Read by Michael Flamel

Winter descended upon the village with a blanket of snow, painting rooftops and cobblestone streets alike in pristine white. The frosty air carried whispers of Clara’s coughs and sniffles as she struggled to shake off a stubborn cold.

The herbalist noticed the baker’s daughter wrapped in layers of wool, her usually cheerful disposition dimmed by the weight of her illness. With a knowing smile, she approached Clara’s family bakery, the scent of freshly baked bread in the air.

“Good morning, Clara,” the herbalist greeted warmly, her eyes twinkling with kindness. “It seems you’ve caught a chill.”

Clara nodded, her nose pink from the cold. “Yes, it’s been a tough few days. My father needs me in the bakery, but I can barely lift a rolling pin with this cold.”

The herbalist nodded sympathetically. “Fear not, my dear. I have just the remedy to chase away those Winter woes.” She rummaged through her satchel, producing bundles of fragrant herbs.

Clara’s eyes widened with curiosity as she watched the herbalist work her magic. “What’s that you’re brewing?”

“A special herbal steam,” the herbalist explained, her hands deftly measuring out eucalyptus leaves, peppermint, and thyme. “It’ll clear your congestion and have you feeling better in no time.”

Clara’s family gathered around as the herbalist prepared the steaming potion, their faces lit with anticipation. Soon, the pot was simmering, releasing clouds of aromatic steam into the room.

“Close your eyes and breathe deeply,” Elara instructed, guiding Clara’s face over the pot. “Let the healing herbs work their magic.”

Clara inhaled deeply, the warmth of the steam enveloping her like a comforting embrace. The soothing scents of eucalyptus and peppermint danced in her nostrils, easing the tightness in her chest.

After a few moments, Clara’s eyes fluttered open, a hint of color returning to her cheeks. “I already feel better,” she exclaimed, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

The herbalist chuckled, her eyes crinkling with amusement. “That’s the power of nature’s medicine for you. But remember, rest is just as important as herbal remedies.”

Clara nodded, gratitude shining in her eyes. “Thank you, herbalist. I’ll be sure to take it easy and let the herbs work their magic.”

As Clara bid farewell to the herbalist, the aroma of fresh bread mingled with the scent of healing herbs, filling the bakery with warmth and hope.

And so, with a steaming pot of herbal remedy and a sprinkle of kindness, Clara’s cold melted away like snow under the morning sun, leaving her ready to embrace the joys of baking once more.

As the herbalist strolled through the snow-covered streets, her heart warmed by the knowledge that even in the chilliest of Winters, the magic of herbs could bring healing and comfort to those in need. And with each remedy shared and each smile restored, the bond between the herbalist and the village grew stronger, like the roots of a mighty oak tree, anchored deep in the earth.