In a snow-clad maple forest

In each forest, there must be a place where a crystal clearing across the silvery river leads to the maple forest. A wonderful forest never discards its foliage, and only each time, depending on the season, changes its color. Under the thick crowns of fairy trees, on the edge of a small clearing, a small hut lurked, inside of which, on a shelf, large and small miracles are talking. The owner in it...