The lamppost in the woods. We found it, and knew that Narnia had come alive.
Tilly didn't know what to think of the phenomena, a mix of curiosity and terror. Nevertheless, we named her princess of all the forest creatures and she reigned over her barbaric subjects with glee.
I adore these mittens. They remind me of a story that was read to me so long ago about a tiny girl who dropped one of her own favorite mittens in the snow. This would have been very distressing, except that on Christmas night a little field mouse crawled into her mitten and was able to escape the bitter cold. I recall liking the tale, but but feeling sad that the little girl never found out what a service she had done for the mouse.
Porthos, the polar bear. He used to be real, but tragically the White Witch turned him to stone.
I live in the real Stars Hollow. Except there is no disgruntled café owner to fall in love with, to my immense disappointment. 
Little orca whales swam by, riding on ferocious winter gales.
Frostbitten and satisfied with our adventures through the wardrobe, my sister and I retreated to the coziness and warmth of the local coffee place. Rich scents of cinnamon and clove wafted up to our nostrils and transported us to some European haunt. Contently, we sipped our hot cocoa as we watched the few remaining flakes descend from the sky. It was Mother Nature’s early Christmas present to us, and we had enjoyed every minute.
