Celebrate the Season--Secret Snowflake

by Taylor Garland

  “Text me over break and we’ll get together for sure,” Riley said. She was now painfully aware of the book under her arm. She could… but what if he… then again…

  Don’t obsess, Riley told herself. She remembered the inscription she’d written: For someone who captures the spirit of Christmas in everything he does. Those words described Jacob better than anyone else she knew. Maybe, somehow, the book she’d made was meant for Jacob all along. After all, hadn’t he slipped a poem into each and every one of her Secret Snowflake presents?

  “I have something for you, too,” Riley said. Shyly, she held out the book. “Merry Christmas.”

  “Wow,” Jacob said. “This is incredible. Did you—you made it?”

  Riley nodded.

  “I can’t accept it,” Jacob continued. “It’s too nice.”

  Kind of like you, Riley thought. But what she said was, “I want you to have it. Look at it this way—if you accept it, it’s like you’re giving me one last Secret Snowflake present.”

  Jacob raised an eyebrow. “Last?” he said. “Who said anything about last?”

  Riley smiled. She had a feeling Jacob was right.

  After all, they were just getting started!

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  Not finished celebrating the season yet? Here’s a sneak peek at another book in the series:

  Quinn Cooper didn’t even want to blink. If she blinked, she might miss something—and there was so much to see! Finer Arts, the art supply store in Quinn’s hometown of Marion, was her favorite place in the whole world.

  Quinn trailed through each aisle—past the vibrant rainbow of paints; past the colored pencils in every hue imaginable; past handmade paper flecked with bits of gold and silver; past the long strands of glittering crystal beads. Every aisle inspired Quinn to start a new project. But now, she knew, was not the time. Not when she had so much to do!

  Reluctantly, Quinn tore herself away from the handspun yarn section and headed toward the counter. The store’s owner, Ms. Morimoto, smiled as Quinn approached.

  “Hi, Quinn! I have a surprise for you,” Ms. Morimoto began.

  Quinn’s eyes lit up. “Did they come? Did they come?” she exclaimed.

  “Voilà!” Ms. Morimoto announced as she pulled a red box from under the counter. Her eyes were twinkling as she passed it to Quinn. “Careful, now… they’re very fragile.”

  Quinn held her breath as she eased off the lid. Nestled inside the box were twelve perfectly round ornaments, each one made of delicate blown glass. The ornaments reflected the bright lights overhead, but otherwise they were completely blank.

  “They’re perfect!” Quinn exclaimed. “Thank you, Ms. Morimoto!”

  “It’s my pleasure,” the older woman replied. “I always try to make sure our special orders arrive as quickly as possible.”

  “The timing is perfect,” Quinn said. “I’ll be able to paint them over Thanksgiving break!”

  “Are they for your family’s Christmas tree?” asked Ms. Morimoto.

  Quinn shook her head. “I’m going to donate them to the Marion Animal Shelter’s fund-raiser,” she replied. “They’re kicking off a special event this year—the Twelve Pets of Christmas.”

  “Oh, yes—I’ve seen the flyers,” Ms. Morimoto replied. “Tell me more.”

  “Mrs. Alvarez—she’s the shelter director—well, she had this amazing idea,” Quinn began. “The Twelve Pets of Christmas is a big promotional campaign to encourage people to adopt pets instead of buying them from a store. It kicks off with a fancy fund-raiser in ten days! There’s going to be food, and dancing, and special Christmas cookies, and an auction with some really cool stuff, and portraits of the Twelve Pets that we especially hope will be adopted before Christmas. I’m donating twelve hand-painted ornaments. I’m going to paint animals on them.”

  “Genius!” Ms. Morimoto said. “I’m so impressed that you’re using your artistic talents for such a good cause, Quinn.”

  “It’s the least I can do,” Quinn said. “I love helping out at the animal shelter after school. And that’s not all! At the benefit, I’ll be—”

  Quinn’s voice trailed off abruptly.

  “On second thought, maybe you could come see for yourself?” she continued. Quinn rummaged around in her backpack until she found a ticket to the fund-raiser. “All the volunteers got two free tickets. Would you like one of mine?”

  Ms. Morimoto looked surprised, but only for a moment. Then a broad smile crossed her face. “I’d love to come. Thanks, Quinn!” she said as she took the ticket.

  “Great! And that way, you can see all the finished ornaments, too,” Quinn replied. “I hope they turn out okay. I’ve never painted on glass before.”

  “I’m sure they’ll be beautiful!” Ms. Morimoto assured her. “Just remember that the colors you use will shift a little, depending on the color of the ornament. And, you know, you could always add a little…”

  Quinn waited expectantly while Ms. Morimoto reached under the counter again.

  “Here you go—on the house.” Ms. Morimoto gave Quinn a small jar of crystal glitter. “It’s Christmas,” she finished. “There’s no such thing as too much sparkle!”

  “Thank you!” Quinn said.

  “Just sprinkle it on while the paint’s still wet and you’ll be good to go,” Ms. Morimoto told her. “I’ll see you at the benefit—and all your ornaments, too!”

  “Bye, Ms. Morimoto,” Quinn said as she carefully cradled the box of ornaments in her arms. “Thanks again—for everything!”

  “Stay warm,” Ms. Morimoto called out. “It looks like it’s going to snow.”

  “I hope so!” Quinn said, laughing. “Bye!”

  When Quinn stepped outside, she realized that it didn’t just look like snow; it smelled like snow, too. That crisp, cold tang in the air was instantly recognizable. In her warm parka, Quinn didn’t mind the chilly temperatures as she walked a couple of blocks home to the condo where she lived with her dad and their pet cat, Piper. It would be unusual to get a big snowstorm before Thanksgiving—but not impossible. Quinn couldn’t help grinning as she remembered the massive blizzard that had hit Marion last winter, closing school for an entire week! Quinn and her best friend, Annabelle, had gone sledding on the big hill in Center Park for hours. Then, because school was closed, Annabelle got to sleep over at Quinn’s house for two nights in a row!

  It was a great memory—but it made Quinn a little sad, too. If there was a big snowstorm this year, she and Annabelle wouldn’t be sledding together, and Annabelle wouldn’t be spending the night. Just three months ago, Annabelle had moved all the way to California… and Quinn had no idea when they would get to see each other again. That was one of the reasons why Quinn was so grateful for the opportunity to volunteer at the animal shelter. Playing with the kittens always made her laugh, and she loved taking the dogs for walks in the neighborhood. Quinn knew how important it was to shower the shelter animals with lots of love and care while they waited to be adopted. Happy animals were much more likely to be adopted—and happy animals knew that they were loved. Most of all, though, staying busy helped Quinn keep her mind off how much she missed Annabelle.

  “Hey, Dad!” Quinn called out as she walked through the front door.

  “Hey, Q!” he called back from his office. As an illustrator, Quinn’s dad worked from home in an office that was nearly as well stocked as Ms. Morimoto’s store.

  “Look—my ornaments came!” Quinn announced as she carefully placed the box on the kitchen table.

  “Great news,” Dad said as he appeared in the doorway. “I had a feeling Ms. Morimoto would come t
hrough for you.”

  “Four days with no school, no homework, nothing but painting…” Quinn said in a dreamy voice. “One more day until Thanksgiving break, and I can’t wait!”

  She snuck a glance at the clock. Technically, the rule was that Quinn had to finish her homework before she could paint or draw, but maybe Dad would make an exception today.

  As if Dad could read her mind, he laughed. “Go ahead, Q,” he said. “I don’t see why you can’t do your homework after dinner today.”

  “How did you know what I was thinking?” Quinn asked, smiling.

  “You got that look in your eyes,” he said knowingly. “That I can’t wait to get started gleam. I recognized it right away.”

  Quinn crossed the room to give her dad a big hug. “Thanks, Dad,” she said. “I promise I’ll get all my homework done after dinner. And I’ll do the dishes, too!”

  “Even better!” Dad joked.

  Quinn scooped up the ornaments and hurried back to her room. It was hard for Quinn to keep her desk tidy—it was always cluttered with school papers, pencils, and books—but she kept her art table perfectly organized. When she had the urge to paint or draw, the last thing Quinn wanted to do was waste time cleaning up!

  Quinn’s acrylic paints were already arranged in rainbow order. She’d picked out a few metallic accent colors, too—silver, gold, and crimson—which shimmered under the bright light as she poured little pools of paint onto her palette. Then Quinn picked out a gold ornament from the box. She stared at it, deep in thought, as she tried to decide what, exactly, she would paint there.

  Tap. Tap. Tap.

  Quinn didn’t even notice that she was tapping the end of her paintbrush against the side of her palette. The gold ornament reminds me of Annabelle’s dog, Bumblebee, she thought. But if I paint him, he’ll blend right into the ornament.

  But there was no reason Quinn couldn’t paint a dark brown dog instead!

  Quinn had been painting animals for ages—especially her friends’ pets—so it wasn’t too hard for her to paint a chocolate-brown version of Bumblebee. She grinned to herself as she made one of the dog’s ears flop the wrong way. It made the dog on the ornament look curious and playful—and ready for fun!

  I have got to text a picture of this to Annabelle, Quinn thought as she examined her work. But the ornament didn’t feel quite finished. There was something missing… but what?

  It’s not festive enough, Quinn suddenly realized. With quick, sure strokes, she painted a wreath of dark green leaves around the dog’s face. Then she added a few bright red holly berries for a pop of color.

  “Less is more” was one of those things adults liked to say, and most of the time, Quinn couldn’t disagree more. Fewer chocolate chips in a cookie and less frosting on a cupcake were definitely not better than the opposite.

  But when it came to artwork, Quinn knew it was usually true. Sure, she could add more and more decoration to the gold ornament, but something deep inside told her that it was just right—just the way it was.

  And just in time, too, as Dad called to Quinn from the kitchen, “Dinner’s ready!”

  Quinn carefully nestled the ornament back in the box, with the painted side up so that it wouldn’t smudge. One down… eleven to go. Quinn couldn’t wait to find out what she’d paint next!