Gus and the Compass Bauble — Under the blue-white hush of the alpine glade, Gus packed a basket with spare baubles, candy canes, and one plain blue ornament no shinier than a pebble. Read the full story →
Under the blue-white hush of the alpine glade, Gus packed a basket with spare baubles, candy canes, and one plain blue ornament no shinier than a pebble. He wanted to hang it at the very spot where the winter carol began each year, though the song always seemed to start somewhere else. Snow squeaked under his round feet as he hurried past firs, his scarf snapping like a little flag.
The plain bauble gave a soft tick-tick-tick against its hook. Gus held it up, and it spun toward the tallest tree, then toward the cottage chimney smoke, then back again. “Lead on, little blue,” he said. He climbed a drift, ducked under frosty branches, and found the tree already wearing bells, stars, and looping garland, as if the whole mountain had been practicing.
Then the bauble clicked open. Inside was no glitter, but a tiny paper cone, humming with voices from fox dens, owl nests, and the warm cottage window. The carol had never started in one place; the ornament had been gathering every note that wandered through the snow. Gus hung it where the star could hear, and the glade rang bright. If you spot the plain-looking bauble among the fancy ones, keep watch—it may still be catching songs under the blue-white hush.
