Benny glanced out the window over the kitchen counter. Outside, his twelve-year-old sister, Jessie, was playing with their dog, Watch. Snowflakes fell onto the Aldens’ back lawn.
“I hope it snows all day,” six-year-old Benny said. “And all night!” He dropped the last spoonful of dough onto a cookie sheet.
At the table, his sister Violet, who was ten years old, was sprinkling powdered sugar on a freshly baked batch of golden cookies. “It would be nice to have lots of snow,” she said. “We could go sledding.”
“And build snowmen,” Benny added.
Mrs. McGregor, the Aldens’ housekeeper, carried Benny’s filled cookie sheet to the oven. “I don’t think there’s much chance of that,” she said. “A few flurries is all those clouds have in them.”
Benny sighed. He had been looking forward to the season’s first big snowfall. It was late this year. “It won’t be much of a winter vacation without snow,” he said.
“Let’s make our own snow,” Violet suggested.
Benny turned away from the window. “How?” he asked.
“We’ll cut snowflakes,” Violet told him.
Benny knew how to do that. Before vacation, he and the other first-graders had made paper snowflakes to decorate their classroom. “I thought you meant real snow,” he said, disappointment in his voice.
“We’ll hang them in the window, Benny,” Violet said. “That way, every time you look out, you’ll see snow.”
“What a good idea,” Mrs. McGregor said. “And if you make some small snowflakes — no bigger around than the cookies, I’ll show you something else you can do.”
Benny was curious. He cut the paper into four pieces. Then he folded and refolded each section. In one piece, he cut several small holes. Each was a different shape. When he unfolded the paper, he had a beautiful snowflake.
Mrs. McGregor laid it on top of a cookie.
Violet’s eyes lit up. “Talk about good ideas!” she said.
Benny didn’t think it was such a good idea. “Who’s going to eat cookies with paper snowflakes on them?” he asked.
Mrs. McGregor laughed. “Oh, I think everyone will eat these when we’re finished.”
Violet sprinkled the powdered sugar over the snowflake. Then she carefully removed the paper. The top of the cookie was dusted with a beautiful white design.
The three of them cut more paper designs.
“Can I sprinkle the sugar?” Benny asked.
Violet handed him the can. Benny turned it upside down and shook hard. The sugar poured through the holes in the can top like snow from a cloud.
Just then, Jessie opened the door and Watch bolted through. He slid across the floor to the table. Sniffing the air, he sat back on his hind legs and begged. Benny slipped him a cookie.
Jessie hung her coat on the hall tree beside the door. “It sure smells good in here,” she said.
Henry, their fourteen-year-old brother, came in with an armload of firewood.
“Is it still snowing?” Violet asked.
Henry set the firewood down near the kitchen fireplace. “It’s stopped,” he said. “At least outside. Looks like a regular snowstorm in here.”
Benny laughed. “It’s the sugar,” he said. “We’re using it to make our own snow.”
Grandfather Alden entered from the front of the house. He was wearing his overcoat and scarf. His cheeks were rosy and his eyes sparkled. It was early for him to be home. He rarely left his mill until the end of the workday.
“Grandfather!” Benny exclaimed. “What a surprise!”
“Did I hear something about snow when I came in?” Mr. Alden asked.
“We were hoping for a snowstorm,” Violet told him.
Grandfather smiled. He looked as though he had a big secret. “What if I said that you’d see more snow this week than you’ve seen in a very long time?”
“Where?” they all asked at once.
Mr. Alden told them about his friend, Todd Mercer, who owned a lodge in the hills two hours north of Greenfield. “It’s a wonderful place,” he said. “Every winter holiday, there’s a kind of carnival with special events and prizes. Todd’s been wanting me to bring you children up there since he bought the lodge.”
“Well, then, why haven’t you, Grandfather?” Benny asked.
Mr. Alden chuckled. “That’s exactly the question I asked myself this morning,” he said. “So I phoned Todd.”
Benny couldn’t stand the suspense. He shot to his feet. “Are we going?” he asked.
Grandfather looked from one to the other. “Do you want to go?”
They all said, “Yes!”
“When will we leave, Grandfather?” Jessie asked. She was thinking about the packing that would have to be done.
“Do you think you could be ready in” — Mr. Alden looked at his watch — “an hour?”
The children glanced at one another.
Henry wondered if his skis needed waxing.
Jessie wondered if her skates would fit.
Violet wondered where she had put her winter hat — the one with the purple stripes.
Benny wondered what food they would take.
There was so much to do. How could they possibly be ready in an hour? They looked at Grandfather Alden.
“Yes!” they all said. “We’ll be ready!”
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