The fields were covered by a fresh blanket of snow.  The twisted, petrified remains of staked vines were the only signs of life where lush crops once grew.  It would be several weeks before weather conditions would improve enough for the land to be cleared, tilled, and sowed once again.

The farmer and his wife laid idly by the fire in the hearth, dozing off under a large blanket while watching the flames lick the bordering stones.  A little girl pushed around the burning logs with a stick, poking them to make flurries of sparks spring up.  She always felt drawn to the flames.  Her mother usually tried to dissuade her by asking her to help clean other areas of the house as a distraction, but the girl knew her mother was too tired to complain tonight.  As skipping meals was commonplace in the Winter months, the family would end their day after their second meal in effort to keep food stores well-stocked for the duration of the frosty season.  Her parents were half-asleep when her prodding produced a loud pop from one of the logs.  It split apart, sending a burst of sparks racing up toward the chimney.

Mina’s mother stirred under the blanket.  Her father sat up and scolded Mina, “Quit fiddling with the logs, girl.  Your mother needs her rest.  I can only hope that the next child minds better.”

Mina tilted her head. “Next child?”

He nodded.  “You’ll have a little brother or sister in a few months.  Of course, you’ll be expected to help your mother take care of it.  I’ll need her help with the crops.  Say, be a good girl and fetch more logs for the fire.  Don’t forget to bring more in from outside.”

Mina nodded and retreated to the dry storage room.  She overheard her father mumble, “And I hope I’ll have a son.  Another girl would be as worthless as this one.”  Mina wondered what he meant for a moment, and quickly refocused her thoughts upon her sibling-to-be.  She mused about what it would be like as an older sister.

After picking up a few logs, Mina brought them to the hearth and tossed them on top of the hot coals.  She grabbed her haggard blanket, an old rag quilt that was folded over and sewn in half to suit her size, and wrapped it around her shoulders.  She pulled on her boots and went outside, still thinking about what her life would be like with a brother or sister around.  The pile of wood was just around the corner from the house.  She grabbed as many pieces of frozen wood as she could carry and returned to the storage room.  Mina placed the logs in a neat pile while imagining playing in the fields with a little brother, and then thought about teaching a little sister how to mend shirts.  When the wood was stacked, she went back outside for another armful of logs.  After adding them to the growing pile indoors, Mina admired her work.  Her thoughts drifted off to a land where her parents adored her for taking care of her sibling; for once, she could see herself living a happy life.  She heard her father breathing loudly in his slumber, and her thoughts came back to her silently sleeping mother.

“I should do something nice for momma,” Mina whispered to herself.  “I already finished the mending, so I can’t surprise her with that.  The house is still clean, so I can’t clean it and make her happy.”  She thought hard to find another option.  Suddenly, it came to her: “Maybe I can find something nice outside.”

She pulled the blanket tightly around herself and went back into the cold.  Mina walked the fields in search of anything resembling a gift.  She thought about picking some of the strangely twisted vines, but they still seemed too ugly.  She found some clusters of tall grass, but they too were dry and frosty — not an attractive present.

“Everything is dead.  Isn’t there anything pretty?  I wish I could find some flowers or something, but they’re probably dead too.”  She walked over to the side of the house which hosted her mother’s flower garden.  Sure enough, the plants were all dead.  What once were beautiful clusters of lilies and roses were icy stalks and cages of thorns.

Mina was saddened by the scene.  She couldn’t find anything worthy of becoming a gift for her mother.  She dearly wished that the flowers were still in bloom on the rose bushes, but they all died off weeks before.

She reached up to brush snow off of a thorny stem.  Where the snow was knocked away, there was bright green color.  This puzzled the girl.

She took a single finger and pushed more snow away from the same stem.  A bud was revealed.  Excited, she shook the snow off of the entire branch of the bush.  As though awakened by her touch, the plant exploded with fresh blooms of dazzling roses.  The yellow-and-pink petals seemed more beautiful than they were in Spring.

Mina shook several more stems — which also bloomed — and broke them off of the bushes from which they grew.  She gathered the stems in her arms, taking care to not get pricked by thorns, and hurried back into the house.  She took a pitcher from the kitchen and drew water from the barrel in the storage room, then set the pitcher on the dining table and thrust the roses into it.

“Perfect,” she whispered.  “Momma will love them.”

Mina took off her boots and settled down next to the fire.  She curled up under her blanket and fell asleep, smiling while dreaming about the new life ahead of her.

***

There was a commotion.  Mina’s father was scolding her mother about something.  Mina tried to come out of her sleepy haze and focus on what they were saying.

Her father reached down and shook her.  “Get up, girl!  What is this you’ve done?  Did you steal them?  You little thief!”

“I didn’t steal anything!” Mina cried and shook her head.  “What are you talking about?”

“The only flowers in bloom are from southern farms, and only people who are willing to pay high prices at the market can get them.  Where did you steal them from?  The neighbors?”

“No, I got them from the yard!”

“Liar!” her father yelled.  He slapped Mina across her face.  “No child of mine will be a thief!  You will take them back!”

Mina sobbed uncontrollably.  “I didn’t steal…I’d never steal anything!”

Her father grabbed her shoulder and pulled her up from the floor.  She felt her skin bruise under his firm grip.  Mina was dragged to the table.  Her father pulled the roses out of the water and forced them into her arms, cutting crimson lines into the pale skin beneath her sleeves.  The cold water that dripped onto her dress made her shiver.  Her whole body trembled while she cried.  She turned away from her father, frightened.

“Now, take us where you found these.  Give them back to whoever you stole from.”

“I just…” Mina sobbed.

“What was that?” her father asked, pushing her right shoulder to make her face him.  He held her firmly.  “Tell me.  Now.”

“I wanted…to give momma something nice…”

The flowers in her arms wilted and withered away.  They became dry, thorny stems once more.

Her mother screamed and cowered against the wall, huddled in a shivering, sobbing mass.

“What is this?” Her father gasped.  He pushed Mina away, frightened.

Mina fell to the floor, scattering the stems around her.  She scurried back to her blanket and wrapped it around her.

Her father cautiously approached her.  “You…”

Mina was terrified.  Her mother stopped sobbing.  She fainted.

“You will leave this house.  If I ever see you near this place again, I will kill you.”

Mina cried out and dashed toward the door, keeping the blanket around her shivering shoulders.  She struggled to pull her boots on.

“You hear me, girl?  GET OUT!”

Mina flung the door open and ran as quickly as she could.  She did not turn around once, afraid her father was following her.  The snow crunched under her boots as she ran along the road leading out of town.  Her lungs burned from the heaving breaths she took.  Her nose and throat ached from the icy air; eyes burned from the warm tears she continued to cry.

Soon, she grew tired.  Her pace slowed to a walk.  By the afternoon, it took all of her energy to continue trudging along.  The road became rocky and difficult for her to walk on, but she kept going.  Unable to lift her feet as she took her steps, her boot hit a large rock and she stumbled.  Mina fell, landing on the side of the road.  She cried out in frustration and tried to get back on her feet.  It took most of her remaining strength, but she managed to stand.

She took several steps and hit another rock.  This time, she fell and stayed on the ground, staring up at the dimming sky.  She curled up, pulled the blanket as close as she could, and cried herself to sleep.

Just before sundown, a group of men on horseback came trotting down the road.  One of the men, their leader, spotted what seemed to be a discarded blanket on the roadside.

It was a fortuitous day.