The skis are ready, and the sled is cushioned for sledding. All that’s missing is the snow. There’s a strange tickling under my shirt, perhaps a bit of excitement. Is today the day when the first snow falls? I miss the snowfall, the tiny artworks floating in the air that paint the world white. One flake does not make a snowdrift; it takes many small, beautiful flakes, each unique. The night has been cold. Small and large clouds move slowly in the sky, and when watching them, my breath steams so much that my glasses fog up. One plump gray cloud looks like it could contain snowflakes. It moves oddly and constantly changes shape. It bulges and sways like a ship on the ocean waves.

But where is the winter wizard? The first snow cannot come without the help of the winter wizard, for he releases the snowflakes from the cloud. What if the winter wizard is sleeping and forgets to wake up? Or has he gotten lost and ended up in Venice by mistake?

I remember a winter long, long ago when the winter wizard was badly delayed. I was 200 years old then, and my beard had not grown very long yet. At that time, winter always came in October and lasted a long time. But now it was already December, and the ground was still black, gray, brown – like the skin of a dried potato.

I called all the nearby elves to an emergency meeting. Together, we would think about whether we could do something about it. But just as all the elves had arrived, a massive snowstorm began. We jumped, bounced, and shouted with joy so loudly that the people living by the Porvoo river thought it was an earthquake. But it was just our elven dance making the ground shake.

The snow fell for two days from morning to evening. You couldn’t go outside. The elf paths were covered with snow, and more snow kept coming down. Those were the two most fun days of my life. We got to know each other in the warmth of my little house, for new elves had moved to the area with their families, and I didn’t know nearly all my guests. We ate well, told stories, sang, and played blind man’s buff and tag.

On the third day, the snow stopped, and the sun came out. It was so beautiful outside. I made small snowshoes from birch bark for my guests to make it easier to walk on the soft snow. I embroidered a bird’s foot-like mark on the soles of the snowshoes. When my guests left, it looked like a flock of birds had tripped over the snow, and no one knew that it was a dozen elves who had walked there.