Hello again, readers! I have learned a lot from this Christmas story of faith and hope, and I sincerely trust you all have too.
I want to point a few things out. One, this entire story is fiction, and it centers on the Kirby cast and crew. This entire series is what we refer to as Christian fiction, meaning that one or more characters in the story are Christians and use God’s Word to solve the problem(s). And I know that not everyone who reads this series is Christian. But that is all right. I don’t expect everyone to be Christian. But what I do expect, dear readers, is that you’ll learn something valuable from each story.
But while the story is fiction, the evidence for the Bible is true and real. The Bible is the only Book that is authentic and valid and lines up with history and answers all questions about hefty topics, such as Jesus’ birth.
However, many are confused by the Bible. They ask questions such as: Does the Bible contradict itself? Who was Cain’s wife? How could Jesus die on the cross for me? If God loves us, why are we all suffering? Are angels real? What is my purpose in life?
These questions are answered by the Bible. False teachers and books (other than the Bible) can’t always be trusted. But the Bible can be because it was given by God—yes, Jesus Christ, the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End, the First and the Last. Jesus is alive, and true, and real. If He had not been born. . .if He had not died. . .if He were not a real person and did not exist, then we wouldn’t even be here. We wouldn’t be breathing.
Nathaniel’s actions in this story may bother some, as well as the outcome of his death. But what does the Bible say? Proverbs 11: 5- “The righteousness of the blameless will direct his way, but the wicked shall fall by his own wickedness.” I wanted to illustrate that truth.
God gave all a mind and a conscience. He keeps human depravity in check. He won’t let destruction run rampant. Yes, there are many evils in the world, we all admit. There are drunkards, murderers, rapists, and thieves. There are slave traders, those who abuse power, and even those who exploit their own people. But if God were not keeping our depravity in check, we would all be lying in our caskets at this very moment.
By God’s grace, we are alive. By the Lord’s mercy, we aren’t struck dead by His hand, though we have every right to be condemned and die. We all have a choice to accept Him as our Lord. And if a true Christian truly accepts God in his heart, he will never regret his decision.
The Romans Road of Salvation gives us three things we can do to be saved.
A—Acknowledge: Acknowledge that you are a sinner in need of salvation and that you need Christ. You are not independent from God; you need God and learn from God. Without Him, you are spiritually dead.
B—Believe: Believe that Jesus died on the cross to save you and He was buried and rose again the third day out of that grave for YOU! Jesus conquered death and reigns on His throne in heaven.
C—Confess: Confess your sins to Him and ask for forgiveness. Beg Him to enter into your heart and be your Lord and Savior. He will govern your life the moment You ask Him to. You don’t need to pray in a fancy manner; just ask for forgiveness, confess your sins, and believe on Christ.
Dear readers, I hope you will respond to the truth of the gospel if you have not already. God loves all and wants to save all.
Scazzarda and Meta Knight slipped through the side door and took their seats in the row next to Cloudy. Cloudy’s eyes lit up and she smiled. “Is all well with you two?” she whispered.
“Yes,” Scazzarda replied. She then glanced at the pastor. “What is the pastor preaching from? What book?”
“Isaiah,” Cloudy replied.
True to Cloudy’s word, the pastor was indeed preaching from the book of Isaiah, from Chapter 7. “In Chapter 7, we’re talking about how the Lord promised to send a Redeemer to gather together His scattered flock, the nation of Israel,” the pastor said. “Here it says in verses 13-15, ‘Then Isaiah said, “Listen well, you royal family of David! Isn’t it enough to exhaust human patience? Must you exhaust the patience of my God as well? All right then, the Lord himself will give you the sign. Look! The virgin will conceive a child! She will give birth to a son and will call him Immanuel (which means God is with us).'”
The pastor cleared his throat and looked out over the congregation. “In these verses, Isaiah is accusing David’s family of wearing out the Lord’s patience. However, he gives them a hopeful sign—a sign from God. A Child will be born to a virgin and she will name Him Immanuel, which means, ‘God with us.’ Now isn’t that a wonderful promise from the Lord? Isn’t it magnificent that God sent His Son to be born and to die for us—so that we could be saved and drawn back into a wonderful, intimate relationship with the Father?”
Nearly everyone nodded vigorously. What was better than an everlasting relationship with God?
The pastor put both hands on his Bible and took a deep breath. “I’m going to ask you all a personal question right here and now, and I want you to be honest with yourself. How often do you take the story of Jesus’ birth as just another Bible story and don’t truly celebrate it with all your heart?”
Everyone in the audience cast their eyes downward. They all knew what the pastor was talking about.
“I thought so,” the pastor said. “I have done the same thing.” He looked down at his Bible resting on the pulpit. “Let me ask you another question. How many of you have doubted the wonder-working power of this Child?”
Everyone nodded.
“I have too,” the pastor said. “Thankfully, I am now learning to trust and lean on God and His power and not fear the harm of men.”
Meta Knight frowned. Harm of men? What did the pastor mean by that?
“Everyone has their own unique story,” the pastor went on. “My story is both tragic and wondrous. From the time I was a child to the time I was a young adult, I just accepted the story of Jesus as merely a story designed to bring happiness and hope to the reader, but didn’t truly believe it in my heart. I rejected most of the Bible for much of my life, though I grew up in a Christian home.” He sighed heavily. “Occasionally, I was sent to visit my uncle on holidays, Christmas included, and I always dreaded those times. My uncle would drink and get angry at me and beat me and abuse me severely, and the worst part was my parents knew nothing about this. I never told them. I was too afraid. They died never knowing what happened to me.”
Cloudy sat where she was, still as stone, hardly daring to stir or breathe. Had she heard right? The pastor was abused?
“Wow,” Miriam said grimly under her breath. “Pastor Parsons is right. Everyone does have their own unique story.”
“That’s awful,” Nika whispered.
“It’s more than awful. It’s appalling,” Eloise muttered. “How could anyone treat a young boy like that?”
The pastor was quiet, struggling to speak through his emotions. Meta Knight tensed, then closed his eyes tightly. Scazzarda noticed and she reached out her hand and took his, squeezing it gently. “It’s all right, Magnus,” she said soothingly. “It’s all right.”
Meta Knight shuddered. “Mother. . .”
“Shhh.” She hugged him to herself and he returned the affection, burying his face in her chest to hide his tears. “Oh, Magnus.”
“Mother, I can’t stand hearing about others being abused.”
“I know, son,” Scazzarda whispered. “I know.”
Cloudy watched the two, her eyes glimmering with sadness and sorrow. Meta Knight was struggling—a lot. Cloudy wanted to leap up and scream out to the whole wide world that it wasn’t fair for anyone to be abused while others lived nice, peaceful, non-abusive lifestyles. For a moment, Cloudy felt ashamed to live in such a nice home with such godly parents. Was it right for her to live in the lap of luxury while Meta Knight suffered? Meta Knight had battled in the army. He had watched his friends die. He had buried his fallen comrades. He grappled with his pain and abuse. He sought answers to his trials, only never to find them. But worst of all, he had no hope in Jesus Christ.
Meanwhile, Cloudy was living a life of peace. She wasn’t having to watch people die all the time or bury anyone. She didn’t have to worry about being abused. She had parents who were willing to supply her with answers if they could when she had any questions about life. But most of all, she had Jesus in her life.
Was all this right? Was it fair?
Cloudy had no answers. She could only hold on to the trust she had in Christ.
“I hid my pain inside for so many years,” the pastor continued, his voice cracking. “My breaking point came not long after I married my wife, June Marie. I was under stress, trying to hold myself together, and I was wrestling with my abuse. Then Junie did something I’ll never forget. She walked over to me where I was sitting on my bed and sat down beside me, then put her hand on my shoulder and asked, ‘Dave, are you okay?’ Her voice was so compassionate and gentle, I started crying. She held me as I cried onto her shoulder, and I finally poured out to her the story of my abuse and pain I had hidden for so long. She suggested I go to therapy, and I said I would. Then she looked me right in the eye and said, ‘Dave, you also need Jesus. Jesus can help you.’
“‘What can Jesus do for me? Especially after all I’ve done and been through?’ I asked bitterly.
“‘Jesus doesn’t care about our race or background,’ she replied calmly. ‘He just wants you with Him. He wants to love you like no one else ever could.'”
“So true, Junie,” Star murmured.
“Her words went unheeded for some time. Then one day, at a Christmas lights festival, I saw this amazing Nativity set, and as I gazed at the Baby Jesus, Junie’s words came back to me. Instantly, I understood what Junie had meant. I saw how perfect that Baby was and how rotten and sinful I was, and I knelt down right there, by that Nativity scene, and I asked God to save me. He did, and from that moment forward, I began to heal.”
Nika gasped. “Amazing!” she whispered.
“It jut goes to show, God can change anyone,” Cloudy said.
Scazzarda nodded in agreement. “That He can,” she declared.
The pastor’s eyes suddenly filled with tears and they began to stream down his face. He glared out at the audience, his eyes snapping sparks. Cloudy recoiled a little at his look, wondering why he looked so.
“Listen to me, people!” the pastor shouted. “Listen! We all have our own stories of faith and repentance! But there are times we lose faith! There are those in this sanctuary that have never repented, those who struggle with the pain of their past! I know so! And I want those people to know that your past does not define you and never will! You can choose to go the opposite direction of your horrible past and live rightly! You can! But it must be your choice! You must make the decision to turn away from the evils of your past! You must choose to dump all of that sin! And if you think that God cannot love you, then listen to this!”
He flipped ahead a few pages in his Bible to Isaiah 9, then began to read verses 2-7. “The people who walk in darkness will see a great light. For those who live in a land of deep darkness, a light will shine. You will enlarge the nation of Israel, and its people will rejoice. They will rejoice before you as people rejoice at the harvest and like warriors dividing the plunder. For you will break the yoke of their slavery and lift the heavy burden from their shoulders. You will break the oppressor’s rod, just as you did when you destroyed the army of Midian. The boots of the warrior and the uniforms bloodstained by war will all be burned. They will be fuel for the fire. For a child is born to us, a son is given to us. The government will rest on his shoulders. And he will be called: Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. His government and its peace will never end. He will rule with fairness and justice from the throne of his ancestor David for all eternity. The passionate commitment of the Lord of Heaven’s Armies will make this happen!”
The pastor shut his Bible and shouted out, “Listen! Did you hear that wonderful promise?! God sent His Son to die for all you filthy, rotten sinners! He did that so you could be free of your past, free of our sins, free of our chains that bind us to our old life! And all you have to do is believe that with all your heart and mind and body and soul and you will be saved!”
“That’s right; amen!” Cloudy shouted.
“Amen!” several people echoed.
The pastor sniffled and wiped his eyes, then said, “I’m going to throw out an altar call. If you wish to be saved, come to the front. Our ushers will pray with you.”
Instantly, several men, women, and children got out of their seats and ran up to the front, getting down on their faces before the Lord. The ushers came around to pray with them. Cloudy felt a fiery excitement welling up deep within her as she watched the ushers pray with the lost lambs of God’s flock. When they finished, those newly born Christians stood up, filled with the fire of the Holy Spirit and intense joy.
“Amen! Amen!” Cloudy yelled. Everyone stared at her in a amazemrnt, but Springtime and Showersotrm too called out, “Amen! Hallelujah!”
“Thank You, Jesus!” called Miriam.
“Thank You!” said Zach.
“We praise You!” Star called.
One by one, everybody began shouting out thanks and praises to God. The pastor, smiling even through his tears, announced, “The sermon is now ended. Let’s do the candlelight ceremony.”
The ushers passed around tiny white candles and the pastor lit his candle, which he used to light one of the usher’s candles. The usher then went to the farthest left front-row person, which was Scazzarda, and lit her candle, which she used to light Meta Knight’s candle, which he used to light Cloudy’s candle, and so on. When everyone had had their candles lit, the pastor said softly, “Let us sing, ‘Silent Night.'”
So everyone sang the sweet but uplifting melody, Meta Knight included. But as he sang, he felt no joy. Only a deep darkness pressing on his soul. The image of his pregnant daughter being beat by his drunk son flashed into his mind, overwhelming him with despair and guilt. Guilt because he failed to protect her. Guilt because she had been in severe danger, but he had left her behind anyway.
“Silent night, holy night, All is calm, all is bright Round yon virgin mother and child! Holy Infant so tender and mild, Sleep in heavenly peace, Sleep in heavenly peace.”
Meta Knight was beginning to feel ashamed, He felt like a hypocrite. He was singing this beautiful hymn of Jesus’ birth and he didn’t even believe in this Baby. As he realized that, he felt sick. Dropping his candle, he turned and sprinted out of the church. Thankfully, the candle’s flame went out as soon as it hit the carpet and didn’t set fire to the church.
No one seemed to notice he had vanished, but one child did.
“Silent night, holy night, Darkness flies, all is light; Shepherds hear the angels sing, ‘Alleluia! hail the King! Christ the Savior is born, Christ the Savior is born.'”
Cloudy grinned happily, feeling exhilarated. She was having as much fun singing as she had when she was doing the play!
“Silent night, holy night, Son of God, love’s pure light Radiant beams from Thy holy face, With the dawn of redeeming grace, Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth, Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth.”
Everyone then softly sang together with one voice, in perfect pitch and harmony so that they sounded like a chorus:
“Silent night, holy night, Wondrous star, lend the light; With the angels let us sing Alleluia to our King; Christ the Savior is born, Christ the Savior is born.”
The song ended, and the pastor said calmly, “You may blow out your candles now.”
The crowd did so. Then the pastor said, “Now we are going to sing one last worship song before we dismiss. This is Joy Williams’ song, ‘Here With Us.’ Anyone who knows this song may come up and sing it with my niece Juliana and her mother.”
Star blinked in astonishment. “Wait. Juliana is the pastor’s niece?!” she whispered to Miriam.
Miriam too was astonished. “Go figure,” she said. “That’s quite a surprise.”
Meanwhile, Cloudy was thinking over the pastor’s words. She knew which song the pastor was talking about. She had heard it on the radio a few times over the past two weeks or so, so she knew the lyrics and the tune. Before anyone else could speak up, Cloudy raised her paw high. “I’ll sing it,” she said.
The pastor smiled. “Great. Come on up and sing it with Julie and her mom,” he said.
Cloudy obediently stood and walked onstage, taking her place in front of the microphone. Juliana’s mother was seated at the piano and Juliana stood beside Cloudy, facing the audience. Cloudy felt a bit nervous, but she reminded herself that there was nothing to be anxious about.
Juliana’s mother began to play the sweet, solemn melody on the piano keys, and both Juliana and Cloudy sang:
“It’s still a mystery to me That the hands of God could be so small How tiny fingers reaching in the night Were the very hands that measured the sky.
Hallelujah, hallelujah Heaven’s love reaching down to save the world Hallelujah, hallelujah Son of God, servant King Here with us You’re here with us, mm.”
Springtime and Showerstorm smiled at their daughter’s alluring, somber tone as it drifted among each person in the audience. The crowd was captivated by the two girls’ singing. Miriam was stunned as Cloudy’s rich tone floated around the sanctuary, creating an atmosphere of peace and joy too ineffable. Scazzarda was smiling, internally thinking, Cloudy, I’m proud of you, dear.
Meanwhile, Cloudy was peering at the back of the church as she sang, and she saw Meta Knight standing by the double doors, wrapped in his cape. His eyes were a light blue hue. Cloudy’s ears perked up sharply and she smiled. Meta Knight was here! He was listening to her sing!
“It’s still a mystery to me, oh How His infant eyes have seen the dawn of time How His ears have heard an angel’s symphony But still, Mary had to rock her Savior to sleep!”
Hallelujah, hallelujah Heaven’s love reaching down to save the world Hallelujah, hallelujah Son of God, servant King Here with us You’re here with us Mm, la la la, mm, oh You’re here with us, la la la.”
There was a break in the song for a few seconds, and then Cloudy softly sang:
“Jesus, the Christ, born in Bethlehem A baby born to save, to save the souls of man!”
Juliana joined back in with her.
“Hallelujah, hallelujah Heaven’s love reaching down to save the world Hallelujah, hallelujah Son of God, servant King Here with us! Oh, hallelujah, hallelujah Heaven’s love reaching down to save the world Hallelujah, hallelujah Son of God, servant King Here with us!”
The outro came, and nearly everyone joined the two girls in singing:
“You’re here with us. You’re here with us.”
That was the end of the song. Juliana and Cloudy backed away from the microphones and bowed low, and a crash of applause startled them. The cheering and clapping and whistles became so loud that Cloudy later swore she almost went deaf. The pastor too applauded for her and Juliana, and then asked Cloudy, “What’s your name, child?”
“Cloudburst,” Cloudy said, giving her formal name.
“Everybody, give it up for Cloudburst and Juliana!” Pastor parsons yelled, and everyone whooped and shouted with delight and hailed the two girls for their wonderful singing, clapping so fiercely that the sanctuary echoed with their applause.
“Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all!” Pastor Parsons called.
“Yay! Whoo!” every person in the throng clamored, and everyone began getting up out of their seats and hugging one another and wishing one another a Merry Christmas.
Cloudy watched the merry scene with a grin on her face, her emerald eyes shining. Then she leaped off the stage and pushed through the thick multitude. As she did, she felt a tap on her back and looked full into Scazzarda’s face. “Miss Scazzarda!”
“Cloudy, I’m so proud of you!” Scazzarda said happily. “You’re a fine girl!”
“Thank you!” Cloudy answered. Then she disappeared into the crowd and sidled over to Meta Knight, who was staring at the crowd with his eyes glowing a light green.
“Meta Knight!” Cloudy shouted.
Meta Knight jumped slightly and looked at Cloudy, his eyes shifting back to their medium-yellow color. “Cloudy!”
“You heard me sing! You heard me!” Cloudy leapt on him, wagging her tail with vehement excitement. “Did you like it? What did you think of it? Tell me!”
“I believe you girls spoke a lot of truth and wisdom in that song,” Meta Knight replied. “It was rich and deep and—it—spoke something to my heart.”
“What?” Cloudy’s eyes were filled with interest.
Meta Knight slowly shook his head. “Something—but I do not know what.”
“Perhaps one day you will find the answer,” Cloudy said.
“Yes. Maybe one day.” Meta Knight looked thoughtfully at the ceiling, then down at Cloudy. “And perhaps one day I will find the answer to the mystery surrounding you.”
“Me?” Cloudy was puzzled. “How am I a mystery?”
“Your behavior and intentions are hard to deduce,” Meta Knight chuckled. He then became sober. “But there is something else about you. You possess a strange power I do not.”
“What’s that?”
“Ah, that’s the mystery,” Meta Knight said airily.
Cloudy was terribly confused, but decided not to say anything more. She would never truly understand Meta Knight and he would never truly understand her, so that made them even. And that was fine by Cloudy.
One of the ushers swung open the double doors of the church and cold air rushed inside. People began pouring outside, mingling in groups as they chatted. Without warning, a woman shrieked and jumped back as she was preparing to exit the church. A giant bird ran past her and darted into the church, running right past Nika.
Eloise’s mouth dropped open. “It’s a turkey!” she exclaimed.
Meta Knight raised an eyebrow. “A turkey in the middle of Leupochena?”
Lea gazed intently at the bird. “Leupochena’s a tiny town. There aren’t very many turkeys here, I assure you that.”
Cloudy tilted her head and gazed at the turkey, who fixed its beady eyes on her. As it moved its head, Cloudy noticed something glimmering around its neck. She squinted and peered more closely at it, and she gasped. It was a blue sapphire collar!
“The prized turkey!” Cloudy shouted. “Nika! It’s the missing turkey!”
Nika bent down and ran her finger along the smooth stones. “It’s true!”
Pastor Parsons came over to them just then. “Hey, kids. What’s all the hubbub?”
“This turkey,” Valerie said, pointing to it. “It ran into the church when the usher opened the door.”
The pastor stared at the turkey for a second, then exclaimed, “Zambene!” He scooped up the turkey and held it in his arms, and it stared at him.
“Whoa!” Cloudy exclaimed. “You mean you’re the owner of this royal turkey?!”
The pastor chuckled. “Did you children read my post?”
“We did,” said Eloise.
“Well, I want to thank you tremendously for finding my turkey.” He smiled ruefully. “Zambene must have escaped from her cage one night because I probably left the door unlocked. Smart turkey. She always could open unlocked doors. I’ll make sure to keep it locked from now on.”
“We found the turkey!” Eloise cheered, doing a neat handstand.
“Hooray for us!” Lea said.
The pastor grinned at their enthusiasm. “I really wish I could offer you a reward, but I don’t have enough trinkets for all of you. . .”
“Well, grant us a wish then,” Nika said. “Come spend Christmas with us at Vastre Hall tomorrow and bring June Marie. I want to meet her.”
“Bring Juliana too,” Cloudy chimed in.
“Deal,” Pastor Parsons said. “I will see you all at Vastre Hall tomorrow, bright and early.”
“But don’t wake us up by banging on the front door,” Star said with a giggle, handing him a key. “That’s a spare Mister Frank gave us. You can just let yourself in—without spooking anyone, that is.”
Pastor Parsons laughed. “All right.”
Cloudy and her family and friends waved goodbye to the pastor and stepped outside into the cool, crisp air. Hundreds of stars twinkled brightly in the black sky and Christmas lights from nearby buildings illuminated the worn bricks of Christ Church.
“Look!” Elena shouted, pointing toward the side of the church. An inflatable decoration of the Nativity stood there, swaying slightly in the passing breezes. For a few minutes, the churchgoers stood on or around the steps and gazed in awe at the magnificent display.
“Amazing,” Meta Knight murmured.
“Truly astounding,” Zach agreed.
“Come!” Scazzarda shouted. “Let’s get back to Vastre Hall! Everyone in the car!”
“Hey, look! It’s Mister Frank!” Lea yelled, pointing toward the red van. Sure enough, Frank’s van was parked next to it, and Frank was standing by the driver’s side door, smiling. When he saw Cloudy and her crew, he waved.
Sniper, his brothers and parents, Zach, and Arrow excitedly clambered inside the van with Scazzarda as Summer and her family jumped into the bed of the truck. Meanwhile, Cloudy and the rest of her friends climbed into the black van.
However, Meta Knight stood where he was, looking at the decoration, his eyes filled with worry. Cloudy wondered if he was still thinking about Liloy. Then she noticed that Frank was leaning against the black van, gazing at the ground, and one word flashed through her mind: Dana. She had completely forgotten about Dana in the excitement of the evening. How was she? Was her baby okay?
“Hey, guys?” Cloudy turned to her friends. “We need to pray for both Liloy and Miss Dana now!”
“Huh? Why do we need to pray for Liloy?” Nika asked.
“Because Meta Knight’s drunken son, Gregory, beat her up.” Cloudy clapped a paw over her mouth, realizing that she had unintentionally revealed one of the darkest secrets of Meta Knight’s past that she had promised him she wouldn’t tell anyone. Big mistake.
Miriam blinked. “What?!”
“His son’s drunk?!” Nika exclaimed, horrified.
“How come you never told us?” Lea asked.
Cloudy sighed, knowing she had to tell her friends the truth. “I promised Meta Knight I wouldn’t.”
“Why?” Eloise asked. “We’re your friends. You can trust us. You could have told us and we would never have breathed a word of it to anyone.”
“He struggles a lot,” Cloudy replied miserably, a torrent of words pouring out of her before she could stop herself. “He was abused, neglected, hurt, and traumatized in more ways than one. His dad is Nightmare. Yes, the Nightmare,” she emphasized, noting her friends’ stunned looks. “Nightmare beat him and injured him physically, emotionally, and mentally, and now Meta Knight cannot trust anyone.”
Miriam let out her breath. “No wonder he’s so quiet and withdrawn,” she muttered.
“But he seems to have a wonderful relationship with his mother,” Star pointed out.
“His mother was always kind and loved him immensely,” Cloudy replied. “He loves her too.”
Nika glanced out the window at Meta Knight, then at Frank. “Well. what are we waiting for?” she cried. “Let’s pray! I’ll start.”
They all bowed their heads and Nika began to pray aloud. “Dear Heavenly Father, we come before You to lift up Meta Knight and Mister Frank. We ask that You help them and that Dana and Liloy would be okay and that they would survive. . .”
RING!!
Cloudy jumped and her eyes popped open. Both Frank and Meta Knight’s phones had rung at the same time. Frank took out his phone and Meta Knight took out his, and both walked off to speak to whoever was calling.
“Uh, what’s happening?” Miriam asked.
Cloudy shook her head as if to say she had no clue.
“Perhaps the Lord is at work?” Eloise suggested, her voice filled with reverence.
“He’s always at work, Eloise,” Valerie said. “He never stops working.”
“Shh! Here comes Mister Frank!” Eloise hissed, looking out the window.
Frank walked over to the red van, opened the door, and said something to the occupants inside. Then he shut the door and walked over to the red van and swung open the door, his eyes shining.
“Mister Frank!” Valerie said. “What is it?”
Frank grinned. “Do you want to drive over to the hospital to see my son?”
Nika let out a cheer.
“Oh, goodness!” Lea exclaimed. “Your son is born?!”
“Mm-hm.” Frank nodded. “Dana’s okay and so is he. Wanna see him?”
“Yes!” Cloudy shouted.
Frank’s face then grew long. “She and the baby won’t be able to join us tomorrow, but,” he said, cheering up, “at least I know they’re okay.”
“Look!” Eloise pointed. “It’s Meta Knight!”
Meta Knight climbed into the van and sat down beside Cloudy, his eyes glowing light blue. He was trembling slightly, but Cloudy couldn’t tell if it was from excitement or anxiety.
“Meta Knight?” Cloudy said. “Are you okay?”
Meta Knight nodded. “Yes.”
“Who called you?” Star demanded, leaning forward and propping her front paws on Meta Knight’s headrest.
“It was Mother’s sister.” His voice quivered with emotion. “Liloy’s okay and she’s going to live.”
Miriam and Star traded shocked looks.
Miriam’s eyes widened. “Are—Are you serious?!”
“Yes,” the knight replied. He smiled. “I’m serious.”
Cloudy shook her head in amazement. “Now I know this was the Lord’s doing,” she said in reverence.
Meta Knight shot her a puzzled look. “Can you explain what you mean?”
Star jumped in, “We prayed that Dana and Liloy would be okay, and directly after that both your phone and Frank’s rang.”
Meta Knight gasped. “Tell me you’re joking.”
“No,” Eloise confirmed. “She’s not kidding. We’re all witnesses.”
Nika touched Meta Knight’s arm. “And Mister Frank said his son was born and that he and Dana are all right. We’re gonna drive to the hospital and see them.”
Meta Knight said nothing, but Nika felt him shaking and gave him a hug.
“Meta Knight?” Eloise asked, concerned.
“Don’t,” Cloudy broke in. “He’s just happy. Don’t bother him.”
Star threw back her head and let out a howl, causing everyone to jump. “Praise the Lord! Hallelujah! Amen! Glory to God!”
“Come, Emmanuel!” Miriam shouted. “Come and save us all!”
“Behold your King!” Cloudy yelled.
“Behold Your Messiah!” Lea called out.
“Emmanuel, God with us!” Valerie chimed in.
“Hey, all these phrases remind me of Lauren Daigle’s song, ‘Light of the World,'” Nika said. “Why don’t we sing it?”
“Excellent idea,” Frank said as he climbed into the driver’s seat and turned on the ignition. “We can sing on the way to the hospital.”
“Yippee!” Cloudy cheered.
Frank started the van and began to drive away from the church, and the red van followed. As they drove, Cloudy started off the song.
“The world waits for a miracle The heart longs for a little bit of hope O come, O come, Emmanuel! A child prays for peace on earth And she’s calling out from a sea of hurt O come, O come, Emmanuel!
And can you hear The angels singing?
Glo-o-o, o-o-ory to the Light of the world Glo-o-o, o-o-ory, the Light of the world Is here!”
“My turn!” Nika sang.
“The drought breaks with the tears of a mother A baby’s cry is the sound of love Come down, come down Emmanuel! He is the song for the suffering! He is Messiah The Prince of Peace Has come, He has come, Emmanuel!”
Then the others except for Meta Knight began to sing with Nika.
“Glo-o-o, o-o-ory to the Light of the world! Glo-o-o, o-o-ory to the Light of the world! Glo-o-o, o-o-ory to the Light of the world! Glo-o-o, o-o-ory to the Light of the world!
For all who wait For all who hunger For all who’ve prayed For all who wander
Behold your King! Behold Messiah! Emmanuel, Emmanuel!
Glo-o-o, o-o-ory to the Light of the world! Glo-o-o, o-o-ory to the Light of the world! Glo-o-o, o-o-ory to the Light of the world!
Behold your King! Behold Messiah! Emmanuel, Emmanuel!”
Then the kids softly sang together, finishing out the song:
“The world waits for a miracle The heart longs for a little bit of hope O come, O come, Emmanuel…”
* * * * *
Frank walked into Sanfern Hospital and over to the receptionist. “Hey, I’m here to see Dana Mesterein. I’m her husband,” he explained.
The woman nodded. “Room 409,” she said. Then she grinned as she saw the large crowd that was standing behind Frank. “That’s quite a group you have.”
“Yes, they’re visiting us till the New Year,” he said.
The woman chuckled. “Merry Christmas to you all!”
“Thanks!” Star answered.
Frank led them over to the elevator. Since they couldn’t all fit inside at once, he had them split into two groups and they would wait for the second group after they went to Floor 4. After the two groups were gathered together, Frank walked along the hallway and gazed at each of the room numbers until he saw Room 409. He knocked on the door and waited.
“Come in,” called a voice from inside.
Frank opened the door and entered inside, Cloudy and her relations and friends following behind. “Hey, Dana!” Frank said.
“Frank and the crew!” Dana said happily. Her face was pale and her neck was lightly bandaged, but she looked happy and healthy. “I missed you all! How was the Christmas Eve service?”
“It was great!” Cloudy burst out, and she launched into a detailed account of the happening that went on that night. It wasn’t easy since the other kids kept interrupting to add their own parts and thoughts, but Dana seemed to understand their jumble of words.
“That sounds amazing!” Dana said when they had finished. “And Cloudy, you and Juliana both performed a song together at church! I’m proud of you! I bet it was awesome!”
“It was definitely top of the Big Hits list,” Eloise playfully joked.
Dana grinned slyly at Scazzarda. “So you came through for me after all, hmmm? I knew you would.”
“I’d never let you down,” Scazzarda said.
“I know.” Dana then pointed to a little glass bed in the corner. A tiny baby was sleeping in it, tubes and wires connected to his frail body. “That’s my son. His name is Magnus Hiram Mesterein.”
“Hiram?” Scazzarda repeated. “Isn’t that the name of your father, Frank?”
“Yeah,” Frank nodded. “And Magnus is the name of. . .”
All eyes turned to Meta Knight.
“My son,” Scazzarda finished. She turned to Dana. “But why, Dana?”
Dana smiled sweetly. “Meta Knight is a wonderful father and a strong warrior. I wanted to name my child after someone I really admire and love with my whole heart. Though Meta Knight might feel like anyone couldn’t love him, this is my way of saying I do love him.”
Nika’s eyes filled with tears. “He does need to be reminded that he’s loved.”
“I’ll say this,” Cloudy strongly declared. “Everyone in this room loves you, Meta Knight. They love you with a special kind of love—agape. Jesus’ love.”
Meta Knight couldn’t speak. He felt himself tearing up as he fully realized for the first time these people he was surrounded by—they truly did love him. Not with the so-called “love” that so many used flippantly; they loved him with a love that was out of this world and infinitely better than any other kind of love—God’s love.
“Magnus?” Scazzarda said softly.
Meta Knight began to cry and Scazzarda hugged him, laughing. She felt so joyful. Her son finally understood how much he was loved, and that was what she had always wanted him to know.
“Meta Knight!” Eloise cried, running to him and embracing him. “Meta Knight, why are you crying?”
Meta Knight had to laugh at her question. “I’m just happy, Eloise. I’m happy I’m loved and accepted.”
“Of course you’re loved and accepted!” Miriam exclaimed! “Why wouldn’t you be?”
“I guess because of my past, I felt nobody could ever love me,” Meta Knight confessed.
“Nonsense,” Lea said. “We all love you and so does Jesus.”
“Thank you,” Meta Knight replied. He grinned as the other children swarmed over to him and threw their arms around him. Cloudy and her siblings stood where they were, smiling, happy that everything was now right. God had worked out everything for good, just like He had promised in His Word.
“Come on, everyone,” Frank said, yawning. “Let’s get back to Vastre Hall. It’s late and I’m bushed.”
“Okay,” said Eloise.
As the group filed out of the room, Cloudy turned around and waved a paw at Dana. “Goodbye, Miss Dana. See you.”
“See you, Cloudy,” Dana said. “Merry Christmas.”
* * * * *
By the time Cloudy and her friends arrived back at Vastre Hall, it was almost eleven. Yawning, the children stumbled out of the van into the house, heading right to bed. They were so sleepy they could barely keep their eyes open.
As Cloudy tumbled into bed, she thought, Thank You, Lord, for an amazing Christmas. I’m truly glad to have a Friend like You. Then her eyes closed and she fell asleep, dreaming of candy canes and mistletoe dancing to “Light of the World” as angels harmonized together and shepherds sang praises to God.
* * * * *
Cloudy opened one eye, then the other. It was gray outside. She sat up in bed, her eyes straying to her clock. Five-thirty in the morning. Jumping out of her bed and hurriedly making it, she raced downstairs and into the living room. The other children were already awake and sitting around the Christmas tree with Pastor Parsons, Juliana included. He was telling them the story of the Nativity in full detail and explaining that that was why they celebrated Christmas. Apparently, when he had said he would be at Vastre Hall bright and early, he meant it. Seated beside the pastor was a woman she didn’t recognize.
“Hey, Cloudy!” the unfamiliar woman said sweetly, waving to the puppy.
Cloudy stood where she was, staring at the woman. “Uh, how do you know my name?”
“Why, my husband told me all about you and so did your friends,” the woman said. “I’m June Marie.”
“Junie?!” Cloudy exclaimed.
“Yes, Junie.” Junie grinned and brushed back a stray lock of her dark-brown hair. “It’s nice to finally meet you all.”
“Junie, you’re so nice,” Star said.
“Of course. My parents said I was always a nice girl,” Junie said. “But because God loves me and is kind to me, I can do the same to others.”
Just then, the rest of the adults walked downstairs. “Hey!” Frank shouted cheerfully. “Merry Christmas, kids!”
“Merry Christmas!” Cloudy shouted in return. The rest of the children echoed her greeting.
“Let’s get to opening presents, shall we?” Scazzarda said.
“Yeah!” Eliot howled.
“Let’s do this!” Karrie hollered.
“Now I’m afraid since there are so many of you kids and adults, we could afford to get you all one gift each. Hope you like it, though, and there are more surprises throughout the day!” Frank said. “Now dig in!”
For the next few minutes, the only sound was the excited chattering of children and the rustle of tissue paper. The girls squealed with delight and the boys shouted with joy when they brought out their gifts.
“Look, I got a doll!” Nika shouted in gladness.
“I got a necklace!” Star cheered.
Cloudy drew out her gift. It was a pretty lace fichu with all kinds of different shapes of different colors embroidered into it. Amazed, she drew it around her shoulders. She wondered how could have gotten it for her. She glanced across the room and scanned every adult until her eyes fell on Meta Knight. His eyes glowed pink and she could have sworn he smiled under his mask. Cloudy couldn’t help but smile back at him. He was so kind—just like his mother.
“Merry Christmas, Clo—Whoa!” Miriam exclaimed as she spied the pretty fichu. “Who gave you that?”
Cloudy jerked her head in the direction of Meta Knight. “He did.”
“Awwww,” said Miriam. “He really loves you, doesn’t he?”
“As a friend, yes,” Cloudy replied. “And I do the same.”
“You two are so lucky to have each other as friends,” Miriam said. “Who knows? Maybe one day you and he will be traversing the world on all kinds of adventures!”
Cloudy’s brow furrowed in thought. “Yes,” she said. “Perhaps we will.”
And as Cloudy again gazed at Meta Knight, she thanked God for him—for all her friends.
__ __ __
Note: The “Silent Night” version may not be what you are accustomed to hearing (or reading), but this version was written by Joseph Mohr. He was born at Salzburg, Austria, on Dec. 11, 1792. After being ordained priest on Aug. 21, 1815, by the Roman Catholic Bishop of Salzburg, he was successively assistant at Ramsau and at Laufen; then coadjutor at Kuchl, at Golling, at Vigaun, at Adnet, and at Authering; then Vicar-Substitute at Hof and at Hintersee–all in the diocese of Salzburg. In 1828 he was appointed Vicar at Hintersee, and in 1837 at Wagrein, near St. Johann. He died at Wagrein, Dec. 4, 1848. The credit for this version goes to him.
Joy Williams, Jason Ingram, and Ben Glover wrote the song “Here With Us.” All credit goes to them.
Lauren Daigle, Paul Duncan, and Paul Mabury wrote “Light of the World.” All credit goes to them for this song.
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.
Hi, readers! I have learned an awful lot from this Thanksgiving, and I hope you all have as well.
First of all, this entire story is fiction, and it centers on the Kirby universe. This entire series is what we refer to as Christian fiction, meaning that one or more characters in the story are Christians and use God’s Word to solve the conflict(s). And I understand that not everyone who reads this series is Christian. That’s okay. I don’t expect everyone to be. But what I do expect, dear readers, is that you’ll learn something valuable from this entire series.
But while the story is fiction, the evidence for the Bible is true and real. The Bible is the only Book that is true and right and lines up with history and answers all conflicts about hefty topics, such as the resurrection.
A lot of people are confused by the Bible. They asked questions such as: Does the Bible contradict itself? Who was Cain’s wife? How could Jesus die on the cross for me? If God loves us, why are we all suffering? Are angels real? What is my purpose in life?
These questions are answered by the Bible. False teachers and books (other than the Bible) can’t always be trusted. But the Bible can be because it was given by the Creator—yes, Jesus Christ, the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End, the First and the Last. Jesus is alive, and true, and real. If He were not a real person and did not exist, then we wouldn’t even be here. We wouldn’t be breathing.
God gave us a mind and a conscience and keeps human depravity on the level. He won’t let destruction run rampant. Yes, there are many evils in the world. There are murderers, drunkards, rapists, thieves, and the whole nine yards. But if God were not keeping our depravity in check, we would all be dead.
It’s by God’s grace we’re alive. It’s by the Lord’s mercy that we aren’t struck dead by His hand. We have a choice to accept Him as our Lord. And if a true Christian truly accepts the Lord, he will never regret His decision.
The Romans Road of Salvation gives us three things we can do to be saved.
A—Acknowledge: Realize that you are a sinner in need of salvation and that you need Christ. You are not independent from God; you need God and learn from God. Without Him, you are dead spiritually.
B—Believe: Believe that Jesus died on the cross to save you and He was buried and rose again the third day for YOU! Jesus conquered death and reigns on His throne in heaven.
C—Confess: Confess your sins to Christ and ask for forgiveness. Beg Him to enter into your heart and be your Lord and Savior. He will govern your life the moment You ask Him to. You don’t need to pray a fancy way; just ask for forgiveness, confess your sins, and believe on Christ.
Dear readers, I hope you will respond to the truth of the gospel if you have not already. God loves all and wants to save all.
Cloudy hurried around the corner of her house, ignoring the temptation to stop and smell the tantalizing scent of the roses, and went to the back. There, her back to the brick wall, sat Wylanda. Her face was buried in her hands and she sat, motionless. No one else was in sight.
Cloudy started to approach Wylanda but hesitated. She had no clue how Wylanda would react after Eloise’s thoughtless words, but Cloudy couldn’t let a little thing like that stop her from helping Wylanda.
Cloudy cleared her throat. “Wylanda?”
Wylanda raised her head and glared at the puppy. “Well, what do you want? I’m not exactly in a talkative mood right now.”
“I just wanted to see how you were,” Cloudy explained.
Wylanda’s baleful look gave way to one of blankness. Slowly she put her right hand in her dress pocket and withdrew a kitchen knife. Cloudy’s eyes grew wide as saucers. Did Wylanda intend to stab her?
“What are you doing with that?” Cloudy quickly asked, backing away. She recognized the knife as one of her own family’s.
Wylanda sighed and set the knife on the ground, much to Cloudy’s relief. “I snagged it when I first arrived here and had to use the restroom.”
“Why?” Cloudy asked, bewildered.
Wylanda scowled, her face a mask of anger. “Why do I need to tell you that? You’re a little kid; you wouldn’t understand.”
Cloudy was ready with her answer. “Little kids understand a whole lot more than most think they do.”
Wylanda blinked, astonished at the reply. Then she shook her head and sighed again. “Okay, I guess I might as well tell you.” She crossed her arms. “I was going to stab myself.”
“You were going to do what?!” Cloudy gasped. Wylanda’s words sent a shock wave throughout her body. “W-Why would you ever dream of doing such an awful thing to yourself?!”
Wylanda’s dark eyes snapped. “Look, I hate my life. I hate my parents. I hate my school. And I hate you. So back off and leave me to do what I came here to do.” She reached for the knife.
Quick as a flash of lightning, Cloudy leaped forward and grabbed the knife handle in her teeth. “No,” she said sternly, shaking her head vigorously. “I can’t let you do this to yourself.”
“Oh, quit messing with me. Give me the knife.”
“No” Cloudy repeated.
“Give it to me!”
“No!”
Wylanda stood up and attempted to snatch the knife, but Cloudy backpedaled and Wylanda tripped, falling facefirst on the ground. She shook her head as she sat up, her eyes blank.
“Wylanda,” Cloudy said in a more gentle tone, “why would you want to kill yourself just because you hate everything about your life? And how can you hate everything anyway? What about your fancy belongings and everything?”
Wylanda sighed and brushed the dirt off her clothes. “Can’t you see, Cloudy?”
“See what?”
“You’re so gullible you actually fell for what I said,” Wylanda said, misery overshadowing her face. Cloudy raised an eyebrow, not understanding. “I lied, Cloudy. I don’t have jewels or live in a big mansion, nor am I rich. My parents use every cent of their savings in order to help me pay for therapy and school.”
“You lied?” Cloudy was astonished. She had never known Wylanda to admit anything like that. “But why?”
“Because I was jealous of you,” Wylanda went on. “You have a happy home, wonderful parents who love you and care for you, and good friends and an amazing school. But I, the lone jerk, didn’t want you to make fun of me because I was poor, so I pretended I had more than you did.”
Cloudy sat down and laid the knife on the ground, keeping one paw on the flat on the blade. “Wylanda, I would never have judged you. Miriam is poor too, and I don’t judge her.”
“Why not?” Wylanda asked, searching Cloudy’s eyes. “Don’t you care about having friends of your social status?”
Cloudy became angry. “Okay, you listen here, Wylanda Coven. I don’t care about my friends’ social statuses any more than I care about watering my rosebushes. All I care about is if my friends are right with God. The heart is what matters. And I’m sick of people rejecting others who are supposedly beneath them or not up to their standards. Have you not heard that God created each person equal and with tremendous value?”
Wylanda was briefly startled by Cloudy’s strong response, but relaxed and answered, “Yeah, I’ve heard it.”
“Do you believe it?” the puppy challenged.
Wylanda cast her gaze to the ground. “Well. . .I don’t. . .I don’t really know. I guess?”
“Do you think I have tremendous value in the eyes of God?”
Wylanda kept her eyes on the grass for the longest time. When she finally looked up, Cloudy saw tears in her eyes. “How can I?” she whispered. “I came from a bad family.”
“Came?” Cloudy repeated. “You mean you had a different family before your current one?”
“Mother and Father Coven are my foster parents,” Wylanda explained. “They adopted me after my parents abandoned me on the sidewalk after I was born.”
Cloudy was aghast. “W-Why on earth?”
“They didn’t want a girl.”
“Well, that’s a dumb reason to abandon a helpless baby on the sidewalk,” Cloudy exclaimed. “It’s obvious they didn’t care for you.”
“When I was two, Mother and Father Coven came to the orphanage to adopt a child because they couldn’t have children of their own,” Wylanda continued just as if Cloudy hadn’t spoken. “They fell in love with me and later adopted me, and they’ve cared for me ever since and wanted me to have the best life possible. But to me, it seems worse than my first life.”
Cloudy shook her head in distress. “Wylanda, your parents loved you enough to do that for you. Their love is the reason you’re not dead on that sidewalk right now. If you kill yourself, it will be a real blow to them.” She looked Wylanda right in the eye. “Don’t you know that?”
Wylanda looked miserable, but she nodded.
“Then how can you do this to yourself?!” Cloudy wailed. “Do you seriously want to hurt your parents the way your biological parents did to you?”
Wylanda’s face crumpled and she burst into a torrent of sobs. “I don’t know,” she sobbed. “I don’t know anything anymore. All I know is that I feel so miserable and alone.”
“That’s because you don’t have God in your life,” Cloudy insisted. “Oh, Wylanda, if you would just run to Him!”
“How can I?” Wylanda demanded. “I’m so poor and I have a terrible background! Imagine God wanting someone like me!”
“But he does want you,” Cloudy declared. “He loves you so much He died for you!”
Wylanda frowned angrily and her eyes seemed to be flaming. “I know that,” she said in disgust. “I know He died! But I don’t believe He was ever resurrected!”
“Why not?” Cloudy asked.
“Several reasons,” Wylanda said in the manner of a teacher. “One, the resurrection violates natural laws. No one can come back to life. My public school teachers even said so. It’s impossible!”
“Then how do you explain the biblical account of Jesus rising from the dead?” Cloudy demanded. “It literally say right in the Bible that Christ is alive!”
Wylanda smiled, but it seemed like a half-smile. “My teachers told me there were several theories regarding that. One is the swoon theory, in which Jesus never actually died but only fainted and later revived in the tomb. The second is the theft theory, or the fact that the disciples stole the body. And thirdly, there’s the hallucination theory, in which the disciples only imagined seeing Jesus.”
Cloudy took a deep breath and looked to the sky. She remembered her parents teaching her about these theories and giving several points to disprove each of them. She was going to have to tackle these theories one at a time.
“The swoon theory doesn’t work,” Cloudy began.
“Yeah? And why not?” Wylanda asked.
“Well, for one, if Jesus wasn’t actually dead, then why would the Roman executioners have skipped breaking His legs on the cross? Second, the Sanhedrin leaders wanted the body of Jesus taken off the cross before the Sabbath. If Jesus were not actually dead, they would not have allowed this. Third, Jesus’ tombstone was heavy and weighed as much as 4,000 pounds and was rolled into a sloped groove. Jesus would not have been able to get to the stone’s edges in order to roll it back and get out. Fourth, Jesus appeared in a healthy, glorified body with only nail scars. If He had survived the crucifixion and was not actually dead to start with, He would have been weak, bleeding, and in need of medical aid, but that’s not how we see the Bible describe Him. And finally, there are many well-known medical scholars who have disproved the swoon theory because it’s medically, historically, and logically impossible.”
Wylanda’s mouth dropped in shock as she stared at Cloudy. How could a little girl like Cloudy have provided so big a mound of evidence? “Who taught you all that?!”
“My parents!” Cloudy exclaimed.
Wylanda smoothed out her dress, lost in thought. All of Cloudy’s evidence made her public school teachers’ words seem vain and untruthful. She was beginning to wonder if perhaps Cloudy was right about the resurrection. “I’m impressed,” she said finally. “And those proofs do make the swoon theory seem less, uh, true.”
“It’s not true,” Cloudy said quietly. “God raised Jesus from the dead.”
Wylanda shrugged, not certain what to say. “Okay, then. What about the theft theory?”
“The theft theory?” Cloudy thought a few seconds before answering. “Okay, yes. The theft theory is implausible for several reasons, but I’ll only give a few because there’s too many. “One, the linen wrappings found in the tomb were neatly folded, with the head cloth folded separately from the other cloths. If the disciples had truly taken Jesus’ body, they wouldn’t have bothered to carefully remove and neatly fold the garments. Plus, the orderliness of the wrappings indicated the body vanished without being handled physically, which is a sign of resurrection and not theft. “Two, if the body had truly been stolen, why did nobody ever expose the fraud? The Jewish leaders, the Romans, or even the disciples ever admitted or recanted the lie. And besides, the disciples suffered mightily at the hands of their persecutors but were steadfast in their faith. If the disciples had truly stolen the body, they would never have endured such persecution for what they knew to be a fraud.” “Three, the body has never been found anywhere. No one has ever found credible proof of Jesus’ body. If the disciples had stolen the body, they would have hidden it somewhere, but it would have been discovered sooner or later. But that’s not the case. Those are only a few out of many proofs, but I think you’re beginning to see the problem with the theft theory.”
“Yeah, I am,” Wylanda admitted. “You know, Cloudy, your words—I actually find myself believing them. All the evidence you’re professing is so—overwhelming. I never felt like that with anything my public school teachers or friends told me.”
Cloudy grinned. “I think the Lord is working in your heart, Wylanda.” She cleared her throat and attempted to look formal. “And now for the final theory—the hallucination theory.”
“Yeah?” Wylanda looked curious. “How is that implausible?”
“The hallucination theory is implausible because, for one, group hallucinations are just weird, not to mention medically impossible. There is no documented case of a group hallucination anywhere in medical history. Over five hundred people saw the risen Christ, and I seriously doubt all five hundred saw the same hallucination. That’s just not possible, nor is it scientifically logical. “Two, if the disciples were really just hallucinating, the Romans or the Jewish leaders could have simply produced Jesus’ body and that would have been the end of it. But no, that’s not what happened. No one ever produced the body, not even when the disciples preached the resurrection messages all over Jerusalem. “Three, the transformation in the disciples also rules out the hallucination theory. They went from fearful, hiding cowards to bold witness men who preached the resurrection, even while facing persecution and martyrdom. No hallucinations could spark such bold, life-changing commitment—especially among a group who had no prior expectation of Jesus’ resurrection.”
Wylanda placed her palms together and gave Cloudy an admiring look. “You’re good,” she confessed. “You make my public school teachers look like the most uneducated individuals on this planet!”
Cloudy smiled, knowing it was a compliment. She hoped she could convince Wylanda of Jesus’ resurrection, as well as His love for her. “Are there any other reasons you don’t believe in the resurrection?” Cloudy asked.
Wylanda put her chin in her hand and thought a minute, then answered, “Yes, there are. Another reason I don’t believe—or not really believe—in the resurrection is that it goes against what I believe about the Bible.”
“Which is what?” Cloudy asked, puzzled.
“I don’t believe everything in the Bible was meant to be take literally,” Wylanda explained. “My public school teachers said we have to choose which parts make sense and which parts don’t. They said the parts we choose will vary from person to person. . .”
“But if it varies so much,” Cloudy said, “how can you ever know which parts are true and which parts aren’t if everybody has different views?”
Wylanda didn’t know how to answer. “I don’t know,” she admitted, folding her hands and looking at some dried mortar stuck on the outside of the brick wall. “I guess the more I think about it, the less sense it makes.”
Cloudy nodded understandingly. “Any more reasons you don’t believe in the resurrection, or is that it?”
“No, there’s one more, and I believe it’s the most important.” Wylanda looked Cloudy straight in the eye. “If God is truly alive, why isn’t He taking care of His creation?”
“He is,” Cloudy said, knitting her brow.
“But how can He be? There’s so much suffering and evil in the world, and I thought God loved all. If He does, then why won’t He stop the evil?”
Cloudy sighed. “This question’s been bothering you for some time, hasn’t it? I can tell.”
“Yeah, it has,” Wylanda admitted.
Cloudy frowned, suddenly looking sorrowful. “Is that why you’re so opposed to God? Because of what happened to you?”
Wylanda bit her lip and nodded. “I’m afraid so.”
Cloudy sighed and dropped her head. “Then I will answer your question as openly as possible, Wylanda. But I have never been in your shoes, so it will be hard to relate these concepts from my viewpoint, okay?”
“Okay,” Wylanda said, settling back onto the grass to listen.
“God allows evil in the world because he highly values free will and genuine love, which require the ability to choose. And that includes making the choice to do evil.”
Wylanda frowned slightly. “But God hates evil, doesn’t He?”
“Yes, and that’s why He will one day restore the heavens and earth to perfection. But we’ll get to that in a minute.” Cloudy scratched her ear with her hind leg, then went on, “God’s nature is agape love. Do you know what that is?”
Wylanda nodded. “Yes. Agape love is a selfless, sacrificial, unconditional love and is not based on feelings or personal gain. Rather, it’s a deliberate choice to seek the highest good of others even when they are unlovable or ungrateful. This divine gift is possible only through the work of the Holy Spirit.”
“Yes,” Cloudy said. “But back to your question. Since God’s nature is agape, which means it’s not coercive or controlling, God gave us the choice to choose right or wrong. He gave us free will. That includes having the freedom to either choose Him or reject Him. If God stopped evil by force, He would make us robots, forced to do what He wanted, thus overriding our free will. He would be acting against His own nature, in other words, and thus love and relationship would be impossible because they require authentic choice. God cannot force anyone to love Him, for if He did, He would not truly be loving us. “God cannot stop evil singlehandedly without violating our freedom, so instead He uses the Holy Spirit to convict others of sin and bring them to Christ. We are stewards of this world, and our choices have consequences. Those consequences affect the world, depending on if they are good or bad. “God is consistently limiting evil. Just look in the Bible. God restrained Satan in Job and confused the languages of the people at Babel when they disobeyed Him after He commanded them to spread out across the world. He also uses evil to bring about something good, such as Joseph’s betrayal by his brothers leading to salvation and Jesus’ crucifixion bringing us redemption. Romans 8:28 says, ‘And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.’ “Evil’s existence also allows for the ultimate glory of God—His justice, mercy, and great power over sin and death. Jesus’ death on the cross shows us all that God endured such suffering to defeat evil through love and sacrifice, not force. One day the universe will be restored to perfection and evil will be no more, but until that time, God is working through us all to bring light, hope, healing, and transformation to a dark world desperately in need of a wonderful Savior.”
Cloudy inhaled and then exhaled, feeling relieved, though she wasn’t at all sure why. Wylanda hadn’t said a word in all this time. She had only listened with intense rapture and fascination.
“You know,” Wylanda said after a few minutes, startling Cloudy, “Some of what you said sounded an awful lot like what Miriam told me.”
“Miriam?” Cloudy said, astonished. “You mean you talked to Miriam?”
“Yes, today before she returned to you guys and I appeared and—and started acting like a jerk,” Wylanda said, sounding ashamed. She sighed and then launched into a summary of what Miriam had told her. When she finished, Cloudy was nodding.
“What Miriam and I have told you is true,” Cloudy said. “You’ve seen the evidence for yourself, Wylanda. But now you must make a choice—will you accept the evidence and push it away to keep on living as you are right now?”
Wylanda twisted her fingers together, apparently uncomfortable, but she blurted out, “I don’t want to keep living in misery. I want happiness.”
“The only way to obtain true happiness is salvation through Christ,” Cloudy explained. “But this is a personal choice, Wylanda. If you make this commitment, you have to show you’ve made it through your actions and words. It’s not a, ‘Oh, I’m gonna make this commitment and then keep living however I want.’ No, that’s not how this commitment works. You have to show you’re saved and changed and ready to live for Jesus. And yes, others will persecute you and laugh at you for your faith, but Jesus warned us of this. He said in John 15:18–21, ‘If the world hates you, keep in mind that it hated me first.If you belonged to the world, it would love you as its own. As it is, you do not belong to the world, but I have chosen you out of the world. That is why the world hates you.Remember what I told you: “A servant is not greater than his master.” If they persecuted me, they will persecute you also. If they obeyed my teaching, they will obey yours also.They will treat you this way because of my name, for they do not know the one who sent me.’ “So remember, Wylanda, that you will face many trials and tribulations in this world, but Jesus has overcome the evils of this world and He will give you strength to face every day.”
Wylanda sat where she was, deep in thought. Her eyes were full of longing and unhappiness, but Cloudy could also see the glimmer of hope in her eyes. Her face seemed to radiate with a strange, unnatural light.
“I want to do it,” Wylanda said suddenly.
“Huh?” Cloudy asked.
“I want to accept Jesus.”
“You do?” Cloudy was astonished; she hadn’t expected her words to have such an impact on Wylanda.
“Yes,” Wylanda said firmly and without hesitation. “God provided the evidence for me, but like a fool, I pushed it away. I refused to bring myself to the feet of my Savior and Lord. But when the Lord sent you to me, He just seemed to speak to my heart more clearly than ever before. I see it all now. I was a blind fool. God is real, He is divine, He has a purpose for everything and everybody, and I know He is alive and working even to this very day. If Christ were not alive, you wouldn’t even be able to speak these wonderful words of truth to me so confidently, Cloudy!”
Cloudy was amazed. The Lord had worked a miracle right before her very eyes! “But why would you say that I wouldn’t be able to say such words of truth so confidently if Christ were not alive, Wylanda?”
“I based that off of 1 Corinthians 15:12-19. That was one of my memory verses in school,” Wylanda explained. “I can’t believe I didn’t remember this before I had this talk with you, but I just remembered. The verse says, ‘But if it is preached that Christ has been raised from the dead, how can some of you say that there is no resurrection of the dead?If there is no resurrection of the dead, then not even Christ has been raised.And if Christ has not been raised, our preaching is useless and so is your faith.More than that, we are then found to be false witnesses about God, for we have testified about God that he raised Christ from the dead. But he did not raise him if in fact the dead are not raised.For if the dead are not raised, then Christ has not been raised either.And if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile; you are still in your sins.Then those also who have fallen asleep in Christ are lost.If only for this life we have hope in Christ, we are of all people most to be pitied.’ I guess that solves the entire question: Is Jesus really alive? The answer is: Yes!”
“You’re right,” Cloudy said cheerfully. “And I’m glad you finally realized that.” A misty haze of wonder clouded her eyes. “But are you sure you want to be saved?”
“Yes.”
“This is going to be the most important choice you’ll ever make, Wylanda. Don’t take it lightly.”
“I swear I won’t. But I wish to make this choice once and for all.”
“Then I will leave you to do so. Take your time,” Cloudy said, bowing dramatically to Wylanda and then going around to the front of the house. The Covens and her parents were chatting gaily on the porch. Springtime took a chance during a break in the conversation to wave and smile to Cloudy. Cloudy waved and smiled in return.
“Where’s Wylanda?” Mrs. Coven called down to her.
“Oh, she’ll be out any minute now,” Cloudy said, winking at her mother. Springtime just gave her daughter a puzzled look. “Say, how’s the turkey coming along?”
“It should be ready in ten minutes and then the feast will start in an hour,” Springtime answered. “How are the others?”
Cloudy blanched. “I-I haven’t been back to look at them,” she said. “I was talking to Wylanda.”
“Oh, okay,” Springtime said distractedly, flipping a burger on the grill. “Well, just make sure they’re all okay when you have the time, all right?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Cloudy answered. Suddenly bored, she leaned close to one of the roses and sniffed it, then sneezed. “Oh, excuse me.”
Mrs. Coven smiled and said in a low tone to Springtime, “Cloudy is really polite. How did you raise her to be so well-mannered?”
“We prayed a lot,” Springtime said lightly. Showerstorm nodded in agreement.
While the adults were laughing, Cloudy slipped behind the hose again and almost ran into Wylanda, who was coming around to the front. But this was not the sullen, miserable, rude Wylanda. This was a changed, hopeful, happy, and kind Wylanda whose face radiated with joy and peace.
“Cloudy!” To Cloudy’s shock, Wylanda picked her up and embraced her. “Guess what? I’m Jesus’ daughter now!”
“Hooray!” Cloudy cheered, leaping about with joy. “How do you feel now?”
“Absolutely spectacular!” Wylanda said. Then she starting laughing ruefully.
“What? What’s so funny?” Cloudy wanted to know.
“I was just reminded of something that had to do with my necklace,” Wylanda said,. She grinned and fingered the porcelain rose. “In Dreamland, a rose is a symbol of gratitude, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I found it ironic that not too long ago I was ungrateful and miserable, and yet I was wearing this necklace!” She burst out laughing all over again.
Cloudy laughed too. “Speaking of that necklace,” she said, scrutinizing it, “it’s really pretty. Where’d you get it from?”
“Mother’s Coven’s sister gave it to me when I was five,” Wylanda said. A sober look came over her face. “I never forgot what she told me when she placed it into my hand for the first time.”
“And what was that?”
“She told me, ‘Dear Wylanda, always hold onto and treasure this necklace, for it is a symbol of how much you are truly blessed.’”
“Wow,” Cloudy breathed. “That’s amazing.”
Wylanda continued to look at the rose. Then she looked at the rosebushes and then at the many people who wore dresses or jewelry with roses on it. “Is that why,” she wondered, “so many of these people here are wearing roses?”
“I think so,” Cloudy said. “It’s to show they’re grateful—I guess.” She glanced meaningfully at Wylanda.
Wylanda understood the look. “I know, I know,” she sighed. “I was a jerk, and I’m very sorry. I’ll go apologize to everyone and then to my parents.”
“Do you have the knife?” Cloudy asked.
Wylanda produced it from her dress pocket. “You left it on the ground,” she said. “I picked it up to bring it back to your family.”
“Then let’s go,” Cloudy said.
“Wait,” Wylanda called to her. She unclasped the necklace and walked over to Cloudy, then placed the chain around the puppy’s neck and secured the clasp. “You have this.”
“Oh, no!” Cloudy protested, shaking her head. “Your aunt told you to hold onto it! I don’t want to take such a treasure from you.”
“I have a treasure—worth far more value than that necklace. You keep it,” she said. Then she ran off toward the tree house to apologize to Cloudy’s friends.
Cloudy watched her go with a bit of dismay. She didn’t want to take such a lovely treasure from Wylanda, but Wylanda seemed willing to give the necklace to her. “Perhaps I’d better keep it,” Cloudy said to herself.
Then she smiled. “And maybe whenever I feel ungrateful, this necklace will remind me to have a thankful heart.”
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