Snowdrops : a small story

One January morning I was walking through the rainy market, when I saw a woman in a yellow raincoat holding a perfect bunch of snowdrops. It’s unlike me to accost a stranger, but I had to ask her where she bought them. ‘At the end of the alley’, she pointed. There, with a large basket of delicate white ivy-wrapped bunches, I found a lady holding a sign that read ‘Snowdrops from my snowdrop farm.’ On a dreary January morning, could there be a more romantic notion than a snowdrop farm? I bought two bunches, and carried them home with a gladdened heart.

This year, I’ve set myself the task of sharing some of my smallest stories here on my blog. I’ll also be continuing to send out monthly Small Stories emails- a letter from me to you, straight to your inbox. If you don’t already receive my monthly musings, you can sign up here (and you’ll also receive my free storytelling E-book).

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  • I have never regretted it when I’ve stopped someone to ask where they got what they’re wearing or carrying. A snowdrop farm sounds magical indeed. Love this little gem of a story.

  • Turn back the clock 25 years when I planted snowdrops plants in our garden on the evening of 7th February (by torchlight if I remember correctly) for my daughter to wake up to on her 5th birthday. We decided the snowdrop fairIes planted them!
    Thank you for the sweet story above which nudged my memory.

  • What a lovely little story! It brought a smile to my face and warmed my heart. Which is something I really needed this morning. I think this would be nice to write in a snail mail letter 🙂 thank you for sharing!