The Frost Who Asked "Are You Warm?"

Part One. The Man Who Asked Everyone

The first thing Father Frost said to us, once he was properly awake, was "Are you warm?"

It was Wednesday morning, and the playground was silver with frost. He had stepped out of the staff room and yawned a small blizzard, and now he was walking slowly down the line of our class, bending low, with his long white beard swinging and his crystal staff tapping on the ground. At every child he stopped and looked them straight in the eye, and asked it.

"Are you warm?"

"Yes, thank you," said Kenji.

"Yes," said Ollie, who was shivering so hard that his teeth rattled.

"I'm warm and I've got a snowman," said Dot, who had.

"Hm," said Father Frost. He didn't say anything else. He just made a little mark on a long silver scroll, and moved on.

His badge was pinned to the front of his blue fur coat, a bit crooked. It said Mister Frost, Winter and Presents.

"He's making a list," whispered Marion.

"Is it naughty and nice?" whispered Ollie.

"I don't think it's that," said Elfine. She was peering at the scroll through her fogged-up glasses. "I think it's something older."

Behind him, in the doorway of the staff room, stood the girl in the silver dress. She was about the same size as Elfine and Marion. Her hair was pale as frost, and her skin was pale as snow, and when she breathed out, tiny crystals floated in the air in front of her. Her badge said Miss Snow, Ice Sculpture and Playground Games.

On her shoulder, perched very still, sat the little owl she had built out of snow. It blinked.

"Hello," said Miss Snow, in a voice like a whisper of wind. "Is anybody going to play?"

Part Two. Elfine Has a Fact

"They're from Slavic stories," said Elfine, at break time, on the bench by the north wall. We were all there: Alex and Felix, Marion, Dot, Kenji, Maya, Willow on the end with her paws tucked under. "The same part of the world as Baba Yaga. In Poland he's called Dziadek Mróz, which means Grandfather Frost. In Russia he's Ded Moroz. He's the spirit of winter, and he walks through the forests with his staff, and everything he touches freezes."

"Does he bring presents?" said Dot.

"Yes," said Elfine. "But only if you've earned them. And he has a very particular way of finding out."

"Are you warm," said Alex slowly.

"Exactly," said Elfine. "Maya, you know this one."

Maya nodded. "My gran told it to me," she said. "There's a very old story called Morozko, which is another name for him. A girl was sent out into the forest in the middle of winter by her horrible stepmother. She sat under a tree, shivering. And Frost came leaping through the branches, crackling and cold, and said to her, Are you warm, maiden? Are you warm, my dear?"

"What did she say?" said Felix.

"She was freezing," said Maya. "But she was very polite. She said, Yes, thank you, Father Frost, I'm warm. And he was so impressed that he wrapped her in a fur coat and gave her a chest full of jewels."

"That's a bit weird," said Marion. "She should have said she was cold."

"I think so too," said Maya. "But in the old story, it's about politeness. And the stepsister, who was greedy and rude, got a very different result."

"What about Miss Snow?" said Dot, looking sideways at the girl, who was standing by the wall, carefully not stepping into the sunlight.

"She's called Snegurochka," said Elfine. "The Snow Maiden. In the story, an old couple who had no children made a girl out of snow, and she came alive. She was kind and funny and loved to play. But she couldn't bear to be warm. And in the end, in the spring..." Elfine stopped.

"What?" said Dot.

"I'll tell you later," said Elfine.

Part Three. Dot's New Friend

But we didn't need Elfine to tell us. Dot had already decided.

She marched straight up to Miss Snow, took her hand (it was very, very cold, like a cube of ice from the freezer), and said, in her biggest voice: "I'm Dot, and you can play with me."

Miss Snow looked down at her. She had pale eyes, like frozen puddles.

"I'm not good at playing," she whispered. "I can't go inside. I can't go near fires. And I can't hold hands for long, or they get all wet."

"Then we'll play outside," said Dot. "In the cold. We can build things. I love building things."

So she did. Dot and Miss Snow spent the whole afternoon building an entire snow village on the field, with houses, and a shop, and a tiny snow school with a snow bell. Miss Snow breathed on each little house, and it glowed faintly blue from inside. The snow-owl flew in circles overhead. Alex and Felix helped carry snow in a bucket. Kenji built a snow bridge. Ollie made a snow dog, and was very proud of it, until Willow looked at it, and the snow dog quietly slid off its legs.

"I haven't played in a hundred winters," said Miss Snow, with a small shy smile. "Everyone's always too warm."

"I'm always too noisy," said Dot. "So we're even."

That was when Father Frost came striding across the field. He stopped. He looked at the little snow village for a long time. And then he knelt down, which took a while because of his knees, and stroked a snow roof with one huge frozen finger.

"Hm," he said. "That's very good."

Part Four. The Question

It was Alex who asked.

Father Frost was sitting on the edge of the snow village with his staff across his knees, looking at the tiny snow school. The sun was low. His breath rose in slow silver curls. And he suddenly looked, to Alex, old and tired.

Alex looked at Felix. Felix gave a tiny nod.

"Father Frost," said Alex, stepping forward. "Can we ask you something?"

"Of course, small one," said Father Frost.

"Are you warm?"

Father Frost stared at him.

"Are you warm?" said Felix.

The old man didn't say anything. His beard trembled. Slowly, he put one big hand to his chest.

"No," he said, in a creaky voice. "I'm not."

"You've been asking everybody all day," said Alex.

"But nobody's asked you," said Felix.

"Nobody has asked me that," said Father Frost, "in a hundred years." His eyes had gone very bright, and very watery. A single tear rolled down his cheek and froze, with a tiny tinkle, on his beard. "I am always cold. It's what I am. I thought no one would think to wonder."

"Here," said Alex. He took off his scarf, the red stripy one that Nana had knitted, and held it out.

"And my hat," said Felix, pulling it off.

Father Frost took them in his huge hands. He looked at the scarf, and the hat, and the two small boys. Then he put the scarf round his neck, and the hat on top of his tall blue one, which made him look very silly indeed.

"Oh," he said. "Oh, that is nice."

Part Five. The Rude One

Posy Pinch arrived on Thursday.

She was in the class above ours, and she had just moved to the area. She had a sleek black bob, a sharp little nose, and an expensive pink coat with a fur collar. She looked at the school as if it smelled of something.

"I heard there are presents," she said, to the first person she met, who was Ollie. "Where are they? I want mine. I've been good for ages."

"How long?" said Ollie.

"Two minutes," said Posy. "Which is a lot."

She found Father Frost in the playground, standing among the snow village with his staff. She marched straight up to him and held out both hands.

"Hello," she said. "You're Father Frost. I know all about you. You give people presents. I would like a big one, please, the biggest you've got, and I'd like it now."

Father Frost bent down. He looked at her very carefully. He didn't smile.

"Are you warm?" he said.

"Don't be silly," said Posy. "It's freezing. Are you blind? Look at my face! It's blue. Give me my present."

A small, cold silence fell over the playground. The snow-owl on Miss Snow's shoulder turned its head away.

Father Frost straightened up. He sighed.

"Perhaps tomorrow," he said, in a very flat voice, and walked away.

Part Six. The Sleigh

On Friday morning, at eight o'clock sharp, the blue sleigh stood waiting at the school gates.

It was a magnificent thing. It was made of ice and silver, with runners that glittered. Three white horses stood in front, pawing the frozen ground, with plumes of steam rising from their nostrils. Father Frost climbed up into the driver's seat, with Alex's scarf still round his neck. Miss Snow sat beside him, with her owl.

"I must go to the Deep Forest," he said. "It is time to wake the winter properly. Every year I walk through the trees, and touch each one with my staff, and tell them to get ready for snow. I shall be back before dark."

"Can we come?" said Dot.

"Not this time, little one," said Father Frost. "It's a long and cold journey."

"I'll bring you something," whispered Miss Snow, squeezing her hand. "A snowflake with a wish in it."

The sleigh jingled away across the field, and rose into the air, and vanished into the grey sky.

None of us saw the small pink figure, clinging to the back runners.

"She's gone!" said Maya, an hour later, in a high voice. "Posy Pinch! Nobody's seen her since breakfast. Her coat's gone from the peg. And her bag's on the playground, with a big pink scarf lying in the snow."

"The sleigh," said Elfine slowly. "She went on the sleigh. She wanted her presents."

"But she'll fall!" said Marion.

"It's snowing," said Felix, looking out of the window. "It's snowing very hard."

Part Seven. The Blizzard

It was the worst snowstorm in thirty years.

It started as a few flakes, and in ten minutes, the whole sky was white. The wind screamed round the school. Snow piled against the windows, up to the sills. The field vanished. The trees vanished. The world became a wall of swirling white.

"She'll freeze out there," said Mister Harris, with his hands shaking. "I'm calling the police. I'm calling everyone."

"We can find her," said Alex.

"No," said Mister Harris. "Absolutely not. Nobody's going out in that."

But Willow was already at the door. She had her whiskers forward, and her tail high. She turned and looked at us, and gave a short, hard meow, which meant: this way.

"She can smell her," said Marion.

"Coats," said Elfine. "Hats. Gloves. And a rope. We'll tie ourselves together, so we don't get lost."

"I've got string," said Marion.

"I've got a flask of hot chocolate," said Dot, appearing from nowhere with Baba Yaga's biggest thermos.

"We shouldn't," said Maya.

"We have to," said Felix.

"Posy's on her own," said Alex, "and it's very cold. Nobody should be cold on their own."

Mister Harris opened his mouth, and shut it. He looked at the children in the doorway, and the golden cat, and the roaring white outside. Then Missus Tibbs put a hand on his arm.

"Let them go with the cat," she said quietly. "And I'll phone for help." She turned to us. "Stay on the rope, all of you. If anyone gets too cold, you turn round at once. And Mister Harris will stand at the school gate with the big handbell and the lamp, and ring it, so you can always hear the way home."

Mister Harris swallowed. Then he nodded, and went to fetch them.

Part Eight. The Rope and the Snowflake

We set off in a line, tied together with Marion's string. Alex was at the front, with Willow in his arms, and Felix at the back with the thermos. In between were Elfine, Marion, Dot and Kenji, all holding hands.

The snow hit us like a wall. We couldn't see more than a metre. The wind tore at our coats and our breath froze on our scarves. Every step was a wade. For a while we could hear Mister Harris's bell behind us, ringing and ringing. Then the wind swallowed it, and we couldn't tell which way the school was.

"I can't see Willow," said Elfine.

"I've got her," said Alex. "She's pointing. Look."

Willow's paw was stretched out into the white. Her whole body was tense, like a bow.

"Wait," said Felix. "Look at that."

In the middle of the white, a few steps ahead, something small was glowing. It was a single snowflake, as big as a dinner plate, with a soft silver light inside. It hung in the air, twirling, as if it were waiting.

"It's from Father Frost," said Dot, with a gasp. "No. It's from Miss Snow. She said she'd send me one. It's got a wish in it!"

"Maybe it's a wish to find Posy," said Alex.

The snowflake spun. Then it drifted forward, slowly, through the storm, and we followed it, step by step, like children following a lantern. Wherever it went, the wind seemed to ease a little, just enough to see.

Part Nine. Under the Pines

We found her under a big pine tree.

She was curled up in a snowdrift, with her knees pulled up and her arms wrapped round them. Her pink coat was soaked. Her fur collar was stiff with ice. Her cheeks were white, and her lips were blue, and she was shaking so hard that her teeth chattered.

She looked up as the glowing snowflake floated into the hollow. And when she saw us, her face crumpled.

"I thought nobody would come," she whispered. "I held on to the back of the sleigh, and then the storm hit, and it bumped, and I slipped off into the snow. Nobody even looked round."

Felix pulled off his glove, and touched her hand. It was like ice. He sat down in the drift next to her, put his arm round her shoulders, and pulled her close. Alex took his coat off, his big blue one, and wrapped it round the two of them. Elfine and Marion knelt on either side. Kenji took off his hat and put it on her head. And Dot opened the thermos, and poured a cup of hot chocolate, and held it in both hands.

"Drink," said Dot.

Posy took it with shaking hands. She sipped. A bit of colour came back into her cheeks.

"Are you warm?" asked Felix, very gently.

Posy stared at him. Then her chin wobbled.

"No," she said. "I'm freezing. I've been rude to everyone, and I took something that wasn't mine, and I'm very, very cold. I'm sorry."

"It's all right," said Alex.

"It's not all right," said Posy. "I called Father Frost blind. And you came after me anyway."

"Everyone gets cross sometimes," said Felix.

"But you can say sorry," said Alex. "And fix it."

Part Ten. The Hut in the Storm

The snowflake began to pulse faster. It darted away through the trees, and darted back, as if it were hurrying us along.

"We can't walk back," said Marion. "Not in this. We'd freeze. We need to find shelter."

"There!" shouted Kenji.

Through the snow, we saw a small round window glowing yellow. A thin plume of smoke curled up from a chimney. And on two huge yellow chicken legs, with its feathery toes buried in the drift, stood a little wooden hut, with a bright red door.

"Baba Yaga's hut!" cried Dot.

The door flew open. Out blew a puff of warm air that smelled of beetroot, and in the doorway stood a short crooked woman in an apron, with an iron smile and a huge wooden spoon.

"Foo, foo, foo!" said Baba Yaga. "What's all this? Children in a snowstorm! Not on my watch. In! Everybody in! Quick, quick!"

We tumbled inside. It was warm and bright and smelled of soup. The black cat, Czarny, sat on the hearth, and Willow went straight to sit beside him. Baba Yaga wrapped Posy in three blankets and sat her by the fire. She ladled out hot soup into seven bowls, and put a hand on every forehead, and muttered under her breath.

"I knew this winter was coming," she said. "The old frost is always strict. He doesn't mean any harm. But he does like manners."

Outside, the storm roared. Inside, nobody was cold.

Part Eleven. Father Frost Arrives

The sleigh landed in the clearing about an hour later.

It came out of the storm like a blue comet, with the three white horses snorting, and the runners throwing up fans of snow. Father Frost was standing in the front, holding his staff aloft, and the crystal on top was blazing like a star. Miss Snow was beside him, with her owl on her shoulder.

He stepped down. He strode across the clearing. And he opened the door of the hut.

"My owl saw her fall," whispered Miss Snow, from behind him. "It flew back and found us, and I sent the snowflake to show you the way. Then we followed the owl."

Everyone stood up.

"The owl said a girl was missing," said Father Frost, in a deep, worried voice. He looked round the room. He saw Alex and Felix, and Elfine, and Marion, and Dot, and Kenji, and Baba Yaga with her ladle. And he saw Posy, huddled by the fire in three blankets.

For a moment, he didn't speak.

Posy slowly stood up. She had a lump in her throat. She walked across the room, with the blankets trailing behind her, and stopped in front of him.

"Father Frost," she said, in a very small voice. "I was rude to you. I'm sorry. I took your sleigh without asking, and I thought only about myself. And you were very kind to everyone else. I didn't understand."

Father Frost stood still. Then he sat down on a stool, which took a while, and held out his huge hands.

"Are you warm?" he asked.

"Yes," said Posy. "Thank you. Everyone looked after me." She hesitated. Then she looked up and said, very quietly: "Are you?"

The old man's face crinkled up into a thousand lines.

"Oh, little one," he said. "That is the right answer."

Part Twelve. The Presents

Father Frost opened his sack.

It was an enormous sack, made of dark blue velvet, sprinkled with silver stars. He reached in, and pulled out one present after another, and they were all wrapped in paper that glittered like frost.

He gave Dot a little glass snow globe, with a tiny village inside, and a tiny girl in a silver dress. He gave Kenji a compass that always pointed to the nearest friend. He gave Marion a ball of string that never ran out, and Elfine a notebook with pages that never ended.

He gave Alex and Felix each a small silver bell. "When you ring this," he said, "anyone near you who's cold will feel a little warmer."

"Both of them?" said Felix.

"I only have one of each," said Father Frost. "But they work as a pair. If one rings, the other chimes."

Then he turned to Posy.

"I said you'd have your present tomorrow," he said. "It's tomorrow."

He reached in the sack, and brought out a small, flat package, wrapped in plain brown paper. Posy opened it. Inside was a hat, a knitted one, in pink and white. It was slightly lumpy, and a bit uneven, and she didn't say anything.

"Your grandmother made it," said Father Frost. "She asked me to give it to you, and I didn't, because you needed to learn something first. It's the best present in the sack."

Posy put it on. Her eyes filled with tears. "Thank you," she whispered.

Part Thirteen. The Snow Maiden's Question

Nobody noticed that Miss Snow was standing outside the hut.

She couldn't come in. It was too warm. She stood on the doorstep, in the cold white light, with the snow-owl on her shoulder, looking in through the window with a soft, wistful expression.

Dot was the first to see her. She slid off her stool and went out, and sat down on the step beside her, with a bowl of soup. She put the bowl in the snow, so it wouldn't be too hot.

"What's the matter?" said Dot.

"I was thinking," said Miss Snow. Her voice was very small. "About spring."

"Elfine said she'd tell me the rest of your story," said Dot. "But she didn't."

Miss Snow looked down at her hands. Tiny drops of water were forming on her fingertips.

"In the old story, I'm made of snow," she said. "I came alive because someone loved me. I can play and laugh. But when the weather warms up, I'll melt. Every spring. And I'll be gone."

Dot was very still.

"That's sad," she said, in a very quiet voice.

"I know," said Miss Snow. "I try not to think about it."

"Do you come back?" said Dot.

"Father Frost says so," said Miss Snow. "I turn into water. And the water goes into a river, and the river goes into the sea, and the sea goes up into the sky as a cloud. And in the winter, the cloud turns into snow, and falls. And I'm made again. But I don't remember. It's a bit like sleeping."

"I'll remember," said Dot. "I'll remember you every single day."

Part Fourteen. The Snow House

We built her a house.

Over the whole of the next week, in every spare minute, we all worked on it. It was on the north side of the school, where the sun never reached, tucked up against the wall. Alex and Felix carried snow in buckets. Marion planned the arches with string. Elfine drew a design in her notebook. Kenji and Ollie packed the walls. Posy, in her lumpy pink hat, carried more snow than anyone, and nobody said a word about it, because she was working too hard to say anything herself.

Father Frost put the finishing touches, with a tap of his staff. The walls turned smooth and blue. The windows became ice, clear as glass. The roof arched up in a perfect dome, and the door was just the right size for a girl and an owl.

Dot laid the doorstep. She lined it with seashells she had saved for months, and hung a small paper sign over the door. It said, in wobbly capital letters: MISS SNOW LIVES HERE. PLEASE KNOCK.

"It's beautiful," whispered Miss Snow.

Inside, it was cool and quiet. There was a bench of snow to sit on. There was a ledge of ice with a tiny lantern, which glowed softly, and did not melt. And on the wall, scratched into the frozen surface by Dot's finger, was a drawing of a girl with long pale hair, and a small, loud girl holding her hand.

"You can stay all winter," said Dot.

"And when the spring comes?" whispered Miss Snow.

Dot took her cold hand.

"We'll say goodbye properly," she said. "And then we'll wait. And we'll look at every cloud."

Part Fifteen. What Father Frost Said

On the last afternoon of the week, Father Frost sat on the wall outside the school, swinging his legs, with a cup of Baba Yaga's soup in his hands. The frost sparkled on every twig. The sun was low, and gold.

"I have been giving out presents for a very long time," he said. "And I used to wait for the polite answer. Then two small boys asked me one."

"We only wondered," said Felix.

"That is how it starts," said Father Frost.

He looked at Posy, who was sitting at the end of the wall, in her pink and white hat.

"Everyone gets another chance," he said.

"Even though Miss Snow goes?" said Dot, who had been listening.

"Especially because of that," said Father Frost. He smiled, and the frost on his beard sparkled. "Everything that ends is just the middle of something else."

Dot thought about this.

"I like that," she said.

"So do I," said Father Frost. "It's taken me a thousand winters to work it out."

Part Sixteen. The Ending, with a Hook

The week was nearly over. The snow village on the field was still standing, with its tiny snow school and its tiny snow bell. The snow house glowed blue on the north wall. And Posy Pinch was playing tag with Dot and Miss Snow, shrieking with laughter, in a hat that nobody had ever seen her take off.

Alex and Felix stood together at the school gate, watching them. They each had a little silver bell in their pocket. Every now and then, one of them rang, and the other chimed, softly, like a tiny echo.

Willow came and sat between them. She was in a particularly good mood. She had eaten three bowls of Baba Yaga's soup, and had been sitting on the warm radiator all morning. She yawned, stretched out her golden spotted legs, and began to wash a paw.

Then she stopped. Her ears twitched.

From far away, on the road leading to the school, there came a strange sound. It wasn't bells. It wasn't thunder. It was a low, gentle, rumbling purr, as deep as a motorbike, but smoother, and it seemed to be coming from the whole sky at once.

"What's that?" said Alex.

Willow had gone completely still. Her golden eyes were fixed on the end of the road. Her tail was straight up. She was trembling, all over, from the tips of her whiskers to the end of her tail.

Round the corner walked a tall, graceful woman, in a long white gown, with a gold collar round her neck. She wore a golden headdress, shaped like a cat's ears. Her eyes were green and slanted, and her skin was the colour of warm sand. She walked as if the whole world had been laid down on the ground in front of her, just for her to step on.

On her wrist, a thick gold bracelet shone in the winter sun. On her shoulder sat a small, bright, golden cat statue, and as she passed the school gate, the statue blinked.

She stopped. She looked straight at Willow.

And Willow, nine years old, official Reading Cat of our class, who has never bowed to anyone in her life, dropped her chin to her paws, and lowered her whole body to the ground.

"Hello, little one," said the woman, in a voice like warm honey. "I have come to see how you are getting on."

Elfine and Marion appeared behind the twins, breathless, and stopped dead. Everyone looked at Alex and Felix. The twins looked at each other, with their silver bells ringing softly in their pockets. They said, at exactly the same time, "Monday."

The End.