Once upon a time, in the snowy kingdom of Arendelle, Queen Elsa woke up with a flutter in her heart. Thanksgiving was only two days away, and she wanted to give her sister Anna the best Thanksgiving ever.
Anna loved three things most: warm hugs, pumpkin pie, and surprises. Elsa smiled. “I can do all three,” she whispered to the frost on her window.
First, Elsa tiptoed to the kitchen before the sun rose. She waved her hands, and tiny snowflakes danced into perfect pie crusts. She filled them with pumpkin so golden it glowed. “One pie for every hug Anna gives,” Elsa giggled, stacking twelve pies high.
Next, she slipped outside. With a swirl of her cape, she sculpted a Thanksgiving forest in the courtyard: ice trees with ruby-red apple ornaments, a frozen turkey that sparkled like crystal (but was really chocolate inside!), and a long table carved from a single glacier, shimmering under fairy lights made of snow.
Elsa saved the biggest surprise for last. She wrote a magic message in the sky with swirling snow:
“Anna, you are my favorite adventure. Meet me at the ice table at sunset.”
When Anna saw the glowing words, she squealed and ran barefoot through the halls (Kristoff chasing after her with boots). At sunset, Anna burst into the courtyard. Her eyes went wide.
“Elsa! You made a whole winter Thanksgiving!”
Elsa opened her arms. “And twelve pies for twelve hugs.”
Anna tackled her in the biggest hug. Then another. And another. They counted to twelve, laughing until their cheeks hurt.
They sat at the glittering table. Olaf carved the chocolate turkey with a candy cane knife. Sven wore a pilgrim hat made of carrots. Kristoff told silly stories about reindeer Thanksgiving. And every time Anna took a bite of pie, a tiny snowflake firework popped above her head—Elsa’s secret thank-you for every smile.
When the stars came out, Anna leaned on Elsa’s shoulder. “This is the best Thanksgiving.”
Elsa kissed the top of her head. “Because you’re here.”
And as the northern lights danced green and purple overhead, the sisters made a pinky promise: every Thanksgiving, no matter how far apart, they’d find each other for pie and hugs.
The end.
Sweet dreams, little one. May your Thanksgiving be full of magic and pie, too. 🥧✨