Snowflakes Under Glass Part V

Posted by Martha · Feb 26, 2015

"Oh me! Oh my!" Jacob proclaimed.

He continued to look intently through the micro-scope-a-tope. "Yes, I'm sure of it.  I see beautiful faces on those snowflakes," he stated to himself. "Are they saying something to me?" the Whimble asked himself. He bent his long ears down toward the lens.

"Let us fly," a tiny voice said. "We need to fly free in the snowstorm! We're like angels. We need to be free to fly!"

The Hillside Whimble's ears trembled. His silky whiskers twitched madly. He shook his head. Was he just imagining? He looked over at his friends having another round of hot chocolate by the fire, oblivious to the drama unfolding nearby.

Bending back down over the eyepiece, Jacob saw that the flakes were looking wan. "Oh, no! You're melting. No, no!"

He popped glass and flakes back into the freezer. When he slid them back under the scope-a-tope, the flakes seemed perkier and looked back at the Whimble with the most marvelous winter sky blue eyes.

"You need to set us free in the snowstorm. We're angels, The storm is part of us, and we are part of it," the snowflakes whispered.

Jacob sighed. There was no mistaking the words. Something deep within told him to let them all go.

He trudged over to the fire and announced, "I am going to put the snowflakes outside. They need to be free.  They're angels, you know."

The friends looked at each other, then at Jacob. Wendell thought to himself, "Talking snowflakes? Hmmm."

However, it didn't take long for Wendell's incredulity to give way to truth. In his heart of hearts he knew that his brother, Jacob, had always heard and seen what others did not.

"You heard my brother. Come everyone," Wendell commanded.

The collection of freezer late winter snowflakes on Annabelle's pink platter were taken outside into the swirling snow. They were carefully lifted up into the wind which swooped in and picked them all up. The snowflakes whirled and flew all around the small group. They sped round and round, their flight an icy caress on each face. As they spiraled upward in the night sky toward the full moon they called in unison, "Good-bye, friends. Good-bye! Remember us always."

And, remember them, they always would.

(la fin from The Working Gardens)