When I was a little girl, each winter, my mother told me a story, when frost had covered the grass and trees. She told me about a little fairy, who had a magic paintbrush and a basket of never-ending frost crystals. With this, she covered the whole forest, and all the land, in a mesmerizing, sparkling-white frost layer. But it made her so tired, that she fell asleep. And that is why sometimes, in between this blinding, glimmering white, there were still some patches of green.
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