The Forest's Lost Things
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By now it should have turned warm, but the snow went on falling, soft and steady, and the animals would not come out of their nests.
All winter Una had been picking things out of the snow — things others had dropped — and had decided to keep a shop. Customers hardly ever came. Still, now and then an animal who had lost one glove, or a button from a coat, would come in.
On a night when the long winter still seemed far from over, Shaggy came hurrying into the shop, squeak, squeak.
Shaggy moved two small hands about, restlessly, trying to explain something. Una reached up for one of the keys hanging from the ceiling and held it out. “Here you are.”
Shaggy looked at it a moment and tossed it away. Blinking, Una took down another key, carefully, and held it out. “Here you are.”
Shaggy pressed fur against the ring of the key, and wound it in, and worked at it a while — and then, seeming satisfied, went out of the shop.
That night, Una dreamed that Shaggy was going about unlocking places.
Unlocking the meadow deep beneath the snow,unlocking the frozen stream,unlocking the cold clouds,and unlocking the animals' nests as well.In the morning, when Una woke, the animals had gathered in front of the shop. Warm sunlight was coming in, and green grass was shining up through the snow.
Perhaps the key Una handed over was the key that opens the door of spring.
