Week 11: Winter Tales II

With about 150 entries for the Winter Tales prompt our student judges had a difficult, but pleasant task: Choose the ones that merited publication. There were many that deserved to be chosen. Here are some of the best. The young writers: Ashleigh Peterson, Gracey Delisle, Hannah Sylvester, Lily Feinson, Maraika Lumholdt, Sossina Gutema, Chelsea-Catherine Wait, Brandon Kieft and Kyle Davis.

Special night of skating
By Chelsea-Catherine Wait
Spaulding High School, Grade 11

I shivered as a cold blast of bitter winter wind hit me like a freight train. It was so cold. I could barely feel my toes that were jammed up together in the old hockey skates I wore. Why was I here? I stared disparagingly at the frozen pond in front of me. “Oh Keegan,” I muttered, my breath forming crisp, white patterns in the air. “Why did I let you talk me into this?”
Keegan just laughed as he finished lacing up his skates. “You can’t live in Vermont and not know how to ice-skate,” he responded with energy. “Come on, it won’t be that bad.”
He glided effortlessly out on to the vast sheet of deserted ice. The snow-capped mountains rose picturesquely behind him, and I wished I had my camera to capture the moment. He began to skate, picking up speed and taking the corners as fast as he could, then finally coming to an abrupt stop near the edge of the pond. Small pieces of ice sprayed close to where I stood, landing inches away from my feet. He held out a hand, “Come on,” he urged gently. “We’re not leaving until you try it.”
I sighed and rolled my eyes, trying to cover up the small smile that escaped my lips. I placed my gloved hand in his and slid my right foot out onto the ice. So far, so good. Then slowly, painstakingly I brought my other foot down next to it. The wind howled at my victory as I stood, staring smugly at Keegan.
“Wow,” he commented sarcastically. “You’re practically a pro.” His remark irritated me, and I removed my hand from his. Maybe this wouldn’t be so hard after all. “Try moving,” he encouraged me.
I was still, looking from him, to the ice, and back again. Without his hand there to stabilize me, I felt as if I would topple over with the slightest move. He sensed my hesitation and stood back, enjoying the frustration that played across my face like a movie. “Okay,” I finally gave up. “Give me your hand.”
Keegan smiled and skated up next to me, taking my left hand in his and sweeping his other arm around my back, latching securely on to my elbow. I took a small step forward, knowing that I was now safe from making a hard landing, then another, and another. He stayed with me, giving me advice every once in awhile about how to turn, slow down, and stop. Gradually I felt his hand let go of my elbow, then my hand, and suddenly I was alone on the ice, free from relying on any solidity he provided.
We skated around the pond, laughing and talking until our cheeks were as red as apples and our fingertips were as blue as berries. “I’m tired,” I called out and skated unsteadily over to the edge of the pond. “I think I’m about done for the day.” Keegan drifted over to me and shifted off of the pond and onto the lifeless ground where I stood. Secretly I hoped he was happy with my effort, small as it was.
“Okay,” he replied with a small nod. His tone was gentle, calm, and cool. I realized with relief that he appreciated my endeavor. He began to take off his skates, working his fingers through the long white laces quickly and easily, even though I knew his hands were frozen. “So did you have fun?”
I hesitated, not wanting to admit that I had actually enjoyed myself. “Yeah, I guess,” I chose to respond modestly. “It was okay.”
Keegan saw right through the silly little lie and smiled in spite of himself. I looked away, pretending not to notice, and finally managed to yank the heavy black skates off my feet. Keegan already had his in his hand and was heading over to the silver Subaru that waited patiently beside the pond. I soon followed, pitched my skates into the back seat, and opened the trunk. The Subaru gurgled to life and within minutes I felt hot jets of air start to melt my frozen body. Keegan came around the side and offered me a cup of hot chocolate as he settled in next to me on the tailgate of the car.
Snow fell around us, light and powdery, and the steam from our drinks mingled pleasantly with the frosty winter air. The few clouds on the horizon were thin, all crowding anxiously around the setting sun. The reds and purples it gave off blended nicely with the mountains, and I sighed contentedly as I watched them.
“Are you ready to go?” Keegan asked me after a few minutes. The sun was already half hidden behind the mountains and the light was fading fast. He knew that I didn’t like wasting time, and he knew that I would get antsy if I sat around for too long. There was something, though, something in the air that made me want to stay. It was all too perfect for me to give up just then. Finally I turned to him with a childish grin.
“Let’s stay,” I ventured and lowered my lips to the cup again. “Maybe we’ll see a deer.”

A Magical Wonderland
By Ashleigh Peterson
St. Albans Town Educational Center, Grade 6

Sparkling crystals fall outside as I lay by the hearth
Listening to tales of winters long ago.
Snowflakes spin outside as well as stories told by Grandmother.
I’ve heard them year upon year, but they captivate me still.
Stories of laughter that light the dark night
As well as sorrow, reflecting in our eyes.
My Mom, Dad, Grandma, Grandpa all sitting with me
Passing presents and roasted chestnuts.
This time with my family is very special
My favorite part of the holidays.
I’m lying in the warmth, but not really there
Slipping away from all things real.
Soon I land in a snowy wonderland
With snowflakes performing in one big show.
Led by a queen they all leapt and twirled
To the soft music of wind.
The queen in her snow- white gown and crown of ice
Landed and took my hand.
We danced for hours, or so it felt
Not even feeling the cold.
Our windy music gained speed our starry spotlights grew brighter
Leading us until the sun rose.
When our wintry dance had ended, she again took my hand,
Bringing me to an icy banquet hall.
Surrounding us were creatures I didn’t know existed-
Talking snowmen, elves, and red-nosed reindeer.
One brought me a glass of cocoa in a cup of ice
The taste warming from head to toe.
Everyone in the hall broke out in holiday song
Singing my favorites from when I was young.
The mood of the room was cheery as I nibbled a candy cane
Its minty sweetness lifting my spirits to their highest.
Santa and his elves began a goofy tap dance
Sending a ripple of laughter through the crowd.
Snowmen sang tragic ballads of their past
Receiving a reply of silence from everyone.
Gingerbread men got us up off our feet with a square dance
Where we all toppled, but nobody minded.
The music of winter ran through my veins.
There was no stopping me now!
Free from the world in this fantasy place
That is nothing like home.
I’m shaken from my thoughts by a penguin twirling me in circles
Joined by two elves and a few white reindeer.
We’re going round and round but never getting dizzy
Faces passing by with the hours.
Snowflakes are falling rapidly, covering us in powder.
We’re covered from head to toe but not cold.
Every creature in this land is holding hands, singing, twirling.
I would love to stay here forever.
In this world it’s always winter but never cold.
Always snowing but you’re never wet.
In this land, hours pass by like seconds
The best seconds of my life.
The queen brought me outside into the snowy afternoon
Where I have to say goodbye to this great place.
I’m just about to leave when I feel someone tap my shoulder.
“Marie, wake up. It’s time to go.”

Moose Hunting
By: Gracey Delisle
Charlotte Central School, Grade 6

Brrrinnng! Brrrinnng! My dad picked up the phone. It was my grandpa, my dad’s dad. They talked about stuff for a while, and it got pretty boring listening, until I heard my dad say “Really you got a moose permit???”
My grandpa had been selected for a moose permit in 2002 but wasn’t able to apply for another one until four years after that. This was the magic year. My grandpa put in for a permit, and by luck of the draw, was chosen again. If you get a permit, it’s your choice to have a second shooter or not. My grandpa decided to call my dad and ask if he wanted to be the second shooter. My dad said it would make him happier to have me go. My grandpa said the same for him, so I was on for the job. Then I guess my grandpa decided he wanted to have me as kind of the first shooter.
I have had my hunting license for 2½ years, and I knew this was going to be the ultimate hunt. My grandpa had a guide the last time he went and they ended up with a moose, so my grandpa hired the same person, Loren, to be our guide again. We agreed that we, my grandpa, dad and I, would spend the night before in Braintree where our guide lives. I had about three months, after we found out grandpa got a permit, to let it sink in, but for those three months, I kinda forgot about it. However, the Monday before the Friday we were going up to Loren’s house, I got really excited.
When the day finally came, I couldn’t wait to get in the truck and go! I was really worried I wouldn’t be able to stand the 1½-hour ride! We finally got there at 3:00 p.m. We pulled in just as Loren and his son, Michael, were coming back from the veterinary clinic with their chocolate lab and her two-day old puppies. I was really glad the puppies were there, because I spent more time with them than worrying about our hunt the next day. Michael and I stayed up until 9:00 p.m., but that was a mistake, especially when we had to get up at 3:00 a.m. to go hunting!!
We got up the next morning and ate Loren’s delicious homemade waffles with his father’s homemade maple syrup. We left the house, and it felt like forever before we finally got up Lost Nation Road, the dirt road that leads to the place we were going hunting. My dad and Michael couldn’t come out hunting with us, so they waited in the truck for the call saying we got a moose.
My grandpa, Loren and I were hunting with another party of two, Jamie and Bob. We walked up a ½ mile trail until we got to the second two-year-old clearcut, which is a place where people cut all of the trees down, and brush grows back. A two-year-old clearcut is about 4 ½ to 6 feet tall. Loren said, “Jamie,” who was up ahead of us, “get down!” Obviously, Loren had seen a moose, but I couldn’t see it.
I said “Where!?!”
He said that he could see three moose, a bull, which is a male, and two cows. By that time, grandpa was ready to shoot just in case my shot didn’t kill the moose. I finally saw them, so I said I could see them to Loren. He said, “Take your safety off and shoot.” I fumbled around with my 260 Remmington rifle for a minute, and when I finally got the scope in focus, I said to Loren “I can’t shoot, I can’t see the moose enough to shoot!” He understood, and he slowly and quietly moved me over to a tree that Jamie was on the other side of.
“Come here and stand on my knee, and tell me if you can see it well enough.” Loren whispered.
I bit the finger of my glove, pulled it off, and dropped it on the ground as Loren lifted me up on his knee. Now Loren is about 6 feet tall, and standing up on his knee made me about 71/2 feet tall! Jamie was standing behind me, holding me up, and explaining where to shoot. Jamie pointed out a yellow leaf and told me to aim just below it and shoot. Before he was finished his sentence, BANG! The moose almost dropped, but he caught himself. In the meantime, Loren and Jamie were telling me to get another bullet in the chamber. I hadn’t really practiced doing that, so it took me a second. I guess I made a good enough shot, because the moose walked about five stiff-legged steps and fell just as my grandpa shot. I called my Dad and Michael and told them “BMD” which means “big moose down.”
We left our shooting spot and ventured up into the clearcut to find my moose. It took us 20 minutes to find the moose, and we found him just as Dad and Michael came into view. They scurried up to us, and that’s when the pictures and videotaping began. We were in the spot where the moose dropped for about an hour, cleaning it.
When we were finally finished, the hard part was next. Well, it wasn’t hard for me, because it was my dad, Loren, and Jamie who dragged it out of the clearcut. After that was all squared away, dad, Michael, Loren, and I walked down to the truck to go back to Loren’s house so we could get the ATV’s. While we were in the truck, still on Lost Nation Road, we met up with our ATV “crew”, and they took Michael and me up to the landing where the truck was so we could all wait for the truck and my dad with the ATV. They finally arrived, and we went up to the clearcut. We got the moose all hooked up to the ATV and started dragging.
Loren had called a professional photographer to take pictures of me with my moose. By the time we got down to the landing Jack, the photographer, Loren, Michael, and Caleb, Loren’s other stepson, were already there. Then I became more than the center of attention. Jack was taking pictures, my dad was taking pictures, and Loren’s brother (who was part of our ATV crew) was taking pictures!! We got the moose loaded in grandpa’s trailer and Caleb, Michael, and I rode in the trailer from Granville, where I shot the moose, back to Braintree, where Loren lives. After that, we were on our way to grandpa’s house to show off my moose.
When I shot the moose, to the time we were showing it off, I was shaking. Not just because of the cold weather, but just thinking, “I shot a moose.” It was an experience that I will never forget.

A Winter’s Day
By Hannah Sylvester
Richmond Elementary School, Grade 4

One cold winters day Alyssa woke up, looked outside and there was snow! “SNOW!” Alyssa cried with excitement. Melissa woke up in a flash.
“Snow?” she wondered in a sleepy voice rubbing her eyes. “Yeah!” Alyssa said happily. Melissa jumped up with Alyssa and ran downstairs to the kitchen and asked their mom if they could have their breakfast. Their mom said they could and made them some eggs. The girls ate their breakfast as fast as they could and ran into the foyer to put their snow clothes on. After the girls got their snow clothes on they raced out to the yard.
The girls spent two or three hours outside making their snowman, Mr. Pickles. Later the girls came inside and had some hot cocoa with marshmallows. “Look! The snow is falling in big flakes!” Alyssa said in surprise. “Your right!” Melissa said in shock. For the next couple hours the girls sat on the couch watching Loony Toons while their mother was gone at the super market. The girls kept on drinking their hot cocoa, as they sat on the couch watching Loony Toons as the silent falling snow turned into a whirling blizzard. An hour or two passed and the girls were still plopped on the couch.
At about 3:15 their mom came back from the store.
“It’s a wild blizzard out there!” she said with rosy cheeks. The girls, who came to realize that their mom was back, shut off the TV off and went to look out the window and all they could see was a flurry of white swirling around. The girls ran to get their stuff on and got all the accessories off Mr. Pickles before they blew away, then the girls went to help their mom get the food out of the car. After the girls got their stuff of they went into the kitchen to help their mom make dinner.
After dinner the girls went to bed and slept all through the night. The girls woke up the next morning with the chills. They got up and went to the window to see if Mr. Pickles was still there. They looked outside but all they could see was white, pure white.
“Ahhhh!!” they screamed as they ran into Mom’s room where she was sleeping. She sat up as quick as lightening. “What!” she cried in a worried voice. “We’re snowed in!”
Melissa sounded like she was going to cry. “What will we do for food?” asked Alyssa.
“Don’t you girls remember? I bought 250 pounds of food yesterday.” said Mom. Then they all went down stairs to cook some food. They couldn’t use much water because the pipes were frozen. They went like this for a week and a half. The girls were miserable. Then, all of a sudden, Alyssa had an idea! She asked her mom if she still had the old shovel in the basement. Mom said yes so Alyssa ran down to get it.
She went back upstairs and told Mom and Melissa her plan. Her plan was to get out onto the roof in her snow clothes and dig a path to the barn to get the snow blower. So she went to get her snow clothes on and dug into her plan. She was very successful. When she got the snow blower, she snow blew her way to the hair salon and bought five mega power hair dryers with $50 her mom gave her. She used the hair dryers to heat the house. When Alyssa finished heating the house, she changed her clothes and went to celebrate with cookies and hot cocoa.

Stuck
By Lily Feinson
Richmond Elementary School, Grade 4
One morning mother sent me, Elizabeth, out to buy bread and cheese. It cost five cents all together. Whenever I go to the store I always pass old men begging for money. They scare me. I yearn for them to see that my family can’t afford a coat this winter either. By golly! Today I decide to check whether or not I can afford to give them any money. There are . . . WOW! Twenty cents in my bag! I count the poor old men, only five to be seen today. I sparingly give each only one cent. They seem very thankful and they all give me a smile. They’re not so scary any more. Everyone on our block is poor.

I bought my bread and cheese. Suddenly a blizzard started up. It scooped me up and pushed me toward a lady selling coats. The lady was shriveled up, shrunken down, and lives in a dilapidated barn. The coats are ten cents each¡Kvery expensive. That’s all the money I have left! But when you’re standing out in a blizzard with no coat, no hat, and no gloves on, you need a coat.

The reason I don’t have a pair of gloves or a hat is because we could only afford one pair of gloves and one hat for the whole family. Father is using them for outdoor work.

After I put the nice warm coat on, I start to walk home. At that moment, I noticed I was lost. Then the terrible blizzard wrapped around my ankles and knocked me over. Bits of snow weaved through my hair. Just then, two freezing cold hands grabbed my arm and pulled me over.

A tree fell down right next to my head! I looked at the tree. I sat up and saw my friends that I had given money to. I thanked them and ran home, hoping I wasn’t late for supper.

Danish Christmas
By Maraika Lumholdt
Rick Marcotte Central School, Grade 5

“This is so good!” That’s what I said when I tried Readue Greadue Mal Fleardue one Christmas Eve by my fireplace.
My family usually has a quiet Christmas at home but this year, since we’re Danish, we decided to have a Danish Christmas party. We would have traditional Danish foods such as Frekedela, rice pudding, marzapan, and sauces for the Frekedela, Danish meatballs. We, my family, pretty much invited our whole block! The adults were in our kitchen drinking wine and eating chocolates. Us kids were sitting around my fireplace, about to try the strange treat.
”Go on!” “It’s not poison!” I said. “ It’s just Danish pudding with berry sauce!” “And really hard to say!” I added
”Oh all right!” my best friend Annie said finally. She cautiously dipped her sliver spoon into the creamy purple-white mixture. An expression of grossness crept across her face. My heart sank. She doesn’t like it! I kept telling myself. All this planning for nothing? Then that expression was over powered by the expression of satisfaction! My hopes were up, way up. It felt like my I was soaring through the sky! She really likes it! I told myself.
“This is….”Annie started.
All of a sudden, the fire went out! It was pitch black! “Ow!” Someone had bumped into my rib cage!
Then I heard a blood-curdling scream. It was loud enough and blood curdling enough to make your whole body, including your bones, shiver non-stop.
“Ahhhhhhhhh!” When I realized the horrible scream was my own, I felt something slimy and slippery on my foot.
I kept thinking about those ghost stories I had heard when I was younger. Especially the one about the huge, hairy, man-eating gorilla, that turned itself into a slimy puddle to go under doorways unseen. I tried not to.
Then the fire suddenly went ablaze! The warm orange and yellow flames warmed my whole body. It felt more comforting than ever. Then, I heard laughter. I realized it was at me, not with me.
“What’s so funny?” I asked. I then realized my dad had lit the fire that pretty much saved me from getting scared to death.
My dad pointed at my foot. I started laughing. I had stepped in someone’s Readue Greadue Mal Fludeu!
That was the best Christmas ever, just because of the hard to say Danish Dessert, Readue Greadue Mal Fleardue.

Winter Dancers
By Sossina Gutema
Essex Middle School, Grade 6

Ah-CHOO! Sneezing! No, she couldn’t be sneezing now! No time for sniffling, no time to be sick. It was winter, the busiest time for a Snowflake Fairy. At spring all they had to do was wake the Flower Fairies who did the rest, but winter was so important! The young fairy looked at her reflection in the lake, her ears and nose were rosy. Her blue hair hung down limply by her head, lacking its normal shine and fullness in the cold water she saw the other Fairies behind her, dancing and twirling in preparation for the Dance, some glowing blue and others white. One particular Fairy, Pixel, came up behind her.
“Hey, Short Stuff!” he said, ruffling her flat hair. “You look a tad down. Pick up, Lyl.” Over the summer Pixel had grown four inches and was now almost a head taller than Lylite.
“I think I’m getting sick, Pix.” She said, rubbing her freezing ears.
“Oh bummer, Lyl!” The Snowflake Fairies’ job was to change the season. This sounds hard, but it is just a Dance. No human had ever seen a Snow Flake Fairies Winter Dance because most humans don’t have any idea what they are, or know that they even exist. The fairies have to dance at all costs on the first of December or there would be no winter. Then the Spring Flower Fairies would get really angry (Santa knows why) and it might cause a war!
At the moment the Flower Fairies were preparing for a long sleep, wrapped in the pedals of their flowers, they would stay that way until spring when the Snowflake Fairies would wake them. It was merely three days away from the night of the Dance and Lylite was getting sick!
“Fairies! Fairies!” A deep voice called. “Gather round!”
“Come on, Lyl.” Pixel said, “Santa’s calling!” Lylite and Pixel walked up to join all the other fairies around the large, round, man in a red coat with a fluffy white hat a top his head.
“You,” Santa said, his voice booming out over the many glowing heads. “Are Snowflake Fairies and you are the Winter Dancers! In three days you’ll dance for the season and make peace with the world and with the little children.” He laughed and the sound rang boldly through the crowd of Fairies.
Let’s go.” Pixel whispered, pulling Lylite through the mass of bodies. It took only a minute to reach Santa. He was laughing, again, at something another Fairy had said.
“Hello there, Pixel, Lylite,” he said once he’d spotted them. “You two getting ready for the Dance?”
“Yeh, but Santa,” Pixel asked, “Lyl’s not doing well, and she’s getting a cold. What do we do?”
“A cold, is that right?” Lylite nodded, “well then let’s go inside and get you some hot cider. No use standing out here in the cold, crisp air.” Pixel and Lylite followed Santa as the large man made his way to the red building that skirted the clearing where they’d been talking. As Santa stood by the door there was a slight similarity between him and the building, for they each had a jolly, happy appearance. Once inside Santa called to Mrs. Claus. Mrs. Claus made a huge fuss over Lylite as she ushered her into a small room, muttering to herself about Fairies getting sick and not telling anyone. On one wall of the room was a bed with a checkered quilt which lay neatly across it; to another a warm fire burned in a wood stove.
“Stay here, I’ll get you some cider.” She promised Lylite.
Lylite spent two days in that room. She drank the cider Mrs. Clause brought and watched the flames flickering and jumping in their secluded space. Even though the two days were incredibly boring, they paid off. Her nose and ears were back to a healthy aqua color. The sniffling had stopped and her head wasn’t spinning. When she finally left the tiny room the time for the Dance had crept up on her. Outside it was empty and quiet, except for Pixel who was entertaining himself with a floating orb.
“Where is everyone?” Lylite asked because it wasn’t normal for a Fairy to be alone in the field.
“Glad you're back, Lyl, but almost everyone's sick now. If they take as long as you to get better, they’ll miss the Dance. Even Santa’s sick!”
“Holy Christmas Cookies, Pix, this is horrid!” Lylite plopped on the grass in despair. With everyone sick how could they do the Dance? Pixel and Lylite weren’t powerful enough to change the season, they’d need a human!
“I talked to Santa,” Pixel said, his voice lowering to a whisper. “We have to Dance this year. There has to be a winter.” He paused, “there’s a map that will help us find a human, and it’ll have to be one from New York.” The two Fairies entered the main building. They walked down the warmly lit corridor, the floor was carpeted red and the stone walls reflected the flickering flames of the torches. At the end of the hall was a large room. It too was lit with torches that shone brightly, spraying golden rings onto the ceiling. In the center of the room was a large globe which was glowing as specks of white glistened across it.
“These,” Pixel said, pointing to the dots. “Are people, human kids whom are still pure and they alone will be able to help us.” He spun the globe so they were looking at New York. “There is one that is especially bright. She is an eight year old girl named Amber and she's a 'Fairy believer' as most eight year olds are, but she's particularly devoted.” Lylite stared at the dot. It represented a person, a girl that the world depended on.
“Okay,” said Lylite as she turned away from the dotted sphere. “Let’s do this.”
They set out right before dawn and reached the city in five hours. When they arrived they were exhausted, but the city was beautiful. Skyscrapers stretched up, spotted with lights that meant the whole city was awake. All the buildings were dusted with lights and it looked like a snow globe, but instead of snow, it rained light. The rest of the buildings were dark and made silhouettes against the blues and whites of the morning sky. Pixel and Lylite flew into the mass of buildings, they weren't frightened of being seen, they could only be spotted by humans with pure souls, a.k.a. little kids.
“That's the house,” Pixel called, pointing to a small brick house. They landed lightly on the roof.
Pixel jumped from the roof into the soft snow. “We’ll use the door.” They tried, but it was locked so they sat on the steps and waited for someone to come home. After awhile a woman appeared. She unlocked the door and opened it. Timing themselves perfectly, Pixel and Lylite dived through the threshold as the woman entered the house. They stepped lightly behind the woman, humans couldn't see them, but everything made noise, even Fairies, so they had to be quiet to keep from being noticed.
“Which room?” Lylite asked, once the woman had turned on the T.V.
“I really don't know,” he admitted. “We'll have to check them all. An eight-year-old's room shouldn't be hard to find.” The first door they opened creaked as it swung on old hinges. It was dark and the walls were covered in posters of rock bands. “I guess she has an older brother,” Pixel said as he closed the door. The next room was smaller. Its walls were painted pink with pictures of Fairies that lined the walls. The comforter on the bed had a big picture of Tinker Bell on it, though poor Tink was far too small to be a real fairy. They both knew at once that this room belonged to Amber. They were in luck because she was sleeping in bed with her hair splayed around her head like a crown.
“You wake her,” Pixel whispered, looking fearfully at the still body of the girl. “You're a girl, too.” Sighing Lylite put a cold hand on the girl's neck.
“Amber, honey, please wake up. We need you.” At the last remark Ambers eyes fluttered open. Her deep amber eye traced the room, taking in the two miniature forms of the Fairies.
“You,” she sputtered, “you're Fairies!” They nodded.
“We need your help, Amber,” Pixel said, speaking to the girl for the first time. “Do you know why we're here?” She lowered her head and closed her eyes. She had noticed their bluish glow that indicated that they were Snowflake Fairies, but the only way they would need her was if...
“The Dance.” she gasped in awe.
“Yeh, every other Fairy's sick. Lyl and I aren't strong enough to perform the Dance on our own. Can you help?” Pixel seemed uncomfortable telling all this information to a human, but they could do nothing without her.
“Just tell me what to do.” Amber said as she climbed out from under the covers.
“Okay, we have 'til dusk to teach you the beginning of the Winter Dance.” They got right to work, Amber had taken ballet, a vague, crude version of the Dance, and so she knew the basics. The steps themselves were layered in magic so the secret of the Fairy's steps kept humans from tapping into the power. You'd have to know Fairies then the Fairies who needed the extra power would have twenty-two times they're normal level so they could change the season. Amber really was skilled. She took to the moves easily and when she danced she emanated Fairy power.
“You're great!” Pixel cried as Amber completed the first set. He seemed amazed that human could catch on like that, grasping the steps as easily as a Flower Fairy would. By dusk Amber knew enough of the Dance to give Pixel and Lylite a huge power boost.
“Now,” Lylite said sitting on the bed, “You have to dance in front of a large amount of people for the real magic to kick in. Were could we go?”
“Everyone goes to times square to see the tree so I could dance there.” When they reached Times Square there was already a fairly large group of people there.
“Go hide in the tree.” Pixel said as he and Lylite floated above Amber. “We'll call you when it's time to dance.” Amber did as she was told. The tree was huge so she was easily hidden in the prickly mat of green branches. Only about an hour later an extremely large crowd had accumulated in front of the tree. It was time. A short man dressed in a suit with a Christmas tie stepped to the front of the crowd. He raised his hand to silence the people.
“Folks from all over,” he addressed the crowd, “we New Yorkers welcome you to the lighting of the Christ-” suddenly a loud piercing sound cut the man off.
“Guess that's the signal.” Amber muttered as she pushed away from the tree and started to Dance. It was like magic. It was magic. Everyone fell silent and watched as Amber twirled and spun, producing enormously powerful bursts of Fairy magic, while unknown to the crowd, the two Fairies Danced with her using their own magic combined with the magic of the Dance, and the power of a human performing the Dance to change the season from Fall to Winter. After a few minutes the Fairies moved on from New York and Danced all over the world spreading the tidings of a new season. But the magic continued in New York. Amber Danced on her own, holding the awe of the crowd. She Danced almost all night not stopping and not being stopped. Many years later the fortunate people who watched a strange little girl Dance the night away, still remembered it. As they continued their lives their minds often strayed back to that girl and that Dance. They had witnessed magic! As many of them realized, that child was a living being possessed by the purest of magic. Amber did not come out of the experience the same though. She had changed for the better that night and had learned a powerful lesson. A lesson that everyone must pursue on their own.

Christmas Eve Luminaries
By Brandon Kieft
Essex High School, Grade 11

The window fogs up as I breathe on it, forming a great drawing canvas. From above me I hear the sounds of my dad crawling around in the rafters, retrieving the plastic milk jugs we collect each year. Through the house I am drawing I spot Mr. Driscoll backing down the driveway in his van. Our annual Pinewood luminary tradition is starting once again.
A wave of excitement washes over me as Mr. Driscoll opens up his trunk to reveal the milk jugs he has saved from last year. My house rises above me as the garage door opens. I pull my hat down over my ears as a blast of crisp December air hits me. The cold makes me wish I were inside reading a good book in front of the fireplace. It's worth the discomfort to be out here with my neighbors, though.
I peer through the top of the first milk jug looking for a burnt out candle. I notice it in the corner farthest away from the opening in the side. I push my gloved hand through the slot in the side and try to fish around for the candle. Unfortunately my glove blocks my view of it and I cannot feel when I am touching it. After two minutes of unsuccessful tries, I ditch the glove and reach in with my bare hand. I grab the candle (and about a pound of sand that has melted to it) and pull it out. Pain emits from my right hand as it scrapes along the edge of the opening. I pass the empty milk jug to Mr. Driscoll, who takes a scoop of sand and pours it in. My dad completes the luminary by adding a new candle and stacking it in the garden cart.
"Jim, I really appreciate you volunteering to be our street captain again this year. Without the help of people like you in the neighborhood, we wouldn't be able to carry on this wonderful tradition," my dad says.
"Oh, you're welcome. I really enjoy doing this every year with all of you, also. I get to enjoy the nice fresh air and have a good time," Mr. Driscoll replies.
After a while all I hear are the sounds of the milk jug openings scraping against the side of the cart or sand being poured into the milk jugs. I breathe into my hand and shake it in an attempt to warm it up. Finally we finish with the last milk jug. My hand is all red, but I am relieved to know the hard part is over.
The wheels of the garden cart creak as it is pushed up the steep slope of the driveway. "Here you go, Brandon. Take this end of the string so we can measure the distance between the luminaries," Mr. Driscoll says.
I brush snow onto the driveway as I clear a flat spot to place the first luminary. The string is ripped out of my hands, signaling that Mr. Driscoll has reached his spot. I fetch the string and stand next to the first luminary while Mr. Driscoll places another where he is standing. The process slows as we wait for my dad to catch up to us with the garden cart. I look around and notice the sun shining against the snow. What a beautiful day it is. The conversation is light, but the companionship is perfect. We are able to silently enjoy the day together while participating in a neighborhood event.
The last milk jug scrapes against the bottom of the garden cart as it is retrieved from the back. A huge sigh of relief comes out of me. Looking up and down the street I realize that we accomplished something big together. Thinking about the amount of effort it would take to do this job alone makes me shudder. Christmas is the time of year where everyone comes together and helps each other in many different ways.
"That dinner sure was good," my dad says later. Of course it was. My mom makes the best Christmas Eve dinners, and besides, he will eat anything put in front of him and enjoy it.
"Here is your lighter. I'll take one side of the street and you can have the other. Try to block the wind when you light the candles." We walk up the street together, lighting each luminary. Everything is perfect. I am reminded that today is Christmas Eve and that means tomorrow is Christmas. I get goose bumps from the excitement as I think about it.
I glance at the clock in the car. It is 9:30 PM. The folk groups singing in church was excellent. I can still hear the recessional song being sung: "Prepare ye, the way of the Lord." As we turn into our development the road stretches out in front of us. Both sides of the road twinkle with lights. My dad turns off the headlights, making the effect complete. I can see to the end of the road. As I look farther up, the lights begin to blend together, forming a solid line of light. It always makes me feel as if I am crossing a bridge.
The luminaries slowly drift by on either side. I am amazed at how our whole neighborhood unifies to line every street with hundreds of lights. While we may not be physically working together, we all rely on each other to do our parts to achieve this amazing annual ritual. "I'm tired, let's go home," my mom says.
We pull into the driveway as snow slowly begins to fall. I quickly change into my comfortable pajamas. In the darkness of my bedroom I peer out the window and watch the cars slowly driving by. With our simple tradition we are able to bring joy into many peoples lives and extend its impact into the community.
I climb into bed and pull the covers up to my chin. I feel warm and safe. I realize that Christmas is not just about the presents. It is about the gathering of family and friends to celebrate the goodness in their lives, whether it is decorating the Christmas tree, gathering at Christmas Eve mass or lining our street with luminaries. I fall asleep thinking about Christmas.

Winter
By Kyle Davis
Charlotte Central School, Grade 7

Winter is an ever changing glacier
It melts
It grows
It moves

Winter shames our greatest masterpieces and accomplishments
The snow glitters like no glass or marble
The ice sparkles with the radiance of a thousand gems
The children’s laughter is more beautiful than two million song birds
And the beautiful flakes of snow amaze with their intricate patterns and designs

Winter is a part of almost everyone’s life
We play in its snow
We hide from its cold
And we make beautiful pictures of it

We still fear winter though
Its cold bites at us
Its ice is cold, slippery and sharp
Its snow sticks to us like many small fingers
But winter is here and we love it anyway