First Letter: The Train Station


Dearest Maggie,

I think you were right. I think this vacation will be just the thing. I've felt so stressed lately, pulled in so many different directions, that I think the chance to relax and see new places will be exactly what I need.

I have yet to actually see these new places, of course, but I assure you, I will see them and let you know everything I see. The trip will begin, of course, at the train station. Oh, Maggie, there is such a beautiful Christmas tree outside! It's so tall and lit so wonderfully, and there's a bright, fantastic star at the top! I just had to get a closer look. The weather has been so mild lately that I didn't mind stopping to take a closer look at the tree before I went into the building. You know me, Maggie, so easily distracted by sparkly things, and oh, the tree sparkled so beautifully! The lights cast such a warm glow on the red and brown brick of the train station, I felt like I could get lost in it, and the reflections on the windows all seemed to frolic, almost like lambs in a field. The white marble pillars were lit, as well, with lighted garlands spiraling up from the ground all the way to the top. The whole building was so lovely and festive, I think I actually sighed as I admired it.

I had gotten so lost in the Christmas spirit that I scarcely remembered that I had to get on the train before it left. I had a watch in my pocket, you remember the bronze one that I've had for so many years, and I had to clean its glass face with a tissue before I could properly see the time. I was almost late! I had to move quickly to make it to the train on time, although looking back, I doubt I needed to worry so much. I found my seat with plenty of time to spare, and even had enough time to pen this letter.

The train itself is such a beautiful machine, sleek and silver. I have no doubt that it will be the fastest train on the whole island. The inside is as beautiful as the outside, with red velvet seats and broad windows where one can watch the landscape go by. I feel certain that it will make for a marvelous trip.

I fear I have little else to talk about at the moment, Maggie, so I will close the letter here, and write another when we reach the first stop.

All my love,
Margaret

Second Letter: Garland

Dearest Maggie,

I must say that since my last letter, I've discovered something of vital importance. Not only is this new train a wonder of technology, the entire thing becomes as silent as a grave at night! I never would have thought that such a thing could happen, but somehow it did. It was almost worth my poor nights' sleep to discover it, although between you and me, I think my bad sleep was simply because I was not in my own bed. Surely tonight will be better. Oh oh oh! Maggie, I found a tear in one of my favorite shirts this morning! Thankfully it was small and easily mended, but there must have been a sharp edge in my holiday trunk. You know the trunk I'm talking about, the one with the poinsettias on the lid, it was given to me as a gift a few years ago. I took glances out the window as I mended my shirt, and I have to say, it was exhilarating watching the landscape go past. The ride was so smooth that I almost felt like I was flying!

The train stopped in Garland today. The scenery was lovely, but not as lovely as the little chapel by the lake. The chapel was just the prettiest thing, but so sad at the same time. There was a tomb right there, with a plaque that spoke of a drowned bride and her broken-hearted groom. I must admit, Maggie, that it put tears in my eyes to read it. They were so in love that when the bride drowned, the groom couldn't bear to keep living. I searched my pockets for something to leave on the grave, as a token, but I had nothing to give. I felt terrible about it, but I had to leave without setting an offering.

The local town was very lively, though, and it immediately lifted my spirits. The market was bustling, shops were selling every kind of wares imaginable, and there were even children clustered along the sidewalks playing games. From what I understand, there is a dice game that is very popular amongst the children of the town, and I confess, I lingered to watch. The rules struck me almost as a kind of riddle: Roll lower than four, and you win. Roll higher than ten, and you lose. Roll anything in between, try again. There did not seem to be any sort of point to the game, but the children were having a grand time of it. Every time a child would 'win,' he or she would pick from a bag of sweets, obviously from the local candy shop. One child thought he was being clever, and I suppose he was: he tied the top of the sweets bag into a knot to prevent any of the others from taking from it without winning the game. I watched for some time, and I think I finally figured out how the game is played. It was largely a game of chance, with two dice, but I suspect the corners of the dice were weighted to give it an extra element of unpredictability. The children rolled the dice, and waited in suspense while the dice bounced wildly around in a bowl.

I was so absorbed in the game that I jumped when a dog barked behind me. I think the dog must have belonged to one of the children playing dice, because the boy turned around and scolded the dog for barking too much. That will teach me to not may attention, won't it, Maggie? To be so surprised by just a dog.

There is another stop on our train route soon, so I will write again when I have more to tell you about.

All my love,
Margaret

Third Letter: Reinsend

Dearest Maggie,

I find, more and more, that this vacation was a fantastic idea. The scenery as we traveled from Garland to Reinsend was truly lovely. The evergreens were all tall and proud, and the mountains we were slowly approaching were looming majestically over the landscape. I found that I could sit and watch the scenery go by for what seemed like hours and not grow bored of it. There were even some reindeer that went by, an entire herd of them! A few even slowed down a little to trot by the windows, with inquisitive looks that would put even the most curious of cats to shame. Perhaps they were somewhat different than regular reindeer?

When I got off of the train in the town of Reinsend, I found that I enjoyed the festive atmosphere of the town. There was a bunch of bonfires and so much dancing that I couldn't help but join in! Soon enough, though, I found myself hovering on the outskirts of the festivities, just watching. Unfortunately, I'm not much of a crowd-person, and trying to put me into one is like trying to get glue to stick to wax paper. It just doesn't happen. I did enjoy watching the children running around, though. They were all wearing homemade masks with reindeer faces penciled on them even as they ran around with some puppies. It was so adorable that I had to take a picture of them, puppies and all, as they stampeded right past me. One girl, in a rather peculiar white mask, tripped over my skirts, and I helped her back to her feet. Before she could run off, I found I had to ask her about her mask. Indeed, it was white, and in the vague shape of a cow, which I found strange.

"I'm an invisible cow~" the girl chirped at me before she ran off. I must confess... I stopped for a good few moments and just watched after her. An invisible cow? I suppose whatever works... Shaking my head, I turned and looked around. As I did, I smelled the most amazing thing. I wasn't sure what it was, but I followed it and found myself at a booth where a man was making tiny, iced cakes for the festival. When he noticed I was there, he smiled at me and asked if I wanted to help for a few minutes. Well, of course I couldn't say no! I didn't do much, but I did what I could, and ended up with a little package of iced cakes to take back with me--that I had baked!

I felt very accomplished after that.

I wandered about the booths at the festival for a while longer. One man was selling coal rakes, another was selling festival-themed greeting cards (one of which I bought and enclosed with this letter), and I even saw a booth that was demonstrating a sort of toy volcano that spouted multicolored sparks and pretty bubbles from the top. I almost bought it, I really did. It seemed like a curiosity many back home would like to have. I restrained myself, though, and went to watch the dancers around the bonfires again.

All in all, I found this stop to be a very pleasing diversion.

All my love,
Margaret

Fourth Letter: Icy Peaks

Dearest Maggie,

Ahhh, if there were ever a place that would resonate with me, it would be Icy Peaks. You know me, Maggie, and you know my deep love for tales of queens and dragons, and Icy Peaks has both. There is an old legend, here, that tells of an Ice Queen who rescued the town and placed them here, high in the mountains. There is a festival in her honor every year, and here we are. Everything here is so lovely, in blues and greens and silver. To be honest, I felt my own attire blended right in. I had chosen today to wear my blue-and-white gown, and I felt positively lovely amongst the rest of the snowy, icy decorations. Even though the streets were cleared wonderfully, it wasn't perfect, and the leftover snow crunched under my boots. Temperate although the climate may be, it is still winter, and so there is snow. It's strange, though... Where snow would be banal elsewhere, seeming to be plain and trite, the snow in Icy Peaks is somehow... more. It sparkles in even the lowest light, it seems to never get dirty, and... I don't know... it just seems magical, Maggie. There's no other word for it. When I walked around the town (which seemed more like a hike than a walk--I shall never wear my pretty boots again when walking on uneven cobblestones!), I asked about the snow, but I was only given the same mysterious answer: "It is a gift from the Lady." I can only surmise that they believe the snow to be a gift from the Ice Queen, and to be honest, after looking at it, I found that I couldn't argue.

I can safely say, Maggie, that I was more than glad that I watched the ice-sculpting contest. I never, in my wildest dreams, believed that ice could be made into such beautiful creations. I must confess... I would have leaned in to try to touch one, because they were really just that magnificent, but I noticed something out of the corner of my eye and turned to see Lance shaking his head at me.

"I wouldn't do that," he told me. I'm fairly sure I flushed; I'm not used to being scolded. I turned back to look at the sparkling sculptures, and I was surprised to see how much variety there was. One was even sculpted to look like a dragon in mid-flight! There was a crash behind me, and I jumped. Now I understood why I wasn't supposed to touch: someone else had made that mistake for me and knocked over a sculpture! There were pieces of it everywhere, even though people seemed to be scrambling to put it back together. Someone even offered up a roll of duct tape to patch it up, which really just made the poor thing look like a child's experiment gone haywire. I stepped away from the contest just as the artist was demanding some form of solatium for the destruction of the piece, not that I can blame the poor man.

Now, I'm off to eat the last of my iced cakes that I made in Reinsend. I know there is plenty of time before they start to go moldy, but why take the chance, yes? I believe our next stop is Saint's Pole, so expect another letter then.

All my love,
Margaret

Fifth Letter: Saint's Pole

Dearest Maggie,

On this entire trip, I feel I have mellowed out considerably. This vacation is doing wonders for my disposition, and I doubt I am exaggerating when I say that I may even be less irascible when I return. You know I have very short patience with people in general, Maggie, I get angry to the point of tears so quickly, and I believe this vacation is going to put me into a wonderfully prolonged state of contentment. I doubt the vacation would have cured my irascible and lachrymose tendencies completely, but it will certainly help.

When we arrived in Saint's Pole, I will admit I was excited. I have heard about this place, where they make all of the most beautiful and amazing handmade toys on the entire island, and I even dug around in the bottom of my poinsettia trunk for the hat I brought for just the occasion. It took me a little while to find (and why in the world was my calculator in my trunk?), but when I did, I put it on, and darn anything anyone had to say about it. I even put on a red dress to match the red Santa hat, just so it would look alright. I know you're giggling as you read this, Maggie, but you know I'm such an incorrigible child sometimes. I very nearly skipped off of the train, whistling brightly, right up until I slipped on a patch of ice. I think I must have twisted my ankle, because I haven't been able to walk on it since! I hobbled back onto the train and wrapped it in a pressure bandage, and then hobbled back out. I know it wasn't the best idea in the world to keep moving about, but I wasn't going to miss out on seeing Saint's Pole just because of some slippery ice.

Thankfully, the first place I wanted to see wasn't far from the train. There was a small workshop that had a sign outside that said 'Make Your Own Toy,' and I happily hobbled inside. Remember, Maggie: I'm still a child at heart. The workshop wasn't all that busy, thankfully, so I immediately found a place to sit down and figure out what was going on. In no time, it felt like, I had a brand-new Jacob's Ladder, strung on rainbow-colored ribbon. I was playing with it a little when I overheard a few other people behind me: they were going to take their new-made toys to a shelter in the town. I suppose that even here, in Saint's Pole, there is a need for a shelter. I found it to be such a good idea that I followed them. Thankfully, the walk wasn't far, and I was able to limp my way there without injuring myself further.

The woman who ran the shelter took one look at me and promptly sat me down by the fire with my ankle propped up. I'm not sure how she managed to single me out (although the limping might have been a clue), but I was grateful. As I sat there with my handmade toy, a child meandered out of the kitchen with a sandwich in her hand and a smudge of jelly on her face. Her eyes immediately went to the toy in my hand, and I smiled and handed it to her. I didn't mind giving it up to such an adorable girl. She played with it for a moment, and then sat down on the floor by my seat.

"Do you know any stories?" she asked. "I'm tired of Christmas stories." I thought for a moment, and then nodded. I knew a few. I picked a fairy tale I knew well, and began to tell it. In the middle of the story, I shifted in my seat a little and winced when my ankle hit a pot by the fire. I glanced at it, and did a doubletake when I saw the pot had the name 'Jack' etched on it in big letters. How strange... Regardless, I finished my story, and the girl thanked me and ran off.

I think my time in Saint's Pole was well-spent, regardless of my ankle.

All my love,
Margaret

Sixth Letter: Rochelle Harbor

Dearest Maggie,

I find that, as I write to you at length about my vacation, and I fear that I have inundated you with letters. However, that will not be the case for much longer, as this will be the last letter. We have arrived in Rochelle Harbor, and it is our last stop before we return home. The entire population of the train is buzzing like a hive of bees, and has been ever since everyone heard that we would be able to see the Sugarplum Village when we get to Rochelle Harbor. Fortunately, while we were in Saint's Pole, I was able to have someone take a look at my ankle, so I was all set to wander about the festival as I pleased when we arrived. I will admit that when I passed a stand selling hot drinks, I stopped to get one. It was some sort of chocolate-cinnamon-gingerbread concoction topped with whipped cream and a cinnamon stick. It was warming and delicious, and I confess, I will look for something similar when I get home. I loved it that much.

The festive atmosphere here was slightly different from Saint's Pole, as Saint's Pole was from Icy Peaks and so on. It was infectious, and I, like everyone else, seemed to catch it. The entire festival was about cooking and baking, and the scents of those things filled the air, reminding me almost of those little cakes I made back in Reinsend. I wandered into one of the bakeries to watch some of the apprentices work, and I must admit, I had to admire their perseverance. Their taskmistress seemed to be this acerbic woman, barking out orders with a very sharp tongue. It seemed to ameliorate the situation, though, when the woman gave out compliments, as well. I watched for a moment longer before turning around. I had forgotten, though, that the bakery had a step up in the doorway, and I had to do an awkward little jump off of the edge in order not to fall on my face.

I think the grand finale of this stop, however, was when I stopped and got an extra piercing done in my right ear. You know that I already have two in each ear, Maggie, but I stopped and got a third, just in one ear. With that piercing, I bought an earring that was a tiny, sparkling crystal and a dangling cupcake. Because it was a cartilage piercing, the earring ended up being a cuff, but that was just so the dangling cupcake wasn't tangling with my other earrings.

I find that this vacation was exactly what I needed. It was relaxing and fun, and I know I'll be able to go back to my day-to-day life with renewed energy. And I have to thank you, for listening and tolerating my babblings over the last week and a half. So thank you.

All my love,
Maggie