On Monday morning, Class 1b smelled of chalk, sharpeners and fresh notebooks. The sun was casting golden patches on the benches, and carefully written letters waited on the blackboard. An aquarium blinked in the corner and Fistash, the class hamster, munched on a seed, taking short breaks for the all-important whisker pulls. Zosia sat next to Frank. They both liked the front row: from here everything could be seen and heard clearly and you could raise your hand quickly if a question was jumping all by itself in the middle. Today, however, something else was jumping inside everyone. On the yellow cabinet, the one with the number 7, stood a checked box tied with a blue ribbon. On the side it had a sticker: "To be opened at the end of the day". "What's that?" - whispered Franek. He tilted his head and held his breath, as if the box might answer him. Mrs Hania smiled enigmatically. "It's for our class. Please, we'll sit down for now. First the lesson, then the surprise." Zosia felt a tickle of curiosity in her stomach. The lesson began as usual: the letter for today, a few words to read, the quiet chatter of notebooks and crayons. Yet every now and then Zosia glanced at the box. It stood still. Only the ribbon glittered, as if it had a hint of heaven in it. As the class was rewriting sentences, something sounded quietly: tick-tock. Then again: tick-tock. Everyone looked at the clock, but the hands were moving in their usual slow motion. Mrs Hania knocked gently on the tabletop. "Did you hear that?" - hissed Franek to Zosia. "Maybe it was the chalk that tapped?" - whispered Zosia, although the chalk lay motionless in the gutter. At break time, the children lined up to wash their hands, then returned to drink water and eat their second breakfast. The box was still stuck on locker seven, only now there was something on its lid that hadn't been there before: a tiny yellow feather, the size of a fingernail. "Where did this feather come from?" - wondered Zosia aloud. - "I don't think it was there before." "Maybe it flew in through the window?" - suggested Franek. He glanced at the window. It was closed. The glass had finger marks, but no draught. "Back to the benches!" - called out Mrs Hania. Hearing this, Fisty stopped munching and pressed his paws to his cheeks, as if he wanted to listen too. In the second part of the morning they counted. Zosia was arranging the sticks and Franek was moving the beads on the abacus. When he moved the tenth bead, the quiet 'tic' sounded again. This time the 'tic' was joined by a whisper. A whisper indeed. Gentle as a leaf moved by the wind: fff. Zosia looked over. The ribbon on the box moved a millimetre, as if someone had blown. And suddenly a smell wafted into Zosia's nose that matched neither the chalk nor the sharpener. It smelled of the forest after the rain. Like pine needles. Like fresh air on a Saturday. "Miss Hania?" - Zosia couldn't stand it and raised her hand. - "Can a forest smell out of a box?" A few people giggled, but Mrs Hania nodded, continuing to smile. "Things happen. Patience." During the next break, the children arranged their chairs in a semi-circle and Mrs Hania told a short story about letters that like to combine into new words. As everyone repeated the more difficult words, the box twitched. Barely, barely, but still. The ribbon fell off the side and unrolled like a little stream. Frank opened his mouth in surprise. "Did you see that? It moved! It moved by itself!" "Maybe someone nudged it?" - said Basia from the other bench. - "Or Fisty... oh, no, after all, Fisty doesn't come out." Everyone reflexively looked at the cage. The hamster was sleeping curled up in a ball on its house, moving its nose in its sleep. When they got back to work, Sophie noticed something else: tiny dots had appeared on the top of the cupboard, like raindrops, only dry, as if drawn through the air. The dots formed an arc, leading from the edge of the cupboard to the box itself. "Footsteps?" - whispered Franek. - "Who leaves marks that can't be touched?" "Maybe someone very light." - whispered Zosia, and suddenly she was pleasantly shivering. The school bell sounded and the backpacks vibrated. The last lesson remained, and then it was "the end of the day". Class 1b was suddenly very, very quiet, although everyone was. Even the chairs stopped creaking. Mrs Hania stood up, walked over to her locker and put her hand on the box. She looked at it for a moment, as if listening to what it said. Then she turned back to the class. "I think we can do this now." Zosia's heart rattled like a little drum. Franek inadvertently held his breath. A few hands went up, though no one asked anything. Mrs Hania grasped the end of the ribbon gently. The ribbon rustled like grass and fell to the tabletop. The lid rustled. It fluttered, but very politely, as if it too was upsetting itself. Mrs Hania lifted it a millimetre. A thin stream of air slid out of the box, smelling of strawberries and fresh poster paint. Something rattled quietly from inside. "One... two..." - counted Mrs Hania in a whisper. - "Three." The lid lifted a little more, something as colourful as a rainbow flashed in the crevice and, before anyone had time to blink, a bright, warm glow flowed from the depths of the box and....