“Now what?” Mom asked.
“Well,” said Mr. Hamada, “some take a few hours. Some take weeks. But the prettiest ones? They take a little patience.”
She boiled water on the stove (with Mom watching carefully) and poured it into the jar. Then she stirred in spoonful after spoonful of borax until the water could take no more—a supersaturated solution, she learned to call it. At the bottom of the jar, a few white grains refused to dissolve, like sleepy snow at the bottom of a lake.