Dawn was just breaking when millions of snowflakes appeared, dancing over the town as it slept under the breaking day. They fell to the ground slowly, covering houses like a soft blanket. The dense snow seemed to hide the countryside with a single, never-ending curtain. The streetlights were off too; they didn't feel like shining. 'Everyone has to rest sometime', they must have been thinking.

In the dark, the only movement was the swirling, icy wind skimming some flakes from the fresh snowdrifts and whirling them around. After a good dance, it playfully left piles of snow in front of the doors of the houses and gracefully skipped up to the steeple over the church.

The roof of the church steeple was covered with coloured tiles, and it commanded a good view over the town. The old steeple was home to six bells and a small, downy little bird who was sleeping on a wooden beam.

Suddenly, a freezing gust of winter wind rushed between the bells and swept the tiny bird off the beam. While he was falling, this little ball of feathers woke up in fright from his sweet dreams. The fall was interrupted by a knock: he fell onto one of the bells. 'Dong!' rang out the bell. Then the little bird carried on falling, and luckily, he fell onto a soft sack that was lying on the ground. Poor little thing! Every bone in his body hurt, and in his fright, for a while, he hardly dared move.

The bird stared sadly at the bells, then sighed and thought about having some breakfast. But whose door could he knock on so early in the morning for a little food? 'After all, now everyone is asleep!'he thought. 

All the townsfolk were asleep, dreaming of Christmas. Only one person was less excited about the festivities. Peter Vole was wide awake in his bed. He couldn't sleep. He was nervous and impatient. His blanket was about to slide off the bed. He jumped up immediately. 'What a cold night,' thought Peter, shivering. He pulled his small duvet around him so that only his little nose was poking out from it.

Then he noticed a sudden noise. Outside, the branches were swaying slowly in the wind, and they were knocking against the large windows of his room. 'Perhaps someone is walking outside!' he thought to himself. The silky light of the moon cast dark shadows on the wall of the branches swaying in the breeze. Suddenly, one of the church bells rang out menacingly. 'Who can be ringing the bells at this hour?' wondered Peter. Then he climbed out of bed and scurried to the window.