By Pamela Love
I was indoors but surrounded by snowflakes, my heart pounding. Did a blizzard wreck the roof? No, I was in a theater and about to perform in The Burton School of Dance’s 1995 production of The Nutcracker.
My best friend Jasmine was the Snow Queen. “Snowflakes together!” she stage-whispered, pumping her fist.
“Snowflakes together!” her friends answered. Her friends who were snowflakes, that is. Jasmine pirouetted in her sparkly white costume, so unlike my fuzzy gray one. She looked like a ballerina, the way I wanted to. Oh, well. Some of us had to play mice. Wish she’d said, “Dancers together!” though.
Jasmine weaved through the crowd backstage. “How do I look, Maya?”
I made myself smile. “Very ice.” She groaned. “Hey, did you forget your snowflake earrings?”
“Ms. Burton’s worried they’ll come off while I’m dancing.” She shrugged.
Just then, our teacher pointed to the stage. “Places, everyone!”
Moments later the curtain rose. I got a big laugh when I jumped out from behind the Christmas tree to scare the nutcracker. It’s fun to clown around. Jasmine was really good, too. We got a standing ovation when we took our bows. The whole ballet was a hit.
Afterward, Ms. Burton’s daughter opened the girls’ dressing room door for us. “Hi, Destiny,” I said. “I’m Maya. Did you like the ballet?” She giggled and stood on wobbly tiptoes.
Destiny’s sister Nia waved to Jasmine and me from where she was taking off her slippers. “Mom thought we all did great.”
I got changed fast, and I would’ve been quicker if Destiny hadn’t grabbed one of my sneakers and ran off with it. Nia jumped up to follow her. “Destiny, quit that!” She handed it back to me. “My sister can be such a pain sometimes.”
Jasmine was still laughing and talking with the other snowflakes when I put my dancer’s bag on my shoulder. “Jasmine?” I put my hands on my hips. “Jasmine, are you coming or not? Remember, my folks are giving you and your mom a ride home.”
“Give me a minute,” she said.
The room was packed, so I headed out to wait in the hallway. One by one girls left, but none of the snowflakes. Even though their costumes were fancier than mine, it shouldn’t have taken that long to change. Even Destiny scooted down the hallway, giggling, as I stood checking my watch and fidgeting by the door. I was this close to stomping back inside to tell Jasmine off when my friend opened the door, still dressed as the Snow Queen! “What’s wrong, Jasmine?”
“I can’t find my snowflake earrings. You didn’t pick them up, did you?” she asked. I shook my head. “I’m sure I left them in my coat pocket, but they’re gone. We’ve checked everywhere.”
“You’ve got a souvenir, though.” I pointed to a silver Christmas tree ornament swinging from the white tutu.
Carefully, she pulled it off the netting. “Destiny must’ve hung it there. She had it in the dressing room.”
Suddenly Nia dashed into the hall. Frantically she looked around. “Where’s my little sister? Mom told me to watch her, but I was busy helping Jasmine look for her earrings…”
I squirmed. “Sorry, she came out a while ago, but I didn’t see which way she went.” Even though I wasn’t babysitting Destiny, I could’ve said something to her sister.
Nia sprinted down the hallway. “Mom! Destiny’s lost!”
Jasmine called out, “Snowflakes together! Let’s look for Destiny.” I followed, too.
A few minutes later, we heard cheering from the stage. When we got there, Ms. Burton was hugging Destiny, who handed her something. Our teacher frowned. “Jasmine? Is this yours?”
Something tiny sparkled between her fingertips. I figured it was the missing earrings, so we could leave. Unfortunately, it was one earring.
“Destiny can’t tell me where the other earring is,” Ms. Burton explained to the waiting parents, wringing her hands. “I’m afraid she might’ve swallowed it, which would mean going to the hospital. But maybe she dropped it. Could your children help search the stage?”
Everyone agreed. Some came up to help. My dad knelt by the curtain. “Found it! Whoops, sorry. Just some sequins.”
When the stage search came up empty, I had an idea. “We think Destiny hung this ornament on Jasmine’s tutu.” Jasmine held it up. “Maybe she hung the earring on someone else’s.” The snowflakes all checked, without any luck.
Nia asked, “Think she hung the earring on another tutu, like the Sugar Plum Fairy’s?”
“The other girls have taken their costumes home,” said Ms. Burton. “We can’t take that chance. Get your coat, Nia. We’re going to the ER.”
Poor Destiny, I thought.
Climbing down from the stage, I wondered if she’d dropped the earring somewhere else. But who knew where she’d gone in the theater? Wait. “Ms. Burton? If Destiny hung a Christmas tree ornament on Jasmine’s tutu, maybe she hung the earring on the tree.”
Snowflakes surrounded it. Some lifted branches while others unwound the silvery garland or removed ornaments.
“Here it is!” shouted Nia, waving it high.
“Great thinking, Maya,” Dad said.
Jasmine pulled me back on stage. “You might not be a snowflake, but you’re one cool detective.”
For the second time that evening, I bowed for a standing ovation. This time, I was the star.





This story was inspired (in part) by my part as a mouse in my elementary school’s production of Cinderella. (Not that I’m still bitter decades later about not getting the lead, oh no!)
“Snowflakes together!” will be with me all day. A Christmas Nutcracker mystery is a fantastic idea.
Thanks so much!
I imagine there’s a backstory behind everybody assuming that when something goes missing, it’s down in Destiny’s gullet.
She could use more supervision, that’s for sure.
sweet story about sticking together…
I appreciate your compliment.
I loved the mystery here! Earrings are tricky things to keep track of. (Not speaking from personal experience of wearing them, though!)
Glad you enjoyed it.