Every winter, Grandma Clara brought out a big glass snow globe and placed it in the window. Inside was a tiny village with glowing windows, a skating pond, and the softest snowfall you could imagine.
“Make a wish,” she’d say. “But only on the first snowfall.”
Her grandson Ezra rolled his eyes at first. “It’s just a snow globe, Grandma.”
But one night, the sky opened up and snow fell like glitter from heaven. Grandma handed him the globe. “Tonight’s the night.”
Ezra held it, shook it gently, and whispered, “I wish I could go inside.”
The next thing he knew—whoosh!—he was skating on the tiny frozen pond, surrounded by snowmen that waved and trees that giggled when brushed by the wind.
He explored candy-cane lamp posts, warm houses filled with gingerbread, and even rode a sleigh pulled by flying foxes!
When he blinked again, he was back in Grandma’s living room. The snow globe sparkled, and Grandma winked.
“You’re part of the snow now,” she whispered.
Ezra never missed a snowfall again.
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