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  • Writer's pictureLinda Odhner, with photos by Liz Kufs
    • Jan 10
    • 0 min read

Excerpted Inspirations #59


... Oliver made a discovery. "Look," he said," examining the snowflakes on his sleeve. "They're shaped like little sort of fuzzy stars." Oh, everybody knew that! "Didn't you really ever notice it before, Oliver?" Randy sounded astonished. Nevertheless, she ran into the house and borrowed one of the lenses from Rush's microscope and she and Oliver took turns peering through it at the snow crystals. How wonderful they were! So tiny, so perfect, down to the last point, the last feathering of frost. There were little stars, and miniature geometrical ferns and flowers, and patterns for fairy crowns, and tiny hexagons of lace. And each was different from all the others. "How can they ever think of so many patterns?" wondered Randy, relinquishing the lens to Oliver. "How can who ever think of them?" said Oliver, breathing so hard on the flake he was examining that it turned into a drop of water. "God, I suppose," Randy answered, catching some snow on the tip of her tongue and eating it. "Does He draw them first, or does He just go ahead and cut them out and drop them?" Oliver wanted to know. But that was too much for Randy. Snowflakes were a mystery altogether. Elizabeth Enright, The Four-Story Mistake (1942), pp. 70-71

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