I have always yearned to be an author. When I was little, I loved writing books. The “books” were really just notebook papers secured together with Scotch tape and had a chapter per page. The spelling and grammar were ugly, and the stories made no sense. But to my five- or six-year-old self, they were the most awe-inspiring books on Earth.
As I got older and learned more and more about grammar and even took English, I realized how horrid my first efforts at writing books truly were. How in the world could I have even thought those insignificant, one-chapter-on-each-page books were grandiose? The first books were total bombs, and even though I took English and learned all the grammar my brain could hold, they were still pretty awful. Still one chapter per page, still taped together with flimsy Scotch tape.
Then I took to reading. I pored over mystery stories, adventure stories, fanfictions, allegories, and Christian fiction. But my greatest interest was Kirby. I decided to work in that particular area and turn a charming game into a Christian fiction manifesto. I wanted to strive hard to truly be a great author.
But the question I often ask quiz myself on is: Why do I write?
It took me a while to come up with an answer, but then I finally perceived.
The reason I write is straightforward: I love to write. I enjoy writing. I have a passion for writing. I believe God has called me to write. I am not like C.S. Lewis or Carolyn Keene, but I have my own unique style of writing.
So as long as I am alive and breathing, I will try my best to make great book(s).
I would compare myself to a husky. Not just any husky, but most importantly, the Alaskan Malamute. (I write about one of these dogs at starmonia.wordpress.com). These strong, amazing dogs are larger and more powerful than the Siberian Husky, built for pulling heavy loads over short distances. They are known for their wolf-like appearance and strong independent nature.
Alaskan Malamutes are large, powerful working dogs originally bred for hauling heavy freight across Arctic terrain. They are known for their thick double coat, which provides great insulation against extreme cold, and their muscular, sturdy build with a deep chest and strong legs designed for endurance and strength.
I guess I, like the Alaskan Malamute, can be strong-willed and stubborn at times. I wish to do what I want, ignoring the words of others how tell me how I should walk a certain path. But I am also kind, friendly, affectionate, and outgoing, and I am willing to walk with someone in their darkest time or brightest side. Just like the Alaskan Malamute.
But I am also independent. I detest being kept in the “cage” of life, always wanting to be free and accomplish my best interests in life. Sometimes I stray out of the boundaries and go too far, but God always calls me back, like the master does to the Alaskan Malamute.
God created Malamutes and humans for a purpose, and that is to glorify Him. The only difference between man and the animals is that humans are created in God’s image and have a soul. Still, both are unique and wonderfully reveal the superb handiwork of our Father.
Dana smiled at Cloudy’s astonished expression as the little puppy gazed upward at the enormous mansion. “Do you like it?” she asked.
“Oh, yes!” Cloudy breathed. “I love it!”
Dana chuckled. “I knew you would. Well, let’s get you guys inside and to your rooms.”
* * * * *
After everyone had been assigned to their rooms and they had all eaten dinner, Dana led them all to the living room. She offered the children hot chocolate and the adults tea, but Meta Knight sharply turned down the offer. Dana raised an eyebrow, wondering what his problem was, but didn’t ask. She knew it was rude to barge into other peoples’ business.
After a few minute of sitting around sipping their beverages and chatting, Dana cleared her throat. The room became oddly quiet as everyone looked at her.
“So. . .you guys said you were in a plane crash,” Dana said softly.
Springtime winced slightly at mention of the crash and Meta Knight looked away.
“Yep, we were in a plane crash,” Sniper said cheerfully.
Eloise let out a loud groan. “Sniper, why can’t you learn to be quiet for once in your lifetime?”
Springtime gave the two a shushing signal.
“Yes, we were in a terrible plane wreck,” Showerstorm confirmed, and proceeded to tell the whole story. As he related the events of the crash, Dana’s eyes got bigger and bigger and Frank looked shocked. Elena’s expression was somber and Summer’s face was a mask of terror.
When Showerstorm had finished the scary story, everyone was silent for a long time. Then Summer spoke, “That is. . .that is wild,” she said.
“You’re telling me,” Eliot added.
“That must have been scary,” Karrie whispered, her greenish-brown eyes wide.
“It was,” Springtime said miserably, “especially with the big death loss of all those people.”
Meta Knight put a hand over his visor, trying to hide the tears brimming in his eyes. Death was a touchy subject for him, especially when it came to his friends in the GSA. He didn’t understand why so many died in the world today. It wasn’t right.
“Meta Knight?” came Cloudy’s voice. “Are you okay?”
Meta Knight winced. “No,” he said. He quickly stood up. “I’ve got to go.” He walked quickly toward the front door, opened it, and went out of the front porch, slamming the door shut behind him. Cloudy sighed to herself, wishing she could help him feel better.
Springtime looked mournful. “I wish to goodness this whole day could have gone differently,” she admitted. “But if this be the Lord’s will. . .’
“. . .let it be done,” Elena finished, her blue eyes trustful. Springtime nodded in agreement.
After a few more minutes of quiet chatting, Springtime glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. “Goodness! Almost eight-thirty,” she said. “Time for you kids to get to bed.”
There were groans from the children. “Do we have to?” Miriam asked.
“I never got to bed this early!” Eloise said, “I always got to bed at ten o’clock!”
“Me too!” Nika chimed in.
Dana shook her head lightly, her blue eyes beginning to twinkle. “Oh, but you have to get up early tomorrow to get to Christ Church so you can prepare the stage, set up the microphones, memorize your lines, make costumes. . .”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!” Miriam cried, waving her hands wildly. “Prepare the stage for what? Set up the microphones for what? Memorize lines for what? Make costumes for what?”
The other children looked blank, but Cloudy grinned. “I think I know.”
“What, dear?” Springtime asked.
Cloudy shook her head. “I’ll let Miss Dana reveal the secret before I spill it. Go on, Miss Dana.”
Dana chuckled. “All right. The secret is. . .I signed all you kids up to be in our Nativity play this Christmas Eve!”
“Aha! I knew it!” Cloudy cried. “I knew that’s what we were going to be doing!”
Summer beamed at her niece. “Good for you, honey!”
The children gasped and all started talking at once. “Wow!” Sniper squealed. “I get to be a star!”
“Awesome!” Eloise said.
“Radical!” Nika shouted.
“Who gets to play which roles, though?” Cloudy asked.
Dana grinned mischievously. “You’ll find out soon enough, Cloudy.”
Cloudy nodded, smiling back.
“Okay, off to bed now!” Springtime called, shooing the kids upstairs. “Set your alarms to seven-thirty.”
The children clambered up to their rooms, chattering happily about the play and how much fun it was going to be. But Cloudy didn’t go upstairs. She just remained at the foot of the stairs, looking at the front door.
“Cloudy, dear. Go to bed.” That was Springtime.
Cloudy slowly shook her head. “Can’t I go to bed after I see Meta Knight, Mommy?”
Springtime sighed a little. “Dearie, don’t you think Meta Knight needs some alone time?”
“No.” Cloudy’s voice was stern and sharp. Springtime drew her body back slightly, surprised at her daughter’s tone. “He’s been alone for way too long already, Mommy. He’s frightened, traumatized, and he’s been in this valley for a long time, and the longer we leave him be, the worse he’ll get.”
Springtime pondered her child’s words and slowly nodded. Cloudy was right. Meta Knight needed them. “Very well. You can go to him, but don’t stay out too long.”
“Thank you.” Cloudy gave her mother a quick hug and skipped out to the porch. Glancing up at the sky, she was amazed by how many stars she saw. Blue stars, red stars, white stars, distant planets, faraway spiraling galaxies. . .and on and on. Truly the Lord is the Master Designer, she thought.
Then she heard something. It sounded like crying, soft crying. Cloudy turned her head to the right to look at the corner of the porch and saw Meta Knight leaning against the wall, his face hidden in the folds of his cape, his body trembling.
“Meta Knight?” Cloudy’s voice was soft and tentative, but sounded like a young woman’s instead of a child’s. Meta Knight gasped, raised his head out of his cape, and saw Cloudy standing a few inches away from him, her eyes solemn.
“Cloudy, what are you doing out here?” he asked, fighting to keep his voice steady.
“I came to see if you were okay,” Cloudy replied. Then she paused, almost as if wanting to say something but not quite knowing how to say it. “Meta Knight,” she said finally, her voice quiet in the dark, cold night, “why were you crying?”
Meta Knight sniffled. “Cloudy, it is not easy for you to understand my plight.”
“Maybe not, but try me.” Cloudy stood up straight, her fur shining golden in the yellow light of the lamppost across the street.
Meta Knight took a deep breath. “All right. Do you remember how I mentioned to you that I was in the GSA?”
Cloudy bobbed her head.
“I have seen the deaths of many of my friends who were in the army,” Meta Knight said. Tears gathered in his eyes, but he kept talking. “And the deaths of those in the plane crash today reminded me of the many funerals I have attended. It just sickened me to see my once-living friends just. . .lying dead in the dirt. I-I couldn’t stand it. I can’t stand it even now.” He buried his face in his hand and began sobbing bitterly.
Cloudy whimpered a little. “I thought that’s what it was.” She dropped her head. “I’m sorry, Meta Knight,” she said simply but sincerely. “I guess I didn’t truly understand how badly you felt until now. And I am very, very sorry about your friends.”
Meta Knight was crying too hard to reply, but he reached out and took her in his arms and hugged her tightly. Cloudy didn’t resist. She snuggled up to him fondly and placed a paw on his arm, whining softly under her breath. The stars shone brightly and the lamppost flickered once as if saying “Good night.”
Meta Knight’s sobs subsided after a few minutes. Soon the sounds that could be heard were the occasional crack of an icicle from far off and Meta Knight’s and Cloudy’s calm breathing.
“You know,” Meta Knight said, breaking the silence, “I don’t care what anyone else says, Cloudy. There’s something about you that sets you apart from the family. From your friends. From the rest of the world even, perhaps.”
“What do you mean?” Cloudy asked, glancing up at him and shooting him a puzzled look.
Meta Knight shrugged. “I’m not certain yet. But I’ll find the answer. I will.” He gently set her down on the porch floor.
Cloudy chuckled. “When you say it like that, Meta Knight, I know you will.” She set her head on her front paws and yawned.
“You are tired,” Meta Knight said softly.
“You are traumatized,” was Cloudy’s surprising response. Meta Knight started and stared at her. “You have suffered much in your lifetime—pain, trauma, and abuse.” The little Malamute raised her head and glanced at him, her beautiful eyes gleaming in the starlight. “But I have good news for you. You have a Friend whom you can run to if ever you need Him. That’s a promise.”
Meta Knight smiled, then leaned back against the wall, tears running down his cheeks. “Thank you, Cloudy. Thank you for your optimism.” And he gave her another hug.
Cloudy smiled gently and licked his hand, then looked to the sky. The stars, flickering brightly like fireflies on a lazy summer day, seemed to be smiling down upon them.
* * * * *
RINNNNNG!!!!!!
The shrill sound buzzed in Cloudy’s ears and rang in her head. Cloudy groaned, wondering what could be making that awful noise. She looked over at her nightstand and sighed. Of course. Her alarm clock. She reached over and hit the snooze button, then climbed out of bed.
Cloudy yawned and surveyed her temporary room. Two windows were in the room, one to the right of her bed and one to the left, and were covered with blue cotton curtains. The walls and floors were fashioned of mahogany wood. A nightstand topped with an elegant crystal lamp sat at the right side of the bed and a table with books and a cactus plant sat on the other side. A pink beanbag chair lay in one corner and a bookshelf in another. A few pictures of serene landscapes were tacked on the walls. It was a beautiful room.
Cloudy made her bed neatly, cleaned herself up well, brushed her teeth, and skipped out of the room. She made her way downstairs to the kitchen, where Dana was preparing breakfast. The woman looked up from slicing peaches and smiling at Cloudy. “Good morning, dear. Sleep well?”
“Yes, ma’am. You?”
“Yes, thank you.” Dana chuckled a little. “But my baby wouldn’t be still. He’s a lively bean.”
‘”He?’’ Cloudy repeated. “It’s a boy?”
Dana shrugged and looked at her reflection in the metal blade of the knife. “Well, I don’t know for certain. I want it to be a boy, I know, but. . .well, I-I’m not totally sure what the gender is.”
Just then, Meta Knight came into the kitchen. Dana smiled kindly at him. “Good morning, Meta Knight. Did you sleep well?”
“Sí, dormí bien. Gracias,” Meta Knight replied.
“Huh?” Cloudy asked, unable to follow his gibberish language.
“It means, “Yes, I slept well. Thank you,’” Meta Knight explained. “It’s Spanish, or should I say español?”
Cloudy giggled. “You’re funny, Meta Knight.”
“Gracias. Or is that a compliment?” Meta Knight teased. The puppy grinned in answer.
“You can speak Spanish?” Dana asked.
“Yes, quite fluently,” Meta Knight said.
Dana smoothed her skirt. “Suppose you could tell me what the Spanish word for God is.”
“It is Dios,” Meta Knight said, sounding uncomfortable and a bit puzzled.
Dana smiled. “Hay un solo Dios, y Dios es el Gobernante de toda la creación.”
Cloudy looked blank, so Dana translated it for her. Upon hearing the translation, Cloudy’s eyes lit up. “Oh, so true, Miss Dana!”
Meta Knight did not answer. He just looked at the floor.
“Is there something wrong?” Dana asked him.
Meta Knight shook his head. “No, I am okay. Muy bien.”
Dana just frowned, not looking at all like she believed Meta Knight. She turned back to the peaches and continued cutting them up, one after another. “Cloudy, would you please get the other children up and have them come down?” she requested. “Meta Knight, you can get the adults up.”
“Very well.”
“Okay,” Cloudy agreed.
The first room Cloudy went to was her brothers’, for they all shared a room. Cloudy pushed open the door and walked up to the bed. “Sniper? Sharkell? Yodi, Pancake, Waffle? Wake up, guys.”
Nothing. Only loud snoring.
“Hey, wake up!” Cloudy yelled in their faces.
All five brothers sat bolt upright in bed, their brown eyes wide and confused, Sniper’s drowsy expression settled into a frown as he glared at her. “Oh, it’s you,” he said rudely. “What do you want?”
“Miss Dana told me to wake you guys up,” Cloudy said. “It’s time for breakfast, I believe, so some down.”
All of the boys climbed out of bed except for Sniper. Sniper was still reluctant to get up. “Wake me up again in an hour,” he replied, lying down again and pulling the covers over his head.
Cloudy was beginning to get bothered by her older brother’s behavior. Gripping the edge of the blanket with her teeth, she yanked it down from Sniper’s head. “Listen here, Sniper,” she said hotly, “Miss Dana said to get you guys up and I intend on doing so, so get up right now!”
Sniper grumbled a bit, then climbed out of bed. “Fine,” he mumbled.
The rest of the children Cloudy had no trouble waking. By that times, Meta Knight had all the adults awake and downstairs. Everyone gathered in the cheerful dining room and sat around the table with its green and red tablecloth, eating cornbread, yogurt topped with peaches, and drinking glasses of fresh milk.
After breakfast was over and the dishes had been carried to the sink and washed, Dana said, “Okay, kids. My husband and I are going to take you to Christ Church to get started on the work for the play. The adults are welcome to tag along, if they like.”
“When are we going to get roles?” Waffle asked.
“Not until lunchtime,” Sniper teased.
“Not breakfast rolls, you dummy,” Waffle snapped. “Parts in the play!”
“I know that, you twit,” Sniper retorted. “I was kidding.”
“Shut up, you two,” Eloise growled.
Meta Knight stifled a laugh.
“Yes, Waffle, the roles will be announced at noon today,” Dana said. “So make sure you’re there if you want to get a part.”
Cloudy was excited. She couldn’t wait for the day to begin!
“If you do not mind, Dana,” came Meta Knight’s voice from the back of the room, “may I steal Cloudy away for an hour or so? I would like to do something with her.”
“Oh? And what’s that?” Springtime asked.
Meta Knight gave Springtime a serious look. “I am going to teach her how to swordfight.”
Springtime’s mouth dropped open. “What?! You’re nuts. She’s not old enough to handle a sword! Not at her age.”
“Better to learn now than later,” Meta Knight said, with a tone that indicated he was referring to more than just swordfighting. “What if she has to go into combat and has no way or no weapons to defend herself?”
Springtime was about to protest again, but a sharp look from her husband stopped her. “Certainly you can teach Cloudy how to swordfight,” Showerstorm graciously allowed.
“I thank you.” Meta Knight then turned toward Cloudy. “Come. We must go.”
Cloudy frowned slightly, her face a mask of both fright and amazement as she followed him out of the house. “I’m really going to learn how to fight with a sword?” she asked.
“Yes.” Meta Knight shut the front door behind him and glanced at her. “Swordfighting is a very heard skill to master, but I am confident you can do it.”
“Why would you say that?” Cloudy said. “I’m just a little girl.”
Meta Knight chuckled. “No, Cloudy. I mean, yes, you are a little girl, but you’re more than that. You’re a strong Star Warrior with a heart of gold. You’ve got courage, spirit, strength of heart.”
Cloudy’s expression remained unmoved. “Okay, if you say so.”
Meta Knight looked down at her hard, trying to deduce her thoughts. Her face gave him no clue what was going on in that little brain of hers. Did she not like being complimented? Did she not believe what he had told her?
Or is there something else that I don’t know about her? he wondered.
He nodded to himself. Yes, that must be it. That must be.
He looked up to sky, which was overcast with thick, gray clouds.
It must be. . .
* * * * *
“Are we on the right street?” Cloudy asked, turning to look behind her at the buildings that lined both sides of the icy street. Merry shoppers marched along and caroling, shouting children played about and skated on the canal.
“I do not know,” Meta Knight answered. He looked to the right and then to the left. “I do not see the ironsmith’s, so we are probably not in the right location.”
Cloudy sighed. “What time is it?”
“Eight-forty.”
Cloudy glanced idly about as they strolled along. As she walked by a young girl and her mother, the little girl waved to the puppy. Cloudy smiled and waved back.
“Merry Christmas,” the mother said to Cloudy.
“Merry Christmas,” Cloudy answered. “And God bless you.”
“You, too,” the woman said. Then she and her daughter walked off down the street.
Meta Knight was silent a long time after hearing Cloudy’s and the woman’s conversation.
“What are you thinking about, Meta Knight?” Cloudy asked.
“I do not think I understand what you meant when you said, ‘God bless you,’” Meta Knight replied.
Cloudy smiled. “’God bless you’ is another way of saying, ‘May God make you prosper.’ In other words, when people say that, they’re basically wishing you good abundance.”
Meta Knight halted and wrapped himself in his cape. “Hmmm,” was all he said.
Cloudy yawned and shook off some stray snow that had been kicked up on top of her head somehow. As she did so, a man with gray eyes and jet-black hair paraded by the two, his expression as hard as stone. Cloudy blinked, wondering she had been seeing correctly. Could that be the same mysterious guy who had talked with her and likely crashed the plane?
Cloudy knew this might be her only chance to find out. She instantly spun around and sprinted after the man, shouting, “Hey, wait a minute!”
The man stopped and looked down at Cloudy, a peeved expression on his face. “Yes?” he said.
Cloudy scowled and drew herself up to her full height. “You’re the guy that talked with me at the airport, aren’t you?”
The man just looked blank. “What?”
Cloudy frowned. Why was he playing dumb? “The airport,” she repeated. “The Leupochena airport. You spoke with me in the lounge.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the man said. “I never saw you before in my life. And I haven’t been anywhere near an airport since this May.”
Cloudy was astonished. He sounded and looked so sincere that Cloudy found herself believing him. “But I was so sure it was you,” she explained.
The man shook his head vigorously. “Not me, miss,” he said. “Perhaps you’re thinking of my twin brother, Nathaniel Osen. I’m Jacob Osen.”
“Nathaniel Osen!” Cloudy exclaimed in dismay.
Jacob shot her a searching look. “You know him?”
“A little too well,” Cloudy muttered. Then she smiled politely and extended her paw to him. “Oh, I’m sorry. I haven’t introduced myself.” She giggled. “I’m Cloudburst—Cloudy for short.”
“Nice to meet you, Cloudy,” Jacob said.
Cloudy was bent on learning more about Nathaniel. “So, um, Jacob,” she said nonchalantly, “what’s your brother like? I met him only once, so I don’t know him too well.”
Jacob shrugged. “I haven’t spoken to him in years. He was always rather loud and bossy, wanting his own way and getting angry at anyone who tried to intervene with his schemes. He’s been in and out of trouble with the law since before reaching adolescence.”
Cloudy had no idea what “reaching adolescence” meant, but she decided not to ask about it. “Then he must have been the one who crashed the plane!” she exclaimed.
Jacob looked startled. “Crashed the plane? What are you talking about?”
Cloudy told him about the wild adventure they had had yesterday. When she finished, Jacob looked horrified. “No way!” he breathed. “Are you telling me my own brother crashed the plane in an attempt to murder everybody?!”
“He did, but thank the Lord he didn’t succeed,” Cloudy said. “But my friend, Meta Knight, was deeply affected by the many deaths we witnessed.”
Jacob looked puzzled. “Who’s Meta Knight?”
Cloudy turned her head and pointed to Meta Knight standing in the street behind her and Jacob, watching them. “That’s Meta Knight. He, um, went through a lot in his life.”
“Oh,” Jacob said. He shifted his weight slightly. “Well, tell him I said I’m sorry.”
“I will,” Cloudy said. The she frowned and scratched her ear. “But I wanted to ask you—I’m still puzzled by the vision I had on the plane. I’ve never had such a thing happen to me before. What does it mean?”
“Well,” Jacob supplied, “I think you might have a gift—a very small gift—for glimpsing the future. Not that you can see a whole bunch of stuff, but that every once in a while you will have these premonitions.” He smiled. “Perhaps the Good Lord has bestowed this gift on you.”
“Amazing,” Cloudy murmured. Then she straightened up and smiled at Jacob. “Are you a Christian?” she asked.
Jacob nodded. “And let me guess—you are too.”
Cloudy grinned and bobbed her head, sending her bow tilting off-kilter. “Yes, yes, and I say it proudly! I’m proud to be a Christian!”
Jacob chuckled at her enthusiasm and stroked her ears, setting her bow back in place as she did so. “You’re sweet. I like you, Cloudy. We should be friends.”
“Sure we can be friends,” Cloudy said. Then she looked back to Meta Knight. “But I need to get over to the ironsmith’s and then over to Christ Church for the announcing of our roles in the Nativity play.”
“You mean the one they’re doing on Christmas Eve?” Jacob asked.
“Yeah. If I can get to the church on time, I’ll land a part,” Cloudy said.
“Well, good luck with your auditions,” Jacob said. “And as for the ironsmith’s, keep going straight until you come to a four-way intersection, and you go right. The first building you come to is the ironsmith’s.”
“Okay. Thanks,” Cloudy said. “See you around.”
“See you, Cloudy,” Jacob called as he walked off.
Cloudy walked back to Meta Knight and gave him Jacob’s directions to the ironsmith’s. They began walking again, she related what she had learned from Jacob about Nathaniel.
Meta Knight looked backed at Jacob’s retreating figure. “So Nathaniel and Jacob are brothers? Very interesting.”
“I’ll say!” Cloudy’s voice suddenly became subdued as she added, “Um, Meta Knight. . .Jacob also wanted me to tell you that he was sorry about everything you went through.”
Meta Knight became uncomfortably quiet. “Oh,” was all he said. Then he gestured for Cloudy to follow him. Cloudy obliged, till worried about her friend.
They had been walking for less than three minutes when Cloudy heard something not too far away, on the street opposite from them. It sounded a guitar being strummed, drums pounding wildly, and the sound of gentle. . .singing?
Cloudy stepped onto a low stone street, and before her eyes, saw an amazing sight. A small platform had been set up at the end of the street corner and two boys and a young girl were onstage. The girl was singing and the boys were playing the drums and guitar. A small crowd had gathered and was cheering and clapping.
“Veni, veni, Emmanuel
Captivum solve Israel
Qui gemit in exsilio
Privatus Dei Filio
Gaude! Gaude! Emmanuel
Nascetur pro te Israel!”
Cloudy was amazed. She recognized the song as “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel,” but the lyrics were being sung in a different language. Meta Knight was listening intently as the young girl sang. “I believe that is Latin,” he murmured.
“Can you speak Latin?” Cloudy asked.
“Only some, but the main languages I love to speak are Spanish and English.” he smiled at her. “¿Puedes entender lo que estoy diciendo?”
Cloudy’s blank look made him laugh. “I can see you don’t. But if you like, I will teach you some Spanish later.”
“I’d love to learn,” Cloudy told him.
Then the young girl began to sing in English.
“O come, O come, Emmanuel And ransom captive Israel That mourns in lonely exile here Until the Son of God appear Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel Shall come to thee, O Israel.”
Cloudy would have stayed to listen to more, but Meta Knight gently touched her shoulder. “Come, Cloudy. Let’s go. We can come back here later.”
Cloudy reluctantly went with Meta Knight to the ironsmith’s, all the while hearing the young girl sing:
“O come, Thou Rod of Jesse, free Thine own from Satan’s tyranny From depths of Hell Thy people save And give them victory o’er the grave Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel Shall come to thee, O Israel. Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel Shall come to thee, O Israel.”
* * * * *
Cloudy followed Meta Knight to a large, wide field. The thin, yellowish-white grasses of the early summer had been turned to a pale blue. Meta Knight led her onto a small dale and handed her her new sword he had purchased. It was made of rich iron and skillfully fashioned.
“Hold it in your mouth,” he told her. “You don’t have hands like I do, so you must hold it in your mouth.”
Cloudy made a face as the iron touched her tongue. “This tastes like metal feet,” she complained. “It’s gross.”
“You’re fighting with it, not eating it,” Meta Knight said drily. The he burst into a fit of laughter. “Child, you are truly unique and very funny. Okay.” He cleared his throat. “But let’s be serious.” He drew his own sword, adding as he did so, “You will learn some basic slashes. You have the right and left slashes, the sideways slash, the forward slash, and the upward and downward slashes. Never do a backward slash, as you can hit yourself in the face and severely injure yourself.”
Meta Knight demonstrated each slash and Cloudy mimicked him. “Very good,” Meta Knight said. “You have a lot of talent and skill.” Then without warning, he struck out at her, but Cloudy used a forward slash and deflected the blow.
“Good job,” Meta Knight praised her. “That was a test and you passed. The most important rule of a sword is that you always have to be ready to use it, no matter where you are. But use it wisely and carefully, not rashly.”
“I get that,” Cloudy said, then suddenly struck out at Meta Knight, staring him and knocking him backward. Stunned, he slowly sat up.
“Sorry,” Cloudy said contritely. “Did I hurt you?”
Meta Knight stared at her for the longest time, admiration lighting up his eyes. The he got to his feet. “No, you didn’t hurt me—much.” He sighed heavily. “But I’m surprised at myself. I didn’t react quickly enough to your thrust and you did to mine. I wonder what that means?”
“It means that some people have faster reflexes than others,” Cloudy joked. She could tell Meta Knight was slightly upset with himself and wanted to lighten the mood. “You’re a fine teacher, Meta Knight. Thanks for teaching me the slashes.”
“You’re welcome, but we’re not done yet,” Meta Knight said. He grinned. “You’re going to learn how to thrust in order to deflect more heavier blows. Like this.” He thrust at her and she lifted her blade and struck it against his.
“Good. Like that,” Meta Knight said. He smiled slightly. “You are a very good swordsman—or should I say swordswoman?”
Cloudy grinned in return and shrugged her shoulders. “Um, thanks.”
Meta Knight spent the next hour teaching her the basics of how to use a sword, such as cutting, parrying, blocking, redirecting, and tracking. He showed her the figure-eight walk and the right posture and stance to use when swordfighting. Cloudy enjoyed the lesson tremendously, but she loved the part when Meta Knight decided to teach her a very special maneuver, one that was amazing but difficult to master.
“Cloudy, I am now going to teach you a very tricky maneuver of swordfighting,” Meta Knight announced. “It is called the Sword Beam.”
“Sword Beam?” Cloudy repeated.
“Yes. This is how it works,’ Meta Knight said. He suddenly leaped up high into the air and drew his sword over his head. As he did, the sword began to glow a bright golden. Then Meta Knight made a downward thrust with his sword, sending out a semicircular beam that sliced right through the ground, breaking up the earth. Cloudy was forced to leap aside to avoid being hit by the beam.
After he issued the beam, Meta Knight landed on the ground again and waited until the beam had vanished. The he looked to Cloudy, who was staring at him with wide, amazed eyes. “Did you like that?” he asked.
“It was awesome and scary at the same time,” Cloudy replied. “How’d you do that?”
“Easy to say and hard to do,” Meta Knight replied. “You have to focus your spirit on your attack. When this happens, energy leaves your body and enters your sword. Thus you create the Sword Beam.”
“That’s cool,” Cloudy said, “Can I try?”
Cloudy attempted to ficus her spirit, but she couldn’t. She really had no idea how. “Meta Knight, how does this work?” she asked. “I can’t do this.”
“Focus your spirit, child.”
“But how do you do that?” Cloudy wanted to know.
Meta Knight frowned and ran his finger along the hilt of his rapier. “Focus on your attack. Imagine yourself about to so something big and terrible and you can create the Sword Beam.”
Cloudy stared at her sword, the sunlight reflecting off the bright sheen of iron. As she did so, she began to imagine herself as a great queen about to ravage and plunder a giant city of evil. She was the queen of fairness, the queen of justice, the queen of righteousness! She could do anything with the power of God inside her!
Almost against her will, Cloudy leaped up high into the air and sliced her sword in a downward motion. Immediately, a giant golden beam shot out from the blade and zoomed toward the ground, cutting right through it. Meta Knight’s eyes widened and he involuntarily jumped out of the way of the beam just before it hit the ground and sliced trough the spot where he had been standing.
Cloudy landed on the ground again, looking dazed. She stared blankly at the destroyed and scuffed earth. “What just happened?” she asked.
Meta Knight smiled. “You managed to create the Sword Beam,” he said. “Good job!”
“I did?” Cloudy acted genuinely surprised.
Meta Knight nodded affirmation. “You did indeed.” He gazed proudly at her. “I think that is enough of a lesson for today, But you did well.”
“Thanks.” Cloudy sheathed her sword and jumped into her friend’s arms. Meta Knight held her tightly against himself for some time, feeling more lonesome than ever despite the fact that he had plenty of friends now.
“Are you okay?” Cloudy asked, noting how quiet he was.
Meta Knight nodded. “Yes, I am okay. Come on. We can stop by the concert again, and then we need to get you to Christ Church. The roles for your little play will be held in less than three hours.”
Cloudy’s expression tightened ever so slightly. “Why’d you say that?”
“Say what?” Meta Knight asked, a little surprised and confused by her reaction.
“You called our play ‘little,’” Cloudy said. “But it’s not just a cute little play that we do as part of a natural tradition. We do this play to show others that the Lord Jesus is real and that He’s here among us right now ad will be forevermore. He wants to save us all. That’s why He came to be crucified.”
Meta Knight shook his head. “See, that’s what I never understood about God,” he said, a catch in his voice. “Why did He have to die from crucifixion? Wouldn’t it have been better for Him to be beaten or stoned to death? Crucifixion is awful.”
“The Bible plainly told us He would come to die from being crucified,” Cloudy stated. “Many prophets in the Bible Prophesied this. In the book of Exodus, the story of the bronze serpent—the serpent hung on the pole represented Christ hanging on a cross for us.” Cloudy nudged Meta Knight’s hand. “He had to die on the cross. If He didn’t, He would be disqualified from being the Messiah.” She smiled kindly at the knight, whose eyes were a light green hue. “He hung on a cross for you.”
“But why?” Meta Knight wondered. “I’m nobody.”
“We’re all nobodies, Meta Knight,” Cloudy said seriously. “We’re all sinners. Jesus didn’t deserve to die for us. If anything, we should have been the ones to hang on that cross. But our gracious and merciful God took out place.”
“But why?” Meta Knight asked again, his eyes filling with tears. “Why did He have to endure such a painful and horrifying death?”
Cloudy’s radiant eyes shone even brighter and a smile came over her face. “Because He loved us.”
Meta Knight shut his eyes, contemplating her answer. Could this be true? This so-called God that He didn’t believe in—could He really be real? Was all of this true?
“Come on,” Cloudy said. “We need to get back to the concert and then over to the church!”
Meta Knight absently nodded and sent her down, and she began to lope across the frozen grass. He steadily followed at a fair pace, but his mind kept turning over the four simple words Cloudy had spoken.
Because He loved us. . .
* * * * *
Cloudy approached the familiar street corner and was pleased to see the concert was still going on. What did not please her was the fact that the young girl was only going to sing one more song. Cloudy wished she could have seen the concert instead of swordfighting, but she decided to make the best of it and listen to the final song.
“This is not a Christmas song,” the young girl said seriously, “but it does teach about our trust in God and how He will defend us from evil if we call upon Him. It’s based on Psalm 91 and is called ‘Crushing Snakes,’ by David Crowder.” She gestured to one of the boys onstage and called, “Frank, your turn to sing.”
Frank stood up and took the microphone as the girl moved to the piano and began to play it while the other boy played the guitar.
“We’re not afraid Terrors of night Arrows that fly by day Ten thousand may fall but we We will remain.”
Cloudy was astonished. It really did sound like a music version of Psalm 91!
“We’re not afraid A promise of God Can never be torn away Walking on hands of angels Crushing snakes Safe under the shadow of His wings Our fortress and our strength Our fortress!”
Then the girl began to sing with him.
“We’re taking back our freedom Our battle has been won We have been liberated Back from the dead, we’ve come!
We’re taking back our freedom Our battle has been won We have been liberated Back from the dead, we’ve come!”
Cloudy grinned at Meta Knight, who had walked up beside her. “Do you recognize this song?” she whispered.
Meta Knight shook his head. “No, but I feel like I should.”
“We’re not afraid A promise of God Can never be torn away Walking on hands of angels Crushing snakes Safe under the shadow of His wings Our fortress and our strength Our fortress!
We’re taking back our freedom Our battle has been won We have been liberated Back from the dead, we’ve come!”
There was a short pause, with only the soft sound of the piano and the gentle tapping of the drums. Then the girl began to sing in a tune soft but bold.
“Do you see Him King of Heaven Champion of all creation Eyes of fire Voice of thunder Tearing through the sky in wonder Dressed in light we See Him coming On a horse that’s white like lightning Do you see Him?”
The boys began to sing with her, their hard, coarse voices in sharp contrast with her lovely soprano.
“Do you see Him King of Heaven Champion of all creation Eyes of fire Voice of thunder Tearing through the sky in wonder Dressed in light we See Him coming On a horse that’s white like lightning Do you see Him? Do you see Him?
Do you see Him King of Heaven Champion of all creation Eyes of fire Voice of thunder Tearing through the sky in wonder Dressed in light we (Piercing through the sky) See Him coming (Breaking through the darkness) On a horse that’s white like lightning Do you see Him Do you see Him?
We’re taking back our freedom Our battle has been won We have been liberated Back from the dead, we’ve come!
We’re taking back our freedom Our battle has been won We have been liberated Back from the dead, we’ve come!
Back from the dead, we’ve come!”
The crowd finished out the song together, their voices blending as one:
“Back from the dead, we’ve come!”
The crowd cheered and clapped and stamped their feet in approval, and the girl was smiling and thanking the crowd. Many crowded around the stage to drop money or toys into a small donation box the girl was holding. Then, one by one, the crowd began to trickle away from the corner. Meta Knight watched each of them go, wondering how their lives were, wondering what they were keeping inside.
“Hi.”
Startled, Meta Knight whirled to see the same young girl standing behind him. “Whoa, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” the girl apologized. “My name’s Juliana. Have we met?”
Meta Knight shook his head. “No, we have not. My name is. . .well, just call me Meta Knight.”
“Nice to meet you, Meta Knight,” Juliana said.
“Juliana!” came a woman’s shout. Standing next to the boys onstage was a young woman who looked an awful lot the young girl. “Come, honey. We don’t want to be late for your aunt’s Christmas party tonight. Help your brothers pack up this stuff and get going. We have a very long drive ahead of us.”
“Yes, Mom.” Juliana smiled at Meta Knight as she walked off. “God sees your pain, Meta Knight. But have faith, for He’ll make everything right.”
Meta Knight stared after her until she walked over to her mom, then quickly hurried away from the street corner. He was getting a little frightened, for he knew that girl understood what he was hiding inside. His outward look of inward pain had given it away.
“Meta Knight, come on! What are you doing!” Cloudy shouted. She was already far ahead of him of the street adjacent to the concert.
“Sorry. I am coming.” He hurried after her, unable to shake the vision of the girl’s words to him from his mind.
* * * * *
Cloudy threw open the sanctuary doors of Christ Church and raced past the many pews to the stage up front. Her siblings, friends, and cousins, as well as two girls whom Cloudy didn’t recognize were working on the fake stable that would house the Baby Jesus after He was born. The adults were chatting gaily and watching the children’s progress.
“Hey, everyone!” Cloudy yelled loudly enough to wake the dead. “I’m here!”
“Shh, Cloudy,” Meta Knight whispered as he ran up beside her. “Not so loud.”
“Whoops, my bad,” Cloudy said, giving Meta Knight an apologetic glance and then running over to her parents. “Hi, Mommy. Hi, Daddy. How’s the construction coming?”
“Pretty good,” said Springtime.
“But it would have gone a lot faster if you had been here working and not running around and goofing off with that blueberry dude,” Sniper piped up.
Meta Knight sharply sucked in his breath and turned away from Sniper.
Cloudy rolled her eyes.
Springtime sighed heavily. “Sniper, don’t interrupt me when I’m talking to your sister.”
“Yeah, sure. Fine,” Sniper said. He returned to his work.
Springtime cleared her throat. “Anyway, dear. Yes, the construction is going great, but pretty slow. However, we’ve got lots of time to complete it before Christmas Eve.”
Just then, Dana popped out from behind the curtain, holding a clipboard. Her eyes surveyed the children until they came to rest on Cloudy. “Hello, Cloudy,” she said. “Glad you made it. Now you can land a role in the Nativity play.”
“That’s good, Miss Dana,” Cloudy said.
Dana cleared her throat so loudly that everyone turned to look at her. “Now then, let’s get to the roles,” she said. She pointed to Star. “Star, I have chosen you to be Elizabeth.”
Star smiled. “Cool.”
“Arrow, you are Zechariah,” Dana continued.
“Awesome,” Arrow said.
“Miriam, you are Mary, and Zach you are Joseph.” Dana went on to name each child and say which role they would act in the play. Cloudy was called on last.
“Cloudy, you will be the special angel of the Lord,” Dana declared.
“What’s the special angel of the Lord?” Cloudy asked.
“This is the angel who will have a few speaking lines and then will sing a solo before the other angels sing,” Dana explained.
“Oh, very nice,” Cloudy said. She liked her role. “Angel of the Lord” had a very nice ring to it. She loved the fact that she had been singled out to be chosen to act the role of this particular angel.
“Okay, all,” Dana said. “Meet here every evening to rehearse your lines, and next week we’ll start working on your costumes. That is all. See you all later, You can go back home now. Thank you for all your hard work.”
The children began to chatter excitedly to themselves, but Cloudy walked over to Meta Knight and nuzzled his arm. “I got a part!” she said happily.
“You did. I’m very proud of you,” Meta Knight said. He gently caressed her head.
Cloudy glanced up at Meta Knight, her emerald eyes solemn. “Meta Knight,” she said, “will you come to see our play?”
Meta Knight smiled. “Of course I will,” he said. “You can bank on it.”
Cloudy grinned widely at her friend. She loved Meta Knight very much—much more than he would ever realize.
__ __ __
Note: “O Come O Come Emmanuel” lyrics are written by Aaron Shust, who is the performer and arranger of this version of “O Come, O Come Emmanuel.” The original lyrics were written by John Mason Neale in 1851, based on the medieval Latin hymn “Veni, veni, Emmanuel”. All credit goes to Aaron Shust for this song.
“Crushing Snakes” lyrics are written by David Crowder, who co-wrote this song with Ed Cash, Martin Cash, and Cole Dye. All credit goes to them for this song.
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