o the snow fell and vanished in a blink like cotton candy on a wet tablecloth. So the ghosts wandered about the lake, softly and in love, like the wind adores the dark sky. And it was gloomy dark and silent that night. And it was Christmas Eve and snowing like in the olden times.
Two white birds with golden beaks flew over the lake. They were majestically small and drew several circles around the unfrozen pond before they dropped in a little silver box. Then they flew away, fast as they came, strong like a stream of water on a burning branch.
The lake opened up with a sigh and swallowed the gift from the sky. The box could fit in a child’s hand, but as it traveled to the bottom of the lake, it grew and grew till it was big enough to fit a Christmas chocolate cake, or grandma’s old recipe book with half its pages torn apart. The dark waters lightened up with the silver glow of the box from above.
The Lady of the Waters held the illuminating object in her hands. Her transparent skin lit up as her blue eyes blinked twice. She pulled the lid back to peek inside the box.