大象传媒

Written by Niamh, aged 8

Star is a girl who has dirty blonde hair, bright blue eyes and wears bright yellow and white clothes.

Star loves watching stars every night, once when she was going downstairs, she wanted to watch stars to help her sleep, but it was foggy and pitch black! She could not see a thing “I CAN FIX THIS” cried Star and blew as hard as she could. “Maybe I can’t...” says Star.

Star started to cry in frustration and stamped her feet very hard, but then she heard a noise, stars were in the snow! and star wiped her tears she was in shock!

She picked them up and threw the stars to the sky it looked like it was working! She was so happy she was clapping until.... she had stars coming out her hands.

She put out her arm to throw but that’s how she realised had powers she pointed her finger she shot out the stars and, in a flash, they were right back up!

A voice came from the sky, and it said, “thank you very much for helping me I will grant you one wish!” Star thought, I wish for beautiful skies just forever!”

“Wish granted,” said the voice. The sky turned clear to show the stars, mum came downstairs to see the sky then Star called out to mum “Mum!! Let’s watch the stars! “Ok sweetie of course!!” says mum.

Star said, “aren’t the skies clear today, Mummy?” “Yes, very” answered mum. Star couldn’t keep her eyes of the stars “wow” she said to herself. And from that day on the were fascinated by the extraordinary sight of the beautiful clear stars in the sky.

Written by Ronan, aged 7

The Christmas season had arrived. Firnando was excited. His Dad and Granda were Christmas trees, and he was going to be one too.

One snowy evening, Firnando was chosen by a man and his daughter. This was really it! They brought him home. Soon the decorating began, with shiny baubles reflecting in his eyes, tinsel tickling his nose.

One night, the little girl, Molly, was beside the tree, when she moved the tinsel and caused Firnando to sneeze.

Suddenly, Firnando and Molly could see each other! “Are you alive?” gasped Molly. “Hello there! What’s your name?” exclaimed Firnando. Molly looked confused. “Don’t be afraid, I’m a friendly Christmas tree”.

Just then, Molly’s Dad came and Firnando froze again. The next morning, Molly got up early to see if Firnando was alive. “Meet me at the town square later” he said. Molly nodded, still unsure.

Later, the town was packed with people, waiting for the Christmas lights to come on. Molly looked for Firnando and found him planted beside a bench.

Firnando whispered “Follow me”. “How are you alive?” asked Molly. Firnando laughed “I’ve always been alive! But only children can see me”. They heard the crowd starting the countdown for the Christmas lights. “10, 9,…” when it got to zero, nothing happened.

The crowd groaned. They went to investigate and heard people saying there was a problem with the lights.

Firnando reached out with his long needles and touched a wire beside some Christmas lights. Suddenly, the lights turned on and Firnando blushed.

The crowd cheered. Molly’s parents called her, she had to go home.

Firnando got home just in time. That evening, Molly’s Mum said “I’m glad the Christmas lights were fixed aren’t you?” “Yeah” Molly replied, looking up at Firnando and they gave each other a little wink.

Written by Canice, aged 8

Dave was dreaming again. He was speeding down the mountain, making tracks in the snow. He was so happy! He woke up suddenly to the noise of the birds singing and the sun blasting over his furry body. ‘Another day in the jungle’ sighed Dave as he swung from tree to tree looking for bananas.

Later, he met his friend Francis. Francis was busy puffing out his feathers and pecking at a mango. He looked up at Dave and said, ‘You up all night dreaming of those cold faraway lands again?’ Dave felt sad. ‘I wonder what it’s like to feel snow on your face. I guess I’ll never know living here.’ Francis wanted to help. ‘I have an idea. Let’s go see that clever cheetah a few trees over. I’ve heard him telling stories around the jungle about how he can magically transport himself to anywhere in the world thanks to his new invention!’

Charles the cheetah welcomed them in and listened to Dave’s wish. ‘I have just the thing’. Charles told Dave to stand up, placing a large headset on his head. ‘Now, if you push the right button and go to the menu page, you can select anywhere in the world to travel!’ Dave scrolled down. Australia? No! Africa? No! The French Alps? Yes!! This is it! Dave pushed the button and he was transported to the Alps. His eyes were seeing a whole new dimension. Snow everywhere! He looked down at his legs. He was wearing long skis and a special suit. In his hands were two sticks. ‘I’m skiing!’ shouted Dave as he used his arms to push himself down the slopes, one faster than the next! Dave felt such excitement! Who knew a gorilla could ski!

Written by Enya, aged 8

Pumpkin and Spice were always great friends.

They both went to the same school, The Academy of Food, where all types of food were welcome.

Pumpkin was a pumpkin of course and Spice was a spoon of spice.

One day they were playing happily together but after a while they got in a fight, about
which was better, Halloween or Christmas. Spice said “Christmas is better!” but

Pumpkin replied “No! Halloween is way better!”.

They didn’t know what to do, they had never gotten in a fight before.

They wanted to make up as fast as possible but they didn’t know how to solve the
problem of which was better.

Sugar and Pie noticed how upset Pumpkin and Spice were at no longer being friends and they wanted to help. They had to come up with a plan!

They agreed to make Pumpkin and Spice write a list of what was so great about Halloween and Christmas.

Secretly they thought they knew what they would write.. or would they? Could they make the fight worse? Would they be mad with Sugar and Pie getting involved in the fight? They didn’t know but it was worth the risk because they didn’t like the bad feeling between them in class!

They approached Pumpkin and Spice separately and made their request. Luckily they were both up for the challenge and began their list.

Pumpkin’s List:
Having fun with family and friends
Treats and games
BEING OFF SCHOOL

Spice’s List:
Having fun with family and friends
Treats and games
BEING OFF SCHOOL

Once the lists were complete Sugar and Pie laughed, their plan had worked!

What do you notice about the lists?

They are the same and what was number one? Having fun with family and friends.

Pumpkin and Spice then realised that it wasn’t the time of year that was important, it’s who you spend it with.

Written by Matthew, aged 8

Once upon a time there was a giant Armadillo family. The child was called Aidan. He lived with his mummy April and his dad Tim. They lived in the Amazon Rainforest. It was snowing and that was bad!! So they decided that they would climb up the dark scary mountain and try to change the snow globe or else it would snow forever. They climbed up the mountain and they made it half way.

But then they found a humongous rock and it was no ordinary rock. It was a magical rock and it started talking nonsense. Then they found a brown dirty stick stuck in the ground nearby. They tugged at it with all their might and it popped out. Then Aidan sprung up and caught it. He gave it to Tim and he stuck it under the rock. They all jumped on the stick until the rock exploded into golden dust. And then it turned into a great enormous full-sized hole. They climbed into the hole and found a small grey weather cloud in a snow globe. And it was raining snow and that snow had a huge impact on the mountain.

Then Santa Claus’s sleigh skidded down from the mountain and landed right beside the hole. Then he jumped into the hole and he used his Santa powers to turn the snow globe into a sunny snow globe. The Rainforest had been saved!!!!!!! Then they went berry picking. After that they went back to their Burrow. And then they hibernated for the winter after they ate all the berries that they had collected.

Written by Eve, aged 8

Alice and her mum were in their kitchen making hot chocolate when suddenly there was a knock on the back door.

Alice said “I’m scared Mum!” When Alice turned around, her mum had vanished. Alice knew what she had to do.

She walked slowly to the back door, grabbed the key and opened the door. “Don’t eat me!” yelled Alice, but when she looked there was only a worried looking badger!

“Hello, please help me” said the badger. “I’ve been attacked by another animal” said the badger.

“You poor thing! By the way, what is your name?” asked Alice.

“It’s Lilly, and when I was being attacked my friend Alex jumped in to help but she got launched into the forest.”

“Let’s go into the forest and find Alex!” Alice said proudly. Alice grabbed her puffy jacket, a torch and a woolly hat, said goodbye to mum and set off.

The forest was cold, black and scary. “Don’t worry, I know this forest like the back of my paw” said Lilly confidently.

“I’m not scared but I am nervous” answered Alice.

Lilly and Alice walked for what seemed like hours, but then Alice heard a noise… She asked Lilly, “What type of animal is your friend?” “She’s a fox, why?” replied Lilly.

“I think I just heard her over there, come on!” Alice and Lilly ran so fast Alice tripped over nothing. Lilly spotted an orange piece of fur.

“Over there!” she shouted. “Over where?” Alice shouted. “Over there by the light” replied Lilly.

They ran like a cheetah guided by the light from their torch. “There she is, buried.”

When Alice and Lilly arrived they lifted all the leaves to reveal Alex.

“Quick, pick her up!” Lilly said anxiously. Alice picked up Alex and started walking slowly back to her house.

When Alice and Lilly arrived, Alice wrapped up Alex in a blanket and lit the fire. “Do you want to stay with me Lilly?”

“Of course I do” replied Lilly.

Just then Alex started to wake up and said, “I’m so warm, can I stay here?”

“Ha ha ha” laughed Lilly and Alice. Alice grabbed two cardboard boxes and made two beds so Lilly and Alex could fall asleep.

All was quiet and all was still. Alice, Lilly and Alex fell sound asleep.

Written by Grace, aged 8

Once there was a fox and a bear who lived in a snowy forest. They liked to play in the snow all day.

Until one day Owl said that they should start gathering food for the winter, but they wouldn’t listen.

So Owl went on gathering food for the winter. While Fox and Bear continued playing.

The next day, Fox and Bear saw that there was more snow and they were so excited, they leaped in the snow.

Once again Owl came out and said that you should start looking for a den to sleep in.

But once again, they wouldn’t listen. So on went Owl looking for a den. While Fox and Bear kept on playing.

Winter came and Fox and Bear had nowhere to go and nowhere to find any food.

So Owl said “you can come in my home”. Fox and Bear were relieved to hear it.

Once they were in the den they decided to have a feast.

After the feast they went to bed with full bellies.

Written by Mia, aged 12

Santa woke up to find his little elves sniffling and sneezing! Oh no, Christmas is in a bit of a pickle! With a heart as heavy as a snowflake, Santa grabbed his candy cane microphone.

"Dear friends" he boomed, "Christmas is in a bit of trouble. The elves are down with the sneeze disease!"

Across the village, Fudge, from the Robinson family, perked up his whiskers. With a dash of courage, he called his cat friends from every house and street.

Together, they were "The whisker warriors," each cat came from different families: There was Charlie, the acrobatic explorer, Muffin, the mischievous one, and pepper, with her fiery spirit.

Fudge, the leader with a tail that curled like a candy cane, dashed up to Santa, eyes shining bright. "Worry not, Santa! We are on it!"

With a swish and a swoosh, the cats were off! They dashed through Santas grotto, wrapping gifts with ribbons, and adding magic dust.

As the moon climbed higher, the cats spread giggles, leaving behind a trail of stardust. Children around the globe woke up to find their stockings filled with surprises, their hearts warmed.

Santa watched as the cats,led by Fudge, turned the village into a whirlwind of furry festivities. "Feline friends, you've saved Christmas!" he cheered, his laughter jingling like sleigh bells.

From then on, the story of Fudge and The Whisker Warriors spread like glitter in the wind, a tale that kids giggled about for years to come.

Every Christmas, all the different family's of the whisker heroes would gather, celebrating the day they saved the holiday.

And as for Fudge, he was strongly praised, knowing that sometimes, the mightiest heroes can have the tiniest paws.

Christmas stayed as magical as ever, thanks to the purrfectly wonderful teamwork of Fudge and his furry friends.

Written by Christian, aged 12

It was a cold winter’s night, a clockmaker gently opened his door and took a tin of biscuits from the cupboard. He started up the fire and settled into his cosy armchair. Minutes later, he was happily snoring, while biscuits slowly fell from his grasp.

One

Two

Soon biscuits rained down, crashing into the carpet and breaking into a million pieces. Suddenly, the final one dropped out of the packet.

It was kept in the tin for a long time and landed with a thunderous thud!

The house shook and sparks flew out of the fiery hot furnace.

All of a sudden, they started gathering up into a single tiny flame. As it slowly stood up and looked around, wondering what this wonderful new place was, its eyes locked on the delectable biscuits lying on the carpet.

The flame walked limply to the biscuits, staggering with every step as it learned to walk and arrived at a crumb embedded into the carpet.

The flame pulled as hard as it could and the crumb broke free from the carpet. As the flame guzzled the crumb down whole, it broke out into a sugar rush! China flew off the walls as the flame sped around the house in a frenzy.

Suddenly, the harsh wind outside blew open a window and the little flame burst out! Its eyes turned wide with happiness as it flew through the air, seeing so many things it didn’t know existed.

Colourful lights of a Christmas tree in the middle of town square, happy families through the windows of the houses, white powder on the ground. Wait, why is it tumbling toward…

As a little smoke emerged from the snow, the little flame was glad that it had seen, even for a few moments, the magic of Christmas.

Written by Brooke, aged 12

In the heart of a village shrouded in winter's icy grip, a tale unfolded. The townspeople spoke in hushed tones about the abandoned mansion that loomed on a snow-covered hill. It was a place rumoured to be cursed, haunted by a spirit that had tormented the village for generations.

One evening, Sarah, a adventurous young woman, decided to confront the legends that had gripped her hometown. She bundled herself in layers of warm clothing, her breath visible in the frosty air, and with determination, she trudged up the hill to the mansion. The moon cast an eerie light upon it, like a phantom in the night.

Inside, the air grew colder, and a silence settled around her. The mansion was a labyrinth of shadows, with every creaking floorboard hinting at a dark history. Sarah cautiously explored rooms discovering relics that whispered of tragedy.

In the basement, a sudden gust of air extinguished her lantern. Sarah found herself in darkness, surrounded by whispers that grew louder. An icy hand gripped her shoulder, and she turned to confront a ghostly figure, its face a contorted mask of sorrow and anger.

The spirit beckoned her further into the abyss, leading her to a hidden chamber where an old, forgotten diary lay open. Its pages revealed a tragic tale of betrayal and heartbreak, a story that had bound the spirit to the mansion for centuries.

Touched by the spirit's suffering, Sarah vowed to help it find peace. With her courage and determination, she unearthed the truth, releasing the spirit from its torment. The mansion was no longer haunted, and the village of Barflem breathed a sigh of relief. Yet the memory of that winter night remained etched in Sarah's mind, a reminder of her bravery and the supernatural mysteries concealed in the depths of winter.

Written by Sean, aged 11

It was winter. The sun shone surreptitiously behind a myriad of clouds. The trees danced in the icy breeze. The wind whistled creating a cacophonous chorus. Thomas hurried out of school, pulling his coat towards him to protect him from the bitter cold. His school bag weighed heavily on his back; his mind was just as heavy, filled with tumultuous thoughts of all the homework he must complete.

He must have missed the last bus: the shelter was empty, although a homeless person lay huddled in the corner, cocooned inside a dusty blue sleeping bag. A pair of sad, lonely eyes met Thomas’ whilst they nodded their heads in acknowledgement. A few coins glistened from an old, dirty cloth on the ground.

Thomas reached into his pocket to try and find some money to share, but all he could feel was the crumpled wrapper of an old chocolate bar. Embarrassed, Thomas glanced down the street hoping the bus would come quickly.

People paced by ignoring the homeless person’s desperate plea for donations. Business people clutched briefcases. Parents pushed prams. Teenagers scrolled through their phones. Thomas could see hope turn to disappointment as each passer by walked on; the homeless person wished them a good day anyway.

The bus screeched to a stop and the creaky doors opened. Thomas stepped forward, reaching into his pocket for his pass. Where was it? The driver grew impatient. Panicking, Thomas searched his belongings. It wasn’t there. A shivering hand stretched out from the sleeping bag, offering Thomas his fare. Grateful, he climbed aboard the warm bus.

Out of the window Thomas smiled and waved. It was the best lesson Thomas had learned that day. Though the homeless person had very little, they had given a lot. Now Thomas must pass the kindness on.

Written by Annie, aged 9

One day I (Katy) was on my way to school. Then suddenly I saw a farm with one pig on it. All the other animals were in the barn.

After I saw the pig I said “Mum, can I bring the pig to school with me?”. My Mum said “Yes”.

The snow was falling as I ran to the pig and said, “Come with me and I will keep you warm. I will call you Paul.”

I ran back to the car thinking, “It’s so cold, that’s why the other animals are in the barn.”

We arrived at school after a few minutes and went into the playground. All of my friends wanted to know where I got the pig from and what it was called.

I introduced them all to Paul. Paul was really frightened that there were so many people. I picked him up and put him in my bag (he was a miniature pig) so he wouldn’t be scared.

I was walking to the classroom with my friends and suddenly Paul started making lots of noises. I opened my bag to see that he had ate my lunch!

In class my teacher took attendance. She called my name and I said “here”.

She looked up and saw that there was a pig sitting on my desk. She asked why there was a pig in her classroom.

I replied that he was very good at literacy. The first lesson was literacy.

She said “I want you to write a story and the pig to write a story and we’ll see which one is best.”

The teacher read both of the stories and said Paul’s was better!

I screamed “What?!”

My friends told me “Don’t bring Paul to school again.”

I won’t!

Written by Ellen, aged 11

Two weeks. Two weeks since the war started, since the loud nights started. Two weeks since Mary’s parents were declared missing.

Mary was told while at school, that she was required to get a gasmask fitting. The thought of using it made her sick to the stomach. They put it over her head, and she felt completely nauseous. “It’s for your safety” they said. This mask would make her schoolbag ten times heavier, but she was told to always have it on her.

She went home to tell her parents about it, then remembered with sadness that they were gone. She deeply wished she hadn’t taken all those nights with safety and comfort for granted.

Mary snatched her charcoal-grey cloak on a bleak winter morning, and she set off, caring only about finding her parents. Two weeks felt like years. She searched high and low, the whole of Ackley. Nothing. Nothing but grass, snow and trees for miles.

Then, the siren started to screech. She could hear in the distance, “WE’VE WON, WE’VE WON!” She felt a sense of uncontainable delight. A delicate snowflake landed on her dainty button nose.

It was still snowing, Mary snuggled into her bed, shivering. In the distance the choir were singing “Silent Night”, other than that, silence. No guns, no bombs and no voices in the back of her mind.

Then there was a knock at the door. She tiptoed downstairs, and she slowly opened it. Her eyes swelled with tears. Her mother and father were standing outside, shivering in their Sunday best, smiling sheepishly.

“We’ve missed you our Mary berry”. She nestled her way in for a warm embrace, holding each other tightly. It felt warm and cosy despite the frosty weather. It simply felt like home.

Written by Leannan, aged 12

The lonely old man stares out the window watching the soft snow fall, daydreaming of a life where he was happy and surrounded by loved ones. But unlike the snow reality always hits him hard.

So, with his stitched lopsided woolly hat and tattered coat, off he set for his daily escape to the local shop. On his journey back, his path is suddenly crossed by a barking black and white dog with an asymmetrical ear and wagging tail that refuses to take the hint from the man’s ‘shoos’ away.

It’s with relief that he reaches his small, terraced home and closes the door behind him. But when the barking is replaced with scratching noises and whining from the other side, it’s then that he sensed that something is not right.

When he opened the door the dog stood barking at him once more, wagging its tail more vigorously than before, turning its body away from the door and as if messaging him to follow. That he did, as the dog led him along a narrow path down beside the river nearby, and onto a snow dusted verge overlooking over the swollen river below.

It was then that he saw it, a small child half submerged and motionless on the river’s edge. He sprang into action and leaped, slid, and tumbled down and came to rest beside where the child lay.

He saved the child that winter day as dusk began to fall. He now sits around her family table as their guest of honour every Christmas day and “Winter”, with the asymmetrical ear and wagging tail is now his loyal companion

Written by James, aged 16

It all started when I met you this winter:

Our paths crossed under the sun’s gilded beauty, the sunrise was a silent symphony, with colours harmonising in a crescendo of light. You were picking wild berries, as you often did, your fingers stained from the juices of the hedgerow fruit. I startled you the first time we met - your striking blue eyes, wide from fright - your sun-kissed skin juxtaposed against the white canvas backdrop. My rapid heart danced like a strange ballet. I had never quite met somebody like you.

Your glare, mirroring a laser, paralysed me like a deer in headlights. I squawked, you laughed; the fragrance of pine cones and cedar hugged me, urging me forward. A silent invitation, amidst the frigid air.

**

Our friendship blossomed like a garden, one day’s encounter at a time; you flourished from kindness, like a rose; your laughter became the vibrant fruit of the garden, each one more beautiful than the last.

The delusion of grandeur, that made the forest seem infinitely vast and angelic, in a strange sense, comforted us.

We stumbled across a babbling stream, its clear water reflecting the lapis sky above. The gentle current whisked our thoughts away as we watched the playful eddies, inflated with joy. I took to the skies, my wings carrying me to the heavens.

The deafening roar of a gunshot shattered the hoary stillness of the forest. The world spun in a disorienting frenzy as my wings faltered - I plummeted from the sky to the iridescent ground.

Did you watch or look away as I fell? Did your copper-brown eyes, now laden with loss, watch or look away as my rust coloured feathers spiralled down in a frenzy.

It's been a month, do you still remember me?

Written by Aoife, aged 14

In the depths of winter, beneath a canopy of glistening stars, the frozen lake transformed into a stage for a hauntingly beautiful performance. A lone violinist, draped in an elegant, porcelain dress stood on the lake's centre, their breath forming delicate puffs of mist as they began to play.

The melody echoed through the silent woods; each note a crystalline snowflake. A tiny audience of woodland creatures emerged from their hiding places. Squirrels perched on frosty branches, and deer lowered their heads, enchanted by the ethereal tune. Even the moon itself seemed to pause in its orbit to listen.

As the music wove its spell, a human listener, lost and alone, stumbled upon this otherworldly concert. His frozen fingers struggled inside the pockets of his tattered coat, never once tearing his eyes away from the enchanting sight. The violinist's hands masterfully held their bow, weaving a story that transcended language, conveying the crisp beauty of winter.

Drawn to the performance, the listener made his way onto the ice, the cold seeping through his boots. As the last note quivered in the frigid air, the violinist lowered their instrument, their eyes boring into those of the man.

With a silent understanding, they permitted him to stay. The woodland creatures watched, as the man joined their circle, their hearts now bound by the shared experience of this serenade.

From that night onward, the man's regular trips to the frozen lake led to a unique friendship with the enigmatic violinist. Although they never spoke, they had an understanding, and that was enough. The frozen lake transformed into a place of connection, where the lines between humans and nature, music and silence, faded due to the beauty of a tune that could thaw even the iciest of winters.

Written by Oliver, aged 13

In the heart of a forgotten valley, nestled beneath the azure sky, there lay a secret haven of scarlet dreams. A poppy field, ablaze with nature's fervent passion, stretched as far as the eye could see. Each scarlet sentinel, standing tall and proud, whispered tales of ancient summers to the wind.

As the morning sun caressed the petals, they unfurled like delicate silken dreams, glistening with dew-kissed secrets. Their crimson hue danced in the golden light, a symphony of colour that painted the horizon in fiery strokes.

The field exhaled a fragrance, a heady potion of earth's musky embrace and the sweetness of forgotten laughter. It wove its way through the senses, a seductive waltz that invited wanderers to linger a little longer, to surrender to the intoxicating embrace.

But within this vibrant tapestry, there was more than met the eye. Hidden among the scarlet waves were the whispered wishes of a thousand hearts, their hopes and sorrows etched into the very fabric of the landscape. The poppies, like ancient sentinels, bore witness to the ebb and flow of human existence.

As the day waned and the sun descended, casting long shadows upon the scarlet sea, the field transformed. It became a sea of crimson fire, ablaze with the dying embers of day. The poppies, once proud and erect, now bowed their heads in graceful surrender to the night.

And so, the poppy field stood, a testament to the fleeting beauty of existence, a tapestry woven with threads of longing and laughter, of dreams and sorrows. It beckoned to those who dared to venture, inviting them to lose themselves in its scarlet embrace, and to find solace in the whispered secrets of a thousand hearts.

Written by Ruby, aged 13

It was a brisk December dawn, and a thick layer of snow had fallen the night before. Among this vast void of white lay a crystalline snowflake, nestled in the cold of its brethren.

The deadly, searing sun glimpsed over the horizon, threatening to end the little snowflake’s life. One would think this was the end of the terminal snowflake.

It, too, thought the same.

Yet when a gruff, weathered man in a distinctive red jacket reached the insignificant piece of snow, crouched down. Almost tenderly, and hovered a gloved hand over the snowflake. “What is he doing?” thought the snowflake, as a cooling glow emitted from the bearded man’s soft mitten. The snowflake emanated a soft glow, then lay dormant once more.

The unforgiving sun was soon to be blazing overhead, and the small snowflake sat stagnant. The cold blanket it had previously nestled itself in started to slowly melt, the ghost-like whisps of water vapour spread throughout; yet the snowflake remained untouched. The elderly man smiled faintly, his face eroded by a time long past.

Unperturbed, the snowflake lay, as it saw the passing of months, years, decades. It saw seasons, seasons it should not have seen – summer, spring, autumn. It felt the wet noses of dogs confused at its presence, and heard the children “ooh” and “aah” at its arrival.

Although. it was never blessed by the mysterious man’s presence again. That was, until that fateful night. It was cold, too cold, and the snow had begun to fall once again. The vague shape of a man in red was slowly making his way toward the snowflake.

When he reached it, he crouched down, whispering under his breath as he did so. It was then, surrounded by snow, did the eternal snowflake melt.

Written by Hollie, aged 13

As the sunsets, a winter's night unfolds, painting the world in beauty. The air turns crisp and cold. The sky is covered with countless stars that twinkle like diamonds in the cold night air. They capture the wonder of everyone who looks up.

Stepping outside, you're greeted by a silence that only winter nights can offer. The ground is blanketed in a layer of snow. Each step you take creates a crunch.

The stars come alive, creating magic and pictures of beauty. The winter night sky fills you with a sense of wonder and belief.

The trees stand tall and bare, their branches shimmer in the moonlight with their coating of cold droopy icicles.. The world seems frozen and is a gentle reminder that even in the harshest of seasons, there is beauty to be found.

Fluffy snowflakes begin to fall, adding to the magic. Each snowflake is unique, creating a magical carpet of white that covers everything in sight. The world is silent, peaceful and calm, untouched by the chaos of everyday life.

In the distance, you hear the faint laughter and joy of families and friends coming together, embracing the winter spirit. The warmth of cozy fires and hot chocolate offers comfort and delight from the cold.

As the night draws to a close, you're filled with a sense of gratitude and for the beauty that winter nights bring. They remind us to slow down, and appreciate the warmth and love from our loved ones. Winter nights are a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there is always a glimmer of light and hope.

Written by Finnan, aged 14

In the midst of the snow-laden mountains, two friends, Max and Alex, embarked on their grand hunting expedition.

Walking through the thick embrace of the dense woods, they carefully took aim, eyes fixed on a beautiful Elk, resting on a hilltop, only to be interrupted by the shock of snarls behind them.

A pack of wolves emerged from the tree-line, circling their prey, all while growling. The terrified hunters tried to flee. Max shot a wolf and the two started running, but the now even angrier wolves were not having it.

Gunfire and screams pierced the forest for about five, maybe ten, minutes until it stopped. The now bloody hunters gasped for air, surrounded by the bodies of the wolves that stayed. The once white snow was now dyed red with the wolf and human blood.

The injured men crawled to the place they were when the attack began, thinking they might be able to get the Elk that had lured them into the trap. But upon arriving the only thing they could see were tracks. The Elk ran away when the first shot was taken, and the men agreed that they should head back before they would hear more menacing snarls.

On the way home they pretended they were fine, but they were never going to return to those snowy peaks again without remembering those haunting howls.

Written by Maisie, aged 13

Once upon a winter’s night, in a quaint gnome village amidst a snowy forest, lived a rosy-cheeked gnome names Oreo. As the snowflakes danced in the moonlight, Oreo ventured out into the frosty night, his lantern guiding his way through the glistening trees.

As he wandered, Oreo heard a chirping sound. Following the noise, he discovered a tiny bird perched on a branch. The bird’s feathers trembled with cold. Oreo’s compassionate heart urged him to help.

Oreo extended his hand towards the bird, offering it warmth and comfort. The little creature hopped onto his finger, its delicate weight barely noticeable. Oreo cradled the bird in his palm and whispered soothing words, assuring it that it was safe now.

Knowing that the bird needed shelter, Oreo hurried back to his cosy home. He carefully placed the bird in a soft nest near the fireplace, where the warmth thawed its icy feathers. The bird nestled in, its eyes sparkling with gratitude.
Oreo spent the night sitting by the fire, sharing tales of adventures with his newfound friend. The bird listened intently, occasionally chirping along as if it understood every word. In that moment the boundaries between gnome and bird seemed to fade away.

As dawn broke painting the sky with pink and gold, the bird stretched its wings, ready to take flight. Oreo watched with a bittersweet smile, knowing that their time together had come to an end. But in his heart, carried the joy of having made a difference in the bird’s life.

With a final chirp of farewell, the bird soared into the winter sky, leaving Oreo with cherished memories. And in the gnome village, the tale of Oreo and the little bird became a heart-warming legend, reminding everyone of the power of compassion, even on the coldest of nights.