Ghada Finds Frost Feathers on the Kitchen Window

On the coldest morning of the winter, Ghada woke up before anyone else.

The house was very still. Her little brother Basel was asleep in the bed across the room, curled up like a cat, with one foot sticking out from under his blanket. Outside, the sky was pale pink. Everything was hushed.

Ghada pulled on her thick woolly socks and her fuzzy yellow sweater. She tiptoed down the hallway and into the kitchen to get a drink of water.

Then she stopped.

The kitchen window was covered in feathers.

At least, that was what they looked like at first. White, sparkling feathers, spreading across the glass from the corners. Some were long and curly like ferns. Some were tiny and pointed like stars. Where the pink morning light touched them, they glittered like sugar.

Ghada stepped closer. She breathed out slowly. "Ohhh."

She had never seen anything so beautiful. It looked as if someone had painted the window all night long with a silver brush.

She reached out one finger and touched a feather very gently. It was icy cold. And where her warm finger pressed, the feather melted into a tiny clear dot.

Ghada pulled her hand back quickly. "Sorry," she whispered to the window.

She wanted to show someone. She wanted to show Basel most of all. He was only four, and he loved anything that sparkled. But Basel was a slow waker. If you woke him too early, he grumbled and hid under his pillow. Ghada decided to wait.

She sat on a kitchen chair and looked at the frost. She found a feather that looked like a bird's wing. She found a swirl that looked like a snail. In the top corner, she found a pattern like a tiny forest of white trees.

Then something happened.

The sun climbed higher over the rooftops. A golden ray slipped through the bottom of the window. And slowly, slowly, the frost began to change. The edges of the feathers grew soft. A little drop of water slid down the glass. Then another. Then another.

"No!" said Ghada. "Wait! Basel hasn't seen you yet!"

She jumped up and pulled the curtain across, so the sun could not reach the glass. But the kitchen was getting warmer now. The heater under the window had clicked on, and it was humming and breathing warm air.

Ghada peeked behind the curtain. The forest of white trees was gone. The snail swirl had become a puddle shape. Little rivers of water were running down the glass and dripping onto the windowsill.

Ghada's eyes filled with tears. By the time Mama came into the kitchen in her robe, yawning, the window was completely clear and wet.

"Ghada, why are you crying, sweetheart?" asked Mama.

"There were feathers on the window," Ghada sniffed. "Ice feathers. Hundreds of them. And I wanted to keep them for Basel, but the sun melted them all."

Mama knelt down and wrapped her in a warm hug. "Frost feathers," she said softly. "I used to look for them too, when I was a little girl."

"Why did they have to go away?"

Mama thought for a moment. "Frost is made of tiny bits of water from the air," she said. "When the night is very cold, they freeze onto the glass and grow into patterns. But they are only visitors. When the morning warms up, they turn back into water and float away."

"So they are gone forever?" asked Ghada.

"Not forever," said Mama, smiling. "If tonight is cold too, they might come back."

Ghada wiped her eyes. "Then tomorrow I will wake up Basel early. Even if he grumbles."

"That sounds like a good plan," said Mama. "And while we wait, would you like to see a little window trick?"

Mama went to the glass door that led to the garden. It was cold too. She leaned close and breathed on it. Haaaaa. A soft, misty cloud appeared on the glass. Then, with her fingertip, Mama drew a little heart in the mist.

Ghada gasped. She breathed on the glass too. Haaaaa. She drew a sun with rays all around it.

They were still drawing when Basel padded into the kitchen with his hair sticking up and his blanket dragging behind him like a cape.

"What are you doing?" he mumbled.

"Watch," said Ghada. She breathed on the glass and drew a smiling face. Basel's eyes went wide. He pressed his little mouth to the door and blew so hard that his cheeks puffed out. Then he drew a long wiggly line.

"A snake!" he announced proudly.

All morning, they took turns. And all day, Ghada watched the sky.

That night, it was very clear. Thousands of stars came out, sharp and bright. Papa looked at the thermometer by the back door and said, "It is going to be colder than last night."

Ghada smiled under her blanket.

When she woke up, the room was still grey. She slipped out of bed, padded to the kitchen, and peeked.

The window was full of feathers again. Different ones this time. And in one corner, a pattern shaped like a big round flower.

Ghada did not wait. She ran back to the bedroom and gently shook her brother.

"Basel," she whispered. "Basel, wake up. I have something to show you. Quickly, before the sun comes."

Basel grumbled. He pulled his pillow over his head. Ghada waited a moment, and then she whispered the magic word.

"Sparkles."

The pillow moved. One sleepy eye appeared.

Ghada took his hand and led him, blanket and all, into the kitchen. She lifted him onto the chair. And Basel looked at the window, and his mouth fell open, and he did not say anything at all for a long time.

"Feathers," he finally breathed.

"Frost feathers," said Ghada. "They only come on the coldest nights. And they only stay a little while."

They sat together, close and warm under Basel's blanket, and found shapes in the frost. Basel found a dragon's tail. Ghada found a crown. When the first ray of sun slipped through the window and the first little drop began to slide, Basel opened his mouth to cry out.

But Ghada squeezed his hand. "It's all right," she said. "Watch. It's going back into the sky. And when it's cold again, it will come and visit us."

Basel watched the drop slide all the way down. Then he leaned his sleepy head on his sister's shoulder.

"Next time," he said, "wake me up even earlier."