This was an extreme winter for the small village tucked away in a valley.
All the old farmers knew in the fall by looking at the horses growing thick coats, squirrels gathering nuts running to and fro looking into the sky. Day after day wagon after wagon loaded with firewood snaked thru the pass.
The elders gathered the villagers and had them bend on one knee to pray.
"We give our lives into your safe keeping," they all prayed to Him, looking into the northern sky as light snow drifted down on their heads.
And it snowed and snowed with out a break for 39 days. The village turned into lumps of winter white.
On the 40th day the sun did break thru. People stuck their heads out like prairie dogs on the plains.
A breath of relief spread like wildfire thru the village. And then the unthinkable happened ...
As the villagers rang the bells in the church, a low rumble from the north, building speed. A wall of snow from the mountain tops came, taking all before it rolling over and thru the valley. Within mere minutes the small village was gone.
As the news broke in the big city a rescue party did form. The rescue party moved out and arrived at the pass in the morning, and they saw this one lonely snow crocus.
For spring was coming to the pass early this year.
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<a href="http://www.storiesspace.com/stories/flash-fiction/the-pass.aspx">The Pass</a>