Through The Snowy Glass: An Enchanted Sleep Story

Follow the shimmer of a silver charm to the Haven Shoppe on a snow-covered night, where the sisters’ magic brings a cherished memory to life. Feel the rush of moonlit sledding, the sparkle of snow, and the quiet, cozy warmth that lingers long after the adventure fades. The night ends back in your own cozy space, where the soft, familiar hum of your heater lulls you to sleep.

Sound effects by freesound_community

Transcript

Follow the shimmer of a silver charm to the Haven Shop on a snow-covered night,

Where the Sisters' magic brings a cherished memory to life.

Feel the rush of moonlit sledding,

The sparkle of snow,

And the quiet,

Cozy warmth that lingers long after the adventure ends.

The Haven Shop is a fantasy bedtime story series that will reconnect you with your inner magic as you dwell in the sacred space between waking and sleep.

My name is Andrea,

And I am deeply honored to be part of your sacred bedtime ritual.

Welcome,

Dear friend.

We're so glad you've joined us tonight.

Jen has another magical tale in store for us.

Before we begin,

Let's take a moment to settle down and cozy in.

Feel the weight of your body sinking into your bed.

Let your shoulders soften,

Your hands rest gently,

And your breath become slow and steady.

Now,

Imagine that it's snowing outside.

Picture soft,

Delicate flakes drifting through the night sky,

Outside your window.

Each one floats lightly,

Twisting and turning in the air,

Landing gently wherever it touches.

You can see the world being wrapped in a quiet,

Peaceful blanket.

Notice how snow has a way of slowing everything down,

Muting and smoothing the edges of the world.

Let yourself imagine that hush washing over you,

Softening your thoughts,

Quieting your mind,

And bringing ease to your body.

With every inhale,

Imagine drawing in the cool,

Crisp air,

Fresh and clear.

With every exhale,

Let go of tension,

Worries,

Or heaviness.

Watch them drift away,

Like flakes on the wind.

Snow in winter is a reminder to rest and reflect.

It gives the Earth a reprieve,

A time to slow down,

Refresh,

And renew.

Tonight,

You can let yourself do the same.

Allow this quiet moment to settle into your mind,

Your body,

And your spirit.

From here on,

The only thing you need to do is relax and enjoy tonight's story.

The snow has been falling for hours now.

Outside your window,

The world is hushed,

Wrapped in white.

Roofs and branches bend softly under a thick,

Sparkling blanket.

You move through your bedtime routine,

A small ritual that eases your thoughts and calms your mind.

Before you climb under the covers,

Your fingers brush a small charm on your nightstand,

A silver window,

Delicate and smooth,

Tied with a velvet ribbon.

You hold it for a moment,

Letting its quiet magic settle over you.

The Sister Witches gave it to you last winter,

Whispering that it would help you to see them,

Even when you can't visit.

You remember the warmth of their smiles,

The flicker of candlelight in the shop,

And the faint scent of herbs and spice that always seems to linger around them.

Tonight,

You think how much you'd love to visit the shop,

To feel the soothing current of magic in the air.

But outside,

The snow falls thick and heavy,

With no signs of stopping.

Each flake drifts lazily to the ground,

Softening the world so completely it feels like wandering now would be stepping into a cloud.

Instead,

You carefully hang the charm from the latch of your window.

The silver catches the pale light of the moon,

Glimmering faintly,

Almost like it's breathing.

A hush seems to settle in the room.

The quiet sound of the heat turning on fills the room with a steady,

Comforting hum that wraps around you like a soft shawl.

You curl into your favorite blanket,

Sinking into your resting spot.

Its familiar weight gently cradles you,

And you let your mind drift,

Half dreaming,

Half awake.

Somewhere in the distance,

A plow rumbles down the road,

Its slow,

Rhythmic hum fading into the hush of falling snow.

Then,

Something catches your eye.

In the reflection of the glass,

A faint shimmer flickers,

Just at the edge of the window.

It moves softly,

Almost like the charm is breathing,

Or the snow outside is leaning closer to watch.

Suddenly,

The snow blurs,

Softening the edges of the world.

And then,

A glow appears.

Warm lanterns and shelves lined with jars come into view,

Along with flickering candles and quiet movement.

It's worked,

You realize.

It's the Haven Shop.

The charm in the window gives a tiny shimmer,

As if nodding in agreement.

Then,

The glass ripples,

Bending the light in gentle waves,

And in a blink,

You're no longer in your room.

Instead,

You're standing in front of the Haven Shop,

Snowflakes settling softly at your feet.

You realize,

With a gentle thrill,

That the charm has transported you here.

Snowflakes catch in your lashes,

Melting softly against your skin.

The world glows blue-white under the moon,

Quiet and still,

Every sound muffled by the thick blanket of snow.

Your footsteps make a soft,

Steady rhythm,

Crunch,

Crunch,

As you move toward the door.

Through the frosted windows,

Golden light spills out,

Warm and inviting.

You brush the snow from your coat and push open the door.

The little chime above jingles softly in friendly greeting.

Inside,

The air is rich with the scent of pine and something faintly sweet that makes you sigh with comfort.

A hush settles over the shop,

Welcoming you like a soft,

Familiar hug.

Candles glow on every shelf,

Their tiny flames dancing across glass jars,

Crystals,

And glittering stones.

Aurora smiles when she sees you.

You couldn't sleep either,

She asks,

Her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Somewhere deeper in the shop,

Jadis hums a quiet tune,

Soft and lilting,

A melody that feels like a lullaby.

Deep snow tonight,

Aurora murmurs,

Glancing toward the frosted bay window.

It reminds me of home.

Maple Manor,

You ask?

The Healing Witch nods,

Eyes shining with fond memories.

Yes,

We used to wait all year for nights like this.

The hill behind the house would freeze smooth,

And Father would charm the sleds so we'd never tumble.

She gives a soft,

Wistful laugh and continues,

We would race under the moon until our cheeks were red and our fingers so numb that we'd have to do a warming spell.

As she speaks,

Jadis emerges from the back of the shop.

Her long braid,

Dusted with tiny herbs from whatever she's been crafting.

Are you telling stories without me?

She teases,

Her smile playful.

Aurora gestures toward you.

You've come at the perfect time.

Jadis's eyes twinkle,

Catching the candlelight.

We should show our friend what we've been working on,

Don't you think?

You look between them,

Puzzled.

Aurora nods.

We've been preparing a new spell.

One that lets memories take shape for just a little while.

We finished it earlier this evening.

Your eyes wander over the counter.

Normally so polished and tidy,

It's now scattered with tools of their magic.

Small glass jars lie tipped slightly on their sides,

Spilling tiny sprigs of lavender and chamomile.

Large bowls hold glittering sugar crystals and pale crushed petals.

A feathered quill rests next to a tiny pile of silver dust.

Twisted wands and carved wooden spoons are tucked between open books,

Their pages curling with candle warmth.

Everything smells faintly of pine and a whisper of something sweet and spicy,

A scent that seems to promise wonder.

Jadis smiles and calls softly.

Come,

Grab your coat and hat.

You've seen enough of the Sister Witch's magic to trust that this will be something gentle.

Yet your heart flutters with a small,

Excited thrill.

They lead you toward the back of the shop.

You weave past tall shelves of books,

The soft scent of old paper drifting past,

And a table of dried wreaths in progress.

Jadis' makeshift crafting area,

Warm and lively with tiny bits of herbs and ribbon.

Finally,

You reach a quiet alcove.

The sisters guide you up a winding staircase and through a door.

A large,

Old window fills the wall there,

One you've seen before.

Candles flicker softly on the sill,

Their light glinting in the icy swirls.

Jadis brushes her fingertips along the frame,

Murmuring something underneath her breath.

In response,

The frost softens,

Melting into a curling mist.

Come closer,

Dear one,

Aurora whispers.

It's easier to see if you're near.

You step forward.

The room behind you seems to dim,

Fading gently from your awareness.

In the glass,

Shapes begin to form.

A soft,

Rolling hill,

Blanketed in white.

Two children,

Bundled in scarves and mittens,

Drag sleds behind them.

Their laughter drifts,

Faint but bright,

Carrying a warmth that makes you smile.

Would you look at that,

It's working,

Aurora says.

Not that I had any doubt,

She adds quickly.

The air feels colder suddenly,

Crisp with the scent of evergreens and wood smoke.

It's us on Maple Hill,

Jadis says,

Her voice full of wonder.

You're peering into an echo of a long-ago moment,

Shared between the sister witches.

The scene widens,

And Mabel Manor comes into full view,

Grand and old,

Its windows glowing amber against the deep blue of the snow-covered night.

A faint melody drifts from somewhere inside,

Muffled by snow.

The children,

Young Jadis and Aurora,

Reach the top of the hill.

One calls out,

Ready,

And they push off together.

You watch them glide down,

Two bright trails carving through the powder,

Their laughter ringing like tiny bells.

You can hardly believe what you're seeing.

The scene is vivid and alive,

And in the young faces before you,

You catch unmistakable traces of the sisters you know so well.

The familiar tilt of a smile,

The spark in their eyes,

A clear echo of who they are now.

Aurora,

Standing beside you in the present,

Beams at the memory they've reclaimed with such lively detail.

Would you like to go?

She asks.

Before you can answer,

The mist in the window ripples outward,

And a rush of cool air brushes your cheeks.

The world tilts gently,

The floor beneath your feet softens,

And the scent of the shop fades,

Replaced by crisp snow and open sky.

You are standing at the top of the hill,

Inside the happy childhood memory.

The snow glows faintly under the moonlight.

Your breath rises in clouds of silver,

Sparkling in the quiet night.

Beside you,

The young witches clutch their sleds,

Grinning from ear to ear.

Their eyes sparkle with joy,

Eager to welcome a new playmate to join them.

Come on,

Jadus yells,

The hill's perfect tonight.

You sit on a wooden sled that feels solid and real beneath your hands.

The runners hum softly,

Alive with quiet magic.

The world is still,

Except for the soft whisper of falling snow.

Hold on tight,

Jadus says.

You push off.

The sled glides forward,

Smooth as silk.

Cold air rushes against your cheeks,

Sharp and sparkling,

And the snow twinkles like dusted stars all around you.

A rush of pure delight surges through you as the hill stretches endlessly,

White and inviting,

Under the silver glow of the moon.

You feel like a child yourself.

The sisters race beside you,

Scarves streaming behind them,

Laughter ringing across the frozen air.

Their joy is contagious,

And you can't help but laugh,

Your own voice bright and clear,

Mingling with theirs.

Time seems to stretch and bend.

The hill curves and rolls as if it has no end,

Each swoop and dip carrying you higher and freer than the last.

Your stomach flutters with anticipation and delight,

A warm,

Life-giving feeling,

As though something wonderful waits just over the next rise.

Snow-dusted trees drift past in slow motion,

Branches heavy and glimmering in the moonlight.

The world is quiet,

Except for the soft whisper of wind and the echoes of your laughter.

Finally,

The sled slows,

Coasting gently to a soft stop at the base of the hill.

The air is still,

And your chest is full of warm,

Lingering exhilaration.

You sink into the snow,

Breathless but peaceful.

The world around you softens,

Quiet once more,

The kind of hush that feels sacred.

Beside you,

The sisters collapse onto the powdery snow with soft giggles,

Brushing it from their coats and letting it cling to their scarves.

They sit close,

Shoulders touching,

Faces lifted toward the moon.

Aurora leans back on her hands,

Eyes half-closed,

Catching snowflakes on her tongue.

Jadis stretches her legs out in front of her,

Letting her arms sink into the soft snow.

She laughs quietly at the sparkle of frost on the tree branches,

And spots a bard owl looking down at them.

The three of you sit together,

Still and warm in the quiet,

Savoring the moment.

Your heartbeat slows,

Matching the gentle rhythm of the night.

The snow glimmers,

The moonlight caresses the hill,

And the laughter and motion of before linger in the air like a soft,

Glowing memory.

For a little while,

There is nothing to do but breathe,

Watch,

And be here together in this peaceful,

Magical winter world.

Each snowflake that drifts down lands softly,

Melting onto your skin like whispers.

There is nothing to do,

Nowhere to be.

Only this perfect,

Uncomplicated moment,

And the soft,

Fleeting touch of winter on your cheeks.

A gentle tapping pulls you from the moment.

You turn,

And through a shimmering glass window hovering nearby,

You see the present-day sisters peering in with warm,

Delighted smiles.

They wave to you,

Quietly watching as you enjoy their memory.

The young sisters in the hill scene notice nothing.

You begin walking toward the glass,

And as you step through,

The world shimmers and rearranges itself around you.

The snow and sky blur together,

Soft and silver.

In a blink,

You are back in the warm shop.

Candles flicker gently,

And the window is still once more.

Outside,

You see the ordinary world once again.

The snow falls harder now,

Thick and soft against the glass.

Aurora stands beside you,

Her expression soft and gentle.

Did you enjoy it?

You nod,

Still smiling.

It felt so real.

It was real,

Jadis says quietly.

Memories are simply moments,

Waiting to be remembered.

Aurora reaches to adjust one of the candles.

Its flame stretches a bit higher,

Then settles.

That hill still exists,

She says.

Maybe not in this world,

But joy has a way of leaving its imprint.

They walk you back downstairs,

Each of them giving you a warm,

Friendly hug as you say your goodbyes.

You feel the lingering cold of the snow on your skin,

A gentle tingling that makes you smile and look forward to climbing into your cozy bed.

In one final enchantment,

You close your eyes.

The sounds and scents of the shop fade away,

Replaced by a soft hush,

A calm you know well,

Familiar and comforting.

You are home,

Safe,

Warm,

And cradled beneath your blankets.

The soft rhythm of your own breathing is steady and comforting.

The night wraps around you like a quilt stitched from quiet and moonlight.

Outside your window,

The snow drifts slowly,

Endless and soft.

On the sill,

The silver charm sways gently in the moonlight,

A whisper of the adventure you've just shared.

You sink deeper into your bed,

Weightless and peaceful.

The sheets are cool at first,

Then warm as they wrap softly around you.

The pillow cradles your head perfectly,

Curving just enough to ease every trace of tension from your neck.

The hush of the falling snow and the faint shimmer of magic lull you gently,

Carrying you further into sleep.

Every heartbeat feels slow,

Steady,

And light.

And soon,

You drift into dreams,

Where the quiet wonder of night follows you softly,

Cradling you completely.

Good night.

Reviews

Thank you🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻Your first story of 2026: enchanting, and the magic keeps on: what a delight!🙏🏻🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🙏🏻