SECTION III - STORY TIME

CatCorner - How much love is enough? - Sorcy SummerWind
Fiona & Julian - The Wake - Selene SilverWind
Meagan's Lammas - Kat Dyer

CatCorner - Ancient Sassy's: How much love is enough?
By Sorceress SummerWind

One day we look at our velvetfoot, and see grey hair and wrinkles on the beloved face. In my case, or rather, my regal Simamese's, "Minou", that 'cronehood' day has been some two years ago.

Cats don't seem to age gradually. One day, they butt their head into your face, and you see their shiny eyes surrounded with wrinkled skin, muzzle less sharply defined, and skin gone lax. Hasn't it only been yesterday I yowled at the feel of needlesharp claws as a fluffy kitten climbs up my bare legs? A decade gone by unnoticed, filled with laughter, torn toilet rolls, and love.

Minou is every bit as temperamental as she was 15 years ago, only, the attitudes last, say, a few short seconds, rather then a whole hour. And secure in her role as elder, she demands respect more aggressively from the other adult cats. Only little Romeo can still get away with invading her space and plop down half on top of her without having to fear a shredded face.

Any warm surface is not only commandeered but defended with grim determination. I am lucky if I ever get some hot air going AROUND the cat from the bathroom heater. Some days I am afraid a neighbor will turn me in upon seeing her singed fur (I usually don't notice until she starts smelling crisp, THEN get her off the darn thing). Who would believe she does it to herself? Sometimes she is so hot to the touch, I have to drop her, and fast. Talk about heatseekers.

Oldsters also sleep more deeply. Not a snowball chance in hell to walk up unnoticed to a sleeping cat in her prime. Minou? Sometimes I end up shaking her fearfully, until she opens one glaring, resentful eye, just to know she's still alive. When she is out, she's out, alright.

There comes a time where each one of us is ultimately faced with the question how much is enough? Enough cuddles, purrs at night, enough time spent together .. The nights seem shorter, and the little body closely pressed to my face in its compact silkiness is somehow more precious; for those moments are numbered.

How determined can one be to keep one's sister around? I have always struggled to find a way to explain why I don't feel differently towards my feline companions than to human family members. Would you put your mother down when she was diagnosed with, say, MS? Would your sister choose to die rather then have insulin injections each day? I don't think even the realists among us need to answer that (the dreamers knew better anyways), and I might as well point out that the statement: (huffy voice) "Well, that is NOT the same as an animal" doesn't impress me one bit. Isn't it? I know it is, for I HAVE a kitty which has so-called terminal diseases, and lived with it for, oh, 6 years or so.

At first, at a regular checkup/bloodtest, Minou was diagnosed with FIP.
(for more info on this and other cat illnesses, visit my catsite: http://www.geocities.com/Athens/Troy/7456 ). FIP sends out the same emotional shockwave that Aids does for the two-legged folks. It basically burns down to the same thing, total break down of the immune system, except that it is deadly within weeks. Wait, hold that thought, make that is SUPPOSED to be deadly within a matter of weeks. My vet suggested to put her down and spare her the trouble before she shows symptoms. Helloooo? Scoop up kitty, find new vet, pronto!

Since then, continuous tests have shown that she is 'only' a carrier, with a low titer (the count that determines how bad it is) in her blood. In a little ritual I began to transfer energy and love into my little furball, but instead of closing the ritual, I left an open and unlimited link to my own life force. And despite all prognosis, Minou lives, sometimes with the added healing boost of caring friends around the world when an all-time low occurs.

By now, there is also a vaccination available, and while vets continue to argue whether it's a good or bad choice to make, all my other cats have received theirs. And yes, stubborn as I am, I'm STLL breeding my beloved Maine-Coons, with not one kitten (or grown up of the family, for that matter) ever showing anything but perfectly healthy in their final checkups. Take that, Buster.

If FIP wasn't enough, last year Minou has been diagnosed (and barely saved, thank you from the bottom of my heart, Dr. Luft) with kidney malfunction slash failure. The only life prolonging measures are bothersome, and very expensive - there is no cure, at least, none ethical. Sure, one could kill a stray to get its kidneys to implant them to the lucky cared-for feline; that is, if one can face the karma AND the bill, so, never mind - That means it's low protein diet, dialysis, and medication (try to convince a carnivore to go vegan, and face the fury of a VERY pissed turkey lover).

Since we noticed it so late, the liver was already damaged, so add a daily dose of pills to the schedule. (Note: Any cat past the age of 8 needs a low protein diet, or the kidneys WILL fail eventually. Kidney failure is the number one cause of death in cats over 10).

But still, my cat lives. Too much, you ask? Too painful, too unnatural? I had her saved to have some time to say goodbye. To 'get used to the idea' of being without the companion of my growing-up years. And in the weeks of decision making of how much is enough, I was faced with a happy, attentive cat, who kept looking at me 'that' way. Minou, sensing my thoughts, feeling my heart, and so I softly probed her own mind for an answer. The unexpected power of her life force, her lust for life, left me tingling.

There IS no understanding of suffering in an animal (forgive me if I'm mistaken, this is only one cat speaking). No thought along the lines of, tomorrow I'll feel worse. There is no concept of having to endure pain, or having an option. There is only acceptance. Animals don't think past the present, nor do they envision a future. There is only today. There is only life. And life is what my soft footed sister wanted. With every fiber, every breath, every purr, and SCREW the kidneys.

So the weeks transformed into months, with a few blessed souls from America sending care packages of Kidney-Diet catfood, until I finally found the product in Europe. By now, we're going into the second year.

There is the look I have to endure when she mewls for her food and is given 'that' stuff. And settles before it with a sigh only too human, wishing for the days of BigMac treats. There is the daily struggle with swallowing one huge, gall bitter pill (think I wouldn't lick my finger to find out WHY she's shredding me to pieces? Bet again J. I'm lucky Minou has lost all her teeth a few years back, so at least, she can't impale me on her fangs as she used to in younger days when vitamins were due). Yes, she's pissed, she hates it. And she has NO qualms whatsoever to let the world in general and me in particular know about it. But does it hurt unduly? The answer is no. Not any more than it does any of us who are forced to take various medications.

There is the daily IV with saline fluid in lieu of dialysis. Does she growl and howl up a storm? You BET! But does she settle after a minute and wait for the bottle to empty? Most certainly. She knows her routine by now. The bi-weekly shots (again, thanks to 'da vet-lady', something I can do myself by now) of detox-agents don't cause either of us to blink an eyelid.

I have since had to face the realists quite a few times. Those, who deem an animal's life not worth saving if said animal is not healthy. Those, who think they can make the decision which life is not worth fighting for. Money, time, trouble. So what? It was our choice. And I can only encourage you to stand true to your own hearts when the time comes. I know from experience that our friends are quite capable of leting us know, without a doubt, when it is time to go. Until then, use what magick is afoot, and be grateful for choices.

For there is no such thing as too much love.

Brightest Blessings, and always a full bowl of cream on thy tables (or in Minou's case, soymilk).

The Wake
By Selene Silverwind
Slvrwind@aol.com

Fiona stood at the sink idly washing dishes as she listened to Julian's phone conversation, his tone drawing her attention more fully as it grew heavy. He hung up and turned to her with a pained sigh. "My aunt Mary died this morning. The cancer finally took her," he said slowly, pronouncing the words carefully as their gravity started to sink in. Fiona gently set down the plate she was washing and crossed over to him, taking him into her arms and holding him as the first wave of grieving sobs began to rock his body. Together they sank to the floor and she cradled him in his arms as he mourned the loss of his beloved aunt.

When his tears had dried for the moment, he lay spent in her arms on the kitchen floor while she gently stroked his hair. "The funeral is in three days. It's on a mountain in one of the other Cities. One of the newer ones. My aunt used to visit a retreat house up there. My mom says she left very detailed instructions for her memorial. I think it's going to be an unusual experience for my family."

Fiona looked down into his eyes, "I'm coming with you."

Julian twisted in her arms and caressed her gently sloping belly. "Are you sure it's okay for you to travel?" Fiona simply nodded and Julian accepted that without another word.

Three days later Fiona and Julian arrived in the other City by superjet; the high-speed natural gas powered vehicle was capable of traveling between the Cities at up to 1500 miles an hour. They met Julian's parents who had arrived a day earlier at the departure gate and followed them out to the new city which looked much like their own, but still held the character unique to each City as the renovators had tried to retain some of the original flavor of the old cities.

The family boarded the monorail and sat silently as it zipped through the city to the mortuary where they would gather the ashes of Julian's aunt and depart for the mountaintop. Once they reached the low building set away from the center of the city, the attendant from the City's Death Services Department whisked away their bags and Jensa and Eion followed him inside. Julian turned to Fiona. "I wish we were celebrating Lammas right now, rather than being here," he said in a hushed tone. "I do, too. But I guess in a way we're experiencing the wake aspect of Lughnasadh instead." "Yeah, but that doesn't make this any easier," he whispered and bowed his head in sorrow. Fiona reached out and pulled him into a hug. As she held him, his body went slack against hers and another sob rolled through him. She stood there gently stroking his head until the tears subsided and he lifted his head. "Thank you," he murmured.

"I love you," she replied softly.

He reached out for her hand and together they made their way into the building to wait for the departure vehicle. While they waited, Fiona was briefly re-introduced to Julian's extended family of an aunt and uncle, their daughter, and her young daughter. The attendant came in and ushered them and the other family members outside where they silently boarded the waiting van that would take them to the site Mary had chosen for her memorial.

Slowly the van made its way to the mountaintop where they would mourn the passing of Julian's beloved aunt, a woman who had never married yet had been a sometime mother to Julian and his cousins. She had held the family together in many ways and was quite simply the best person many of them had ever known. They were gathered together to cast her ashes to the wind. It was a time for saying goodbye as well as a time for celebrating her life.

The car pulled to a stop in a clearing and the attendant came around and opened the door. Eion stepped out and after a few hushed words, pointed to the spot where camp should be set up. While the attendant carried their bags to tents that had already been set up nearby, the family members scattered across the mountain clearing, some walking to the edge to peer into the woods, half expecting to see Mary come walking out of them, while others went to wander a brief way up the path they would follow later to the top.

Julian took Fiona's hand and led her toward a retreat house nestled above them. They stood in the clearing below and gazed up at it, perched in majestic peace at the edge of the earth. "She took me there once when I was a child. She was trying to teach me to meditate. Instead I ran around the house in circles until she gave up and took me home. I loved every second of it, though."

Julian turned and pulled her into his arms. "I wish you had gotten a chance to know her better. You have so much in common with her... had so much... I'm not sure what's right..."

Fiona leaned in closer and hugged him warmly. "I know what you mean, sweetie. I wish I had known her better too. At least she was able to attend our handfasting."

Julian nodded slackly, "Yes. At least."

Fiona and Julian parted slightly and walked slowly back toward the center of the camp where the attendant was carrying baskets of food and offerings to the table. After he left, Jensa asked Fiona and Julian to help her set up the altar. They approached with reverence, but as soon as Julian saw a photo of himself with his aunt poking out of the corner of the box, he collapsed on the bench in tears. Fiona started to go to him, but he waved her back to help Jensa. Jensa retold the family stories behind the photos as she and Fiona arranged them on table with trinkets that represented her pastimes and objects that had special significance to them and to her. They would be burned later in a sacred ceremony. Once burnt, they would be sent off with her ashes to help her make her way toward her next life.

As darkness, fell a fire was built in the stone circle beside the altar. The family gathered around the altar and fire in dark cloaks. As they gathered they reached out to hold each other's hands. One by one they entered the circle and stepped up to the altar. Each person placed an offering on the altar and spoke of what it meant and of what she had meant to them. Once everyone had placed their offerings on the table, they went into the circle again to place the offering in the blazing fire. After all the offerings had been added to the flames, Jensa gathered the photos and other objects and placed them in the fire as well. The family watched in silence, tears streaming down their faces as their memories whipped through them and tore at their souls. They experienced the pain wholly and without chagrin and kept the fire up throughout the night in a silent vigil.

As dawn rose, Eion stepped forward and gathered the ashes of the memories in a stone urn. As he swept the ashes away, he lost his strict self-control and set the urn down, his shoulders shaking with fresh grief. He motioned for Julian to come forward and asked him to carry Mary's urn for him. Julian nodded slowly and gingerly lifted the urn. Fiona came forward and Jensa handed her the urn bearing the ashes of the momentos without a word. Silently Julian led them out of the circle toward the path to the mountaintop and they worked their way to the top in quiet meditation. There was no rush, this was a time for recollection and sorrow. The wind picked up as they approached the peak and it seemed to them that it was Mary making her wind to carry her off to the Summerlands.

Once they reached the top they formed another circle. Julian stepped toward the very peak and held aloft his aunt's urn. He opened the jar and tipped it so the ashes would begin to fall. The wind grabbed at their cloaks and lifted the ashes away from the ground, carrying them off the mountain into the sky. Light from the setting full moon and the newly rising sun streamed through the ashes like fairy dust so the family could witness her ascension toward the Summerlands. As the urn emptied Fiona came forward with the second urn. She opened it and held it over her, tipping it so those ashes could follow the path of the first.

Fiona and Julian stood silently, tears streaming down their damp cheeks as they watched the ashes drift away from them and offered prayers of safe passage to Mary. Part of Julian recognized that after this weekend he would not have any time left to say goodbye. Mary had made her peace with her death and was departing for the other side shortly. She had only stayed to witness the farewells of her family. He centered on her spirit as Fiona had taught him and spoke with his soul of the love he had felt for her. A gentle breeze caressed his cheek and it seemed to him that he could her whisper, "I know" softly in his ear. He felt a deep peace come over him. His grief would last a long time, but he knew the worst of it had gone from him.

The wind died down and as the family made its way down the mountain, they began to remember the happy times with Mary, when she had helped them to experience life at it's fullest. By the time they returned to camp the wind had died down completely. They gathered in the fire circle again and cast off their dark cloaks. Beneath the cloaks they wore brightly colored cotton tunics, pants and dresses. Eion wore blue, his sister's favorite color. Julian wore red, the color she had worn when she had taken him to the retreat house. Fiona wore white to signify Mary's pure heart. Jensa wore purple, a power color Mary had often worn. The other family members wore the remaining bright hues of the rainbow, completing the sequence.

They each told a new story about Mary. About a time when she had helped them out of trouble without chastising them, or helped them to see a truth that they had missed in their anger or pain, or of the gatherings in her home and all the happy times they had spent there as children. Julian's cousin picked up a harp and began to play the tune her aunt had sung to her, which she had then in turn sung to her children. The song flooded Julian's heart with joyous memories of the time long ago when he had truly felt safe and at peace. Times when his aunt had cradled him in his bed, rocking him to sleep so the monsters could not come.

Fiona noticed that through all this Eion had remained quiet and Jensa was having too difficult time dealing with her own grief to comfort her suffering husband. Fiona reached for Julian and nodded toward Eion. He caught her meaning and they crossed over to him and sat beside him. "Do you want to talk about it?" Fiona asked gently. He looked over at her supportive face and his tears poured from him as he explained that he still mourned the passing of his sister. He could not yet feel the joyous memories. Instead he felt the pain of having to live out the rest of his days without his best friend to confide in and longed for the summer days they had spent as children without a care for the future.

He could only remember the pain of watching her die. The image of her passing, her hand held firmly in his own, had stayed with him throughout the celebration. He recalled her final words to him, playing them over and over in his head, wishing he had been able to answer her. "You can do that now," Fiona reminded him quietly. "You're right. Thank you, you're so much like her you know." Fiona smiled faintly. "Julian said something about that when we were first dating." Eion reached out for Julian and they hugged deeply as another wave of grief washed through each of them.

"I know, Dad. I know. I'll miss her too. But we have to say goodbye and then try to live our lives as she would have, by being the best people we can."

Eion nodded and realized his son was right. He rose and went back to his tent, emerging a moment later with a large box. He struggled with it for a moment before Julian noticed and rushed over to help him, but Eion insisted on carrying the box himself as was his duty. He set the box down by the fire and when the circle quieted, repeated to his family his sister's words in her last moments and how she had wished they would remember the happy times and pass on to their children what she had taught them. She wanted her traditions to live on in them. As Mary had approached her last day, she had carefully chosen special items for each of them and written a little note to each explaining the meaning behind the gift. He called them up to receive their gifts in turn.

When it was Julian's turn, Eion handed him the wooden humidor that had been Mary's jewelry box. When he was little she had taken him rock-hunting and then given him the box to keep his treasures in. She had sat him down and carefully explained the name and properties of each rock. He had eventually forgotten them and the box had found its way to the attic. Now he opened the box and discovered those rocks inside with the labels he had made in his careful childish printing. Julian unfolded his note and read it through bleary eyes. "My sweetest Julian, I saved these rocks for you because I knew you would someday want them for your own son. Teach him what I taught you and give these rocks to him when the time is right. I can't tell you how elated I was when you found Fiona. I will be watching over you from above. I will miss you. Love always, Mary."

Eion continued distributing the gifts and Fiona was surprised when Eion called her up. He handed her a thick leather-bound journal. She carried the heavy journal to her place beside Julian and opened it to the first page. It was Mary's old herb lore book. Fiona's name had been carefully printed at the bottom of the list of five names as it had been passed on for five generations. Fiona opened the note that was tucked inside and began to read it to herself. "My dear Fiona, I worried about what would become of my knowledge once I passed away until Julian brought you into the family. I see much of myself in my younger days in you and know that you will continue to pass on the knowledge of the old ways that I learned over the years. Much of what I know you have already learned on your own. Please teach the child you carry all you know and pass this book on when the time is right. All my love, Mary." Fiona failed to notice the tears streaming from her eyes as she read the letter until one fell on the note and began to blur the blue ink. She quickly wiped up the wet spot and tucked the note back in the book.

Eion took the last gift for himself and returned to his seat in the circle. Julian rose and announced that it was time for the feasting to begin. All of Mary's favorites were there. All the little secrets that she had passed on to them had been used in preparing the sumptuous feast. They asked Fiona to bless the food as she had more experience in these matters than they did. She blessed the food in the name of Mary and in the name of the Great Mother, then she prepared a plate for Mary and set it in a place of honor at the head of the table. The offering made, the merriment began in earnest as they passed the ale around the table and toasted to Mary. They devoured all of her favorite foods with gusto, just as they always had when she had prepared them on family holidays.

They finished the meal after their day-long fast and prepared to go to sleep for the night. Fiona and Julian lay in each other's arms in the tent and Julian ran his hand gently over Fiona's belly. Suddenly the little boy inside her kicked his hand hard. "Oh my Goddess, I felt it!" he exclaimed.

Fiona smiled. "He's a very active little boy."

Julian lay his head back on the pillow and pondered at the circular nature of life. His aunt's life had just ended and his child's was just beginning. He took comfort in that thought.

In the morning the family awoke to a beautiful, clear day. Their hearts were still heavy, but not as heavy as they had been when the family had arrived at the mountain two days ago. They all made their way to the table and set to a morning feast before they departed for home. They shared their dreams with each other, it seemed they had all dreamt of Mary and each dream had involved the gifts she had given them.

Once they had finished eating, they packed up their belongings and retrieved instruments and leftover firewood from the circle. Finally they took down the table that had served as the altar. Eion took a framed photo of Mary and put it in the box with his gift.

The attendant's vehicle arrived and the family members waited while their belongings were packed into the cars before turning back to the mountain for one final goodbye. Julian and Fiona looked at the spot from which Mary's ashes had been released. Fiona placed a hand on her lips and blew a kiss out to her. She felt Mary return it ever so gently with a brush of air against her cheek. She bowed her head, wiped a tear from her eye, and stepped into the car.

"Thank you for coming, love," Julian murmured in her ear.

"You don't need to thank me. You're my husband."

"I just wish our child had known her," he whispered, his shoulders slumping at the realization that Mary would never meet his child.

Fiona reached for his hand and squeezed it tightly. "He will."

Julian looked deep in her eyes and realized that she was right.

MEAGAN'S LAMMAS
By Kathryn Dyer
copyright 1996

Once upon a time there was a little girl named Meagan. She lived with her mother Elizabeth, her father Michael, her brother Corwin and her cat Starweaver. One day Meagan was helping her mother do the grocery shopping. They were buying ingredients to make bread. They got flour, yeast, and molasses. Meagan was very excited. She was going to help make the bread for her family's Lammas celebration.

Meagan knew that Lammas was also called the 'Loaf Mass' by some Christians. It was a holiday to celebrate the grain harvest. She helped her mother put the groceries into the cloth bags and carry them to the car. Soon they were ready to go home and start making the bread. "Mommy," asked Meagan, "can we make a loaf for Cindy and Mrs. Hanson?"

Elizabeth nodded, "I think that's a great idea! We're going to make a loaf for each of them, two for the coven and maybe a loaf for Nana and Gamma Lee and Granpa Scott. How many loaves will we need to make?" Meagan thought and thought. She started to count on her fingers.

"Hmmm," she said, "let's see, two and two is four and one is five and one is six. We need to make six loaves of bread to have enough for everyone." "That's right!" said her mother, "and as soon as your brother gets home we'll start making them."

Meagan helped unload the groceries when they got home. She helped set out the ingredients for the bread. Then she decided to make cards to go with the bread until Corwin got home. She made a card for her best friend Cindy and Mrs. Hanson who lived down the street. She made a card for her Nana. She made a card for Gamma Lee and Granpa Scott. Corwin was still not home. Meagan sighed. Her cat Starweaver jumped up into her lap and started to purr. "Gosh," she said to him, "I don't think that Corwin will ever come home!" She decided to make a card for Gwennie's new baby. Gwennie was in their coven and would be having a baby very soon. Michael had told Meagan that the midwife said that Gwennie's baby would probably be a little boy. Meagan carefully chose a red crayon for fire.

Meagan drew a red lion to stand for fire and the South. She drew a yellow eagle for air and the East. She drew a blue dragon for water and the West and she drew a green stag for earth and the North. Meagan stopped and looked at her card. She opened it up and put a silver Goddess on one side and a gold God on the other. Just then Corwin came in the back door with their father. His face was pale. He had a white cast on his arm. Meagan jumped up from the table just as her mother came into the room. "What happened!" Meagan gasped. Elizabeth hugged Corwin tight. "Corwin fell from the tree he was climbing at the park and broke his arm. He'll have to keep the cast on for awhile but the doctor said that it was a clean break and should heal well." Meagan put her hand on Corwin's good arm. "I'm sorry," she said, "will we still make bread?" Elizabeth looked at Michael over Corwin's head, "That depends on how Corwin feels, honey." Corwin sighed, "I think I'll be okay but I'm just gonna sit in the armchair and supervise."

Everyone helped Corwin get settled in an armchair in a corner of the kitchen. They made the dough for the bread and set it aside to rise. Meagan showed Corwin the cards she had made. "Hey, that's neat," her brother said, "I think I'll make a card for Gwennie and the baby later too. But right now I'd like to take my medicine and lay down." Corwin went to his bedroom. Michael and Elizabeth were both doing other things while they waited for the bread to rise. Meagan felt all alone. She decided to make an extra special card for Corwin to help make him feel better. She used all her favorite colors. She took her time and was very careful. The dough still wasn't ready to cook. Meagan looked at the timer. It was about to go off! She called her parents.

"We're coming," chuckled Michael. Meagan jumped around the kitchen shouting, "It's time! It's time!" "Hush," said her mother, "we don't want to wake up Corwin. First we have to punch down the dough and let it rise again. We'll wake up Corwin just before we're ready to cook the bread." Meagan sighed, "How much longer?" Elizabeth smiled and showed her the timer. Meagan sighed again. She had already made tons of cards. What could she do while she was waiting for the bread? She decided to make a present for the new baby and for Corwin. She went and got two jars from the recycle box. She cleaned them very carefully. She saw her father in the workshop and asked him to punch some long slots in the jars. "What are you making?" asked Michael. "I'm making a saving's jar for Corwin and one for Gwennie's new baby," said Meagan. "That's a great idea!" said Michael, "Why don't you go decorate the jars and I'll have the tops ready for you by the time you're done."

Meagan took the jars up to her room. She glued on sparkles. She used yarn. She set the jars aside to dry and went back to the workshop. Michael had just finished filing the slots smooth. Meagan took the lids up to her room. She took out her button collection. She very carefully picked out buttons to fit on the lids. She glued buttons all over the lids in a spiral design. She hid the jars away so that Corwin wouldn't see them if he came into her room. By the time she had gone back to the kitchen it was time to bake the bread. Corwin was feeling a little better. Soon the house was filled with the delicious smell of baking bread. When the loaves were done, they set them out to cool. Meagan and Corwin decorated some paper to wrap the bread in for their friends.

Soon it was Lammas. They put the bread on the altar with some real grain that someone had brought from their farm. Meagan looked for Gwennie but she didn't come. Someone told her that Gwennie was working on having her baby. While they were in Circle they asked the Lord and Lady to watch over Gwennie and her baby. When Circle was over everyone came back into the house. Michael checked the phone messages. "It is a boy!" he shouted, "Little Arthur Linden born at 6:22 PM. He weighed 6 pounds 11 ounces and was 19 1/2 inches long. Baby and parents are doing fine." Everyone was very excited. Someone mentioned taking a present by their house. Meagan asked them to wait before they left. She ran to her room and got the card and the jar she had made. She also got the card and jar she had made for Corwin. Corwin saw the jars and asked her what they were for. "Well, one is for you and one is for Arthur for being born," she said, "since he's just a baby and won't care you can pick out which one you like best." Corwin took the jar that had blue and silver buttons on the top, "This looks like the night sky. Thanks Sis, this really makes me feel better." He gave her a hug. Meagan felt warm inside. Corwin had picked the jar that she had made while thinking of him. She gave the other jar to the grownup who was going by Gwennie's house. Everyone liked her present.

Meagan yawned. She told everyone goodnight and went into her room. She got ready for bed. When she got into her bed she found a piece of paper and a shell on her pillow. The paper was from Corwin and said "Thank you for being my sister." Meagan smiled and went to sleep holding her new shell. Her cat Starweaver came in and curled up at her feet. It had been a good day.