(story)

It was snowing on Maple Street, the kind of gentle snow that made everything quieter, softer. The windows glowed with golden light, and the air smelled like cinnamon and pine. Inside number 17, twelve-year-old Leo sat by the window, watching the snowflakes swirl.

New Year’s Eve had always been his favorite. Not because of fireworks or sweets, but because of what it meant: a clean slate, a fresh start.

This year had been tough—his best friend moved away, his dog grew sick, and his parents seemed always busy. So when the clock ticked toward midnight, Leo wrote a wish on a piece of paper: “I want to feel magic again.”

He folded it carefully and tucked it into his coat. Then he slipped outside into the snowy night.

The street was empty, quiet… until he heard bells. Not jingle bells—but a deep, melodic chime that seemed to come from the sky. And then he saw it: a glowing fox made of stardust standing in the snow.

It looked at him with ancient eyes and nodded. Without speaking, it trotted down the street, pausing for Leo to follow.

They walked past sleeping houses, frozen ponds, and trees whispering with wind. At the edge of the woods, the fox stopped and raised its head to the stars.

Suddenly, the sky lit up—not with fireworks, but with streams of color and light like a thousand northern lights dancing. Leo felt something inside him warm and open. It wasn’t loud magic. It was quiet. Real. Like hope returning.

By the time he got back to his house, it was 12:01. The fox was gone, but a small glowing feather lay in the snow.

Inside, Leo smiled and tucked it into his drawer. His wish had come true.