Jar Of Snow

• Effie Tan, Grade 11
• Short Story
• 2014

She was a child of a winter eve. When her first cry echoed throughout the great castle, the first snow of the winter touched the earth.
There was never a girl as lucky as her. Born into wealth and status she was; and as the only daughter of the house, she was cherished and darling-ed. Life was ever so generous with her; she was gifted with charisma, talent and beauty. As she became a young woman, she married and was presented with yet another gift: love.
But the fortunate recipient felt a sense of panic at each break of dawn, the beginning of each new day. A notion formed and stayed in her head: I have everything and all my wishes are granted to me. I could not possibly be unsatisfied with anything, I am happy, but am I as happy as I ought to be? Could someone else who has everything I do be happier than me?
The foolish girl spent her days pondering over that thought, and as the moon waned, her rosy cheeks reduced to mere flesh, her large bright eyes were extinguished of their flames. She was stricken with a sudden fever and neither her beloved husband nor any extravagance could cure her.
Until one winter day, a young beggar with nothing on his back except for a single ragged blanket appeared on her doorstep. Despite his pitiful shivering self, he spoke with a steady and dignified voice and his eyes, oh, those were such shrewd eyes. He asked to see the ill mistress, a bargain, he said to her; her estate and fortune, and, in exchange, a jar of the first snow of winter. There was magic in those snow, was the rumor amongst the maids, for what else, could have driven the mistress into making such an astonishing decision as to comply?

It was almost 2 whole years before anyone saw the young mistress again, on a winter day with striking resemblance to the one 2 years ago. The maid, when recounting the story back to the others, said she half tripped over her own foot when she saw the mistress in a baker’s shop with an apron over her, serving. ‘But of course I went in,’ related the maid, to the circle of kitchen women surrounding her to catch every thread of the gossip. ‘She seemed so much unlike her old self. How so? I cannot explain, save that she seemed at complete ease in that cramped, plain space of a shop.
‘Why Miss! What are you doing here?’ I started.
Upon recognizing me, she was all smiles and greetings. When I inquired further, she said:
“It was a wondrous gift. I was going half mad in the head not knowing whether I was happy enough for everything I had. I find that it’s much easier to be content when you don’t have nearly as much. Not that I am as happy now as when I had my fortune and love, but when I had nothing but the jar of snow, I knew I was as content as anyone could be, if not happier, with a jar of snow; and well, it kept me from going insane.”
‘That head of logic! I tell you, you will not catch me trading an estate and a handsome gentleman of a husband for a jar of snow anytime’ was the remark of the maid upon finishing her recount, which set off a round of laugher from the group before it dispersed, leaving the narrator alone to ponder over her thoughts. She was sure that there was something about the mistress that was anew but she could not quite put her finger on it.
Later on the day however, as she swept the fireplace, she thought she found the answer.
The eyes of mistress, they were alight with flames of dream; flames extinguished, by life’s shower of specious presents; as when you have everything, the maid thought, there must leave little room for dreams.