The Gift and the Blizzard

A long time ago, in a country far, far away, there lived a girl. She lived in a little cottage encased in snow with her mama. She had to deliver a new bell to a village called Everglen, because the village’s bell was rusty and old and no longer produced much sound. But the dangers of the journey were clear: Everglen was a few days away, and it was winter, which meant snow, which could wipe away an army in a heartbeat.

Even though the girl was aware of the dangers, she knew that she had promised to deliver the bell. So she bade her mama goodbye and trekked across mountains blanketed in white and forests giving way to perpetual darkness.

She pulled along the sled with the bell for long hours. The wind whipped at her hair and the cold stung her cheeks. The snow came up above her knees, but still she continued, determined to deliver the gift. Finally, when she couldn’t take the growling and biting of her stomach anymore, she went to find some mushrooms and spring berries. Prior to exhaustion and the inability to see, the girl slept by night and was up by daylight.

On the second day of the journey, a terrible blizzard struck with a vicious suddenness. So she had to seek shelter underneath the trees. Midnight came, and the blizzard raged on relentlessly. There seemed to be no end to it. But still, the girl waited patiently, ready to endure as long as she had to. She had made a promise, and promises were meant to be carried out, not discarded foolishly, for those who made a promise lightly could not be trusted with important matters.

Finally, a day later, the storm ceased and she could continue. Off she went, determined to deliver the gift safely, even with the snow biting at her knees and her body shivering visibly. Two days later, she reached Everglen. The sun greeted her there, as a reward for her patience. And still she visits Everglen, and still the sun greets her as a friend.