Based on the short story "Silent Snow, Secret Snow" by Pulitzer Prize-winning poet Conrad Aiken.

Host: For our last offering in the Night Gallery, a painting that brings to life a legendary classic from the pen of Conrad Aiken. Fragile, lovely, haunting. It's titled Silent Snow, Secret Snow.

Narrator: Just why this thing should have happened at all, or why it should have happened to him, Paul Haselman could not of course possibly have said, nor perhaps could it ever occur to him ask. It was really nothing, just an idea, so why it should have become so wonderful, so permanent to him, that was the mystery. It was pleasant, possibly foolish, but above all this thing was a secret and something to be preciously concealed.

Narrator: Even here, even among these hostile presences, the snow was waiting. Out of sight, with a voice that said, "Wait, Paul. Just wait till we're alone together. I will tell you something new, something cold, something sleepy, something of cease and peace, and the long bright curve of space. Banish them, refuse to speak. Go upstairs to your room. I will be waiting for you. I will tell you a story better than the Snow Ghost. I will surround your bed, pile a deep drift against the door so none will ever be able to enter."