Ginger had walked the trail by the river more times than she could count.

She knew where the cottonwoods leaned over the water. She knew which bend in the trail was always muddy after a rain and where the rabbits liked to disappear into the tall grass. She even knew the old hollow tree with the crooked branch that looked like an arm pointing toward the mountains.

But one morning, Ginger noticed something she had never seen before. A tiny green door. It was right at the bottom of the old cottonwood.

Ginger stopped an.d stared at it. Then she looked around to see if anyone else had noticed. There was no one there.

The door was hardly taller than her hand. It was painted the deep green of pine needles, with a little round brass knob no bigger than a pea. Above it, carved carefully into the bark, were three words:

FOR THE CURIOUS

Ginger smiled. “Well,” she said, “that certainly sounds like me.”

She knelt beside the tree and reached for the tiny knob. Before she could touch it, the door swung open.m Golden light spilled onto the ground.

Ginger leaned closer. Inside was not the dark hollow of a tree.mThere was a trail.mAn entire trail.

It wound through a forest filled with blue ferns, silver mushrooms, and flowers that glowed like tiny lanterns.

“That is impossible,” Ginger whispered. A little voice answered from somewhere inside.m “Most interesting things are.”

Ginger nearly fell backward. A small mouse stepped through the doorway.  At least, Ginger thought it was a mouse. It had round ears, bright black eyes, and a tail that curled at the end like a question mark. Around its neck was a tiny red scarf.

“Are you a talking mouse?” Ginger asked. “Are you a talking girl?” the mouse replied. Ginger considered this. “Fair enough.”

The mouse bowed. “My name is Pip.” “I’m Ginger.” “I know.” Ginger raised an eyebrow. “How?” “The trail knows everyone who is curious enough to find it.”

Ginger looked through the doorway again. “But I can't possibly fit through there.”

Pip twitched his whiskers. “You're thinking too ordinarily.” “I usually do.”m“That is unfortunate.”

Then Pip reached into his pocket and tossed a pinch of sparkling dust into the air. It landed on Ginger's hair.

WHOOSH!

Suddenly the grass beside her grew as tall as trees. The pebbles became boulders. And the tiny green door wasn't tiny anymore.

Ginger looked down at herself. “I shrank!” “Much easier than making the door bigger,” said Pip. Ginger stepped through.

The little door clicked shut behind her. For a moment she simply stood there. Everything shimmered.

Spiderwebs stretched between branches like silver lace. Fireflies floated through the air even though it was morning. Somewhere nearby, water made a soft tinkling sound, almost like someone playing tiny bells.

“This is magic,” Ginger whispered. Pip shook his head. “No. This is the Magic Trail.”

Ginger followed him deeper into the forest. Soon they came to three paths. One was covered in golden leaves.. One sparkled with tiny blue stones. And one looked completely ordinary.

A wooden sign stood between them.

CHOOSE THE PATH THAT NEEDS YOU.

Ginger frowned. “How am I supposed to know which one needs me?”

Pip sat on a mushroom.n“Listen.” Ginger listened. She heard birds. Wind. Water. Leaves rustling overhead.

Then—Sniff. Ginger tilted her head. Sniff... sniff.

“Someone's crying.” She followed the sound. It came from the ordinary path.

Pip smiled. Ginger hurried along it until she found a tiny dragon sitting beneath a fern.

He was no bigger than a rabbit, with turquoise scales, purple wings, and two little curls of smoke drifting from his nose. “What's wrong?” Ginger asked. “I lost my fire.” “You lost it?” The dragon nodded sadly.

“I sneezed this morning and it flew right out.”mGinger wasn't sure fire worked that way, but this was the Magic Trail.n“Where did it go?” The dragon pointed toward a patch of enormous flowers.

Ginger searched beneath leaves, behind rocks, and inside hollow logs. At last she noticed something glowing inside a yellow flower. “There!”

She reached carefully between the petals and pulled out a tiny flickering flame. It danced above her palm without burning her.mThe little dragon opened his mouth. Ginger tossed the flame.

GULP!mHe swallowed it. For a moment nothing happened. Then—

ACHOO! A puff of bright orange fire shot into the air.

The dragon bounced happily.n “You found it!”

Ginger laughed.

The little dragon flapped his wings and flew away, leaving a trail of sparkling smoke behind him.

When Ginger turned around, the ordinary path had changed. Golden stars now glimmered beneath her feet. Pip was waiting beside the little green door.

“Is that all?” Ginger asked. “I thought a magic trail would have treasure or castles or something.”

Pip smiled.n “It does.”

“Where?” “You found something that was lost.”

Ginger looked back toward the forest. “That was the treasure?”

“Sometimes.”

The door opened.

Before Ginger stepped through, Pip handed her a tiny silver bell. “What does this do?” “Nothing.”

Ginger frowned. “Then why give it to me?” “To remind you.” “Of what?”

Pip's tail curled into its question mark again. “That magic isn't always where you expect to find it.”

Ginger stepped through the doorway.

WHOOSH!

The grass became grass again. The pebbles became pebbles. And Ginger was once again her usual size.

She turned toward the old cottonwood. The little green door was gone. There was only rough brown bark. Ginger searched everywhere. Nothing.

For a moment, she wondered if she had imagined the whole thing. Then something jingled in her pocket.

She reached inside. There was the tiny silver bell.

Ginger smiled and continued down the trail.

After that, she paid even closer attention to the world around her. She looked beneath mushrooms. She listened when the wind whispered through the cottonwoods. She inspected suspicious-looking holes in trees.

Because Ginger had learned something important that morning. The world might look perfectly ordinary... right up until the moment you discover that it isn't.

And somewhere along the Magic Trail, behind a little green door that appeared only for the curious, a mouse named Pip was waiting.

Because Ginger had a feeling this wouldn't be her last visit.

Not even close.