The Scarf of Frost

Once upon a time there was a princess named Irene. She lived in a far off land where it was winter all year long. Princess Irene's bedroom was in a large stone tower at the top of the palace. She had four windows around her magnificent room. From her north window she could see the ocean and watch the ice flows toss round on the waves. From her east window she could see the dark forest of evergreen trees that sheltered the palace from the howling winter storms. From her south window she could see the Sterling Silver Mountain Range which cut her kingdom off from the rest of fairyland. And from her west window she could look at the vast Tundra of Moran, where the wind whipped the snows into huge drifts and blew them away again.

Irene was a happy little girl who loved to dance and play in the draughty hallways of the palace. She would chase her baby sister around in the foyer beside the throne room where her parents were busy governing the kingdom. Sometimes she would trip over the citizens who were waiting to visit the King and Queen. When that happened, the Queen would send Irene to the palace library to keep her quiet. Then the princess would spend long afternoons curled up on the cushions beside the roaring fire, reading stories about other lands.

The Princess was fascinated by the beautiful drawings of the other fairy kingdoms. She especially loved the pictures of green pastures and flowers. She longed to see for herself what the world was like without snow. She longed to eat foods other than fish, iced juniper pudding, and bramble tea. The more Irene looked at the books, the more she was resolved to set out and explore the world beyond the ice kingdom.

One morning, when Irene woke up and looked out her west window, the sun was shining on the drifts of snow so that the shadows seemed to form a path. The path stretched off into the distance and disappeared over the horizon. Irene decided that this was the day she would set out on her adventure. She put on seven pairs of stockings, seven pairs of trousers, seven sweaters, seven hats and gloves and nine coats. She made her way down to the palace kitchen and packed herself a flask of bramble tea and some salmon stew. She wrote a note for the King and Queen telling them she would be back by supper time, and then Irene let herself out the west door of the palace.

At first she could not find the path she had seen so clearly from her tower window. But when she squinted her eyes in a certain manner, the path became apparent. Irene set out on her journey across the Tundra of Moran.

She walked and walked and walked. The snow drifts lay deep all around the path. The sun came up in the sky behind her and hung over her head. When lunchtime came she ate all of her stew, but kept her tea for later in the day. Irene grew tired but she was determined to complete her journey. She kept on trudging across the tundra.

Unfortunately, as the sun continued past her in the sky, the shadows that marked her path changed direction and Irene could no longer see a route through the drifts. It took all of her resolve to keep on walking. A moment later Irene plunged into a snowbank and was forced to wade through snow as high as her waist. She grew exhausted and it became almost impossible to keep moving. But Irene struggled to the top of the snowbank and looked over the top.

What a strange sight met her eyes. A thin, elderly woman was sitting in the snow knitting a wispy scarf from a ball of frost. The scarf stretched out over the snow for hundreds of feet, winding in and out of the shadows. The old woman's eyes were as blue as the winter sky and her skin and clothing as white as the snow. She looked at Irene and smiled. "Welcome my dear", she said, "I was hoping someone would follow my path and visit some day".

Irene gulped and waded forward through the drift. "Hello", she said "You must be freezing out here alone in the snow. Would you like some bramble tea? You can also have some of my warm clothes. Your own things are quite thin." Irene's teeth chattered as she made this kind offer.

The old woman beamed at Irene. "What a generous and thoughtful girl you are," she exclaimed. "You may call me Grandmother Winter and I would love to have some of your tea. Now, what is your name and what brings you out to the middle of the tundra all by yourself?"

"I am Princess Irene. From the palace. I am on a quest to find a land where flowers bloom. I have seen these flowers in my books, and I am determined to touch and smell one for myself. You see," said Irene, "I have never seen the green meadows or felt the warm sunshine like the children in my books".

Grandmother Winter looked thoughtful and a little embarrassed as she sipped her bramble tea. She mumbled to herself , "Why, I think I may have overstayed my welcome in this place. I wanted to finish my frost scarf before I left, but perhaps a thousand years of winter was too much for this part of fairyland."

She stood up and took Irene's hand. Even through her seven pairs of gloves, Irene's cold fingers could feel the chill of Grandmother Winter's grip. "Don't worry my dear" said Grandmother Winter, "You have a kind heart as well as a determined spirit and I shall reward your brave quest."

The old woman threw her ball of frost wool and her icy knitting needles into the air. They swirled up into the wind and dissolved. A faint peel of bells was heard, and a warm breeze blew in from the west. Then armfuls of small green and white flowers began to rain from the sky. Irene caught a flower and exclaimed at its soft petals and faint sweet fragrance.

The old woman turned to the princess. "These flowers are named 'Snowdrops'," she said. "Gather some up, return to your parents and tell them that Spring is coming."

Irene looked puzzled. Grandmother Winter smiled at her, "I am going away for a while my dear. Spring shall return to your land, followed by summer and then autumn."

She paused. "However I must return in a few months and finish some more of my knitting. And when I return to this kingdom the snow shall fall again. But I shall not forget myself again and I shall only stay a short while each year."

"Remember the sign of the snowdrops," said the old woman, "Every spring you shall see these small flowers which cannot be harmed by ice or snow and you will know that Grandmother Winter is gathering up her wool and going away again."

With that, the woman vanished in a flurry of snow. The warm wind continued to blow and the sound of dripping water filled the air.

Princess Irene gathered up an armful of snowdrops and started back to the palace. It grew warmer and warmer as she continued her journey home.

The next day the palace servants were sent out to the Tundra of Moran to retrieve six soggy pairs of stockings, six dripping pairs of trousers, six damp sweaters, six muddy hats and gloves and nine wet coats!