Yeah, I woke up on Easter Sunday So sad, tears run down my face I walk to the tomb, spices in my hand My mourning echoes throughout the land.
My Savior is dead, He died on the cross On Friday evening; now the world’s at a loss Jesus is gone, He was buried in the grave Wasn’t He the Messiah? Couldn’t He Himself save?
Questions run through my mind; I question the why Why did my Lord Jesus have to die? I arrive at the tomb, hardly making a sound Then I let my spices drop to the ground, for. . .
The guards are unconscious! The stone is rolled away! Where did He go? Did they take Him away? I scout around, feeling frantic and weak And trying all the answers to seek.
I run into the tomb, feeling pressed hard And there I see an angel on guard He looks at me and says, “Do not fear. Go on your way, for Jesus is not here!
“He is risen, just as he said He would be! Now go, child of God, in faith, heed me.” I run out of the tomb, feeling swift and sure. Evil has now died; good will forever endure!
So praise the Lord! Hear the church bells ring! Out to the song of the Lord you sing! What happens next, no one can tell But God holds the future, so ring those church bells!
Ring those church bells! Ring those church bells! The good news now proclaim!
Worthy is the Lamb, worthy is the King,
So sing out and praise His name!
“Why are we going to Cloudy’s house again?” Liloy asked her father as they trekked through a tumult of grass and reeds. She clutched Comery closer to her as the ground became more treacherous. Meta Knight could see the three-story house up ahead, its shiny paint glistening in the blinding sunshine.
“Cloudy told me she and her family had a surprise for us,” he explained. “But I do not know what it is.”
“Heh, maybe she’s going to give us a scare,” Liloy giggled. Then a yelp of alarm broke from her as she nearly tripped over a large stone sitting on the ground. Meta Knight reacted quickly and caught her arm. “Are you okay?” he asked, frightened.
“I’m fine. Just a little shaken.” Liloy smiled gratefully at him. “I’ll watch my step next time.”
“I know you will.” The two shared a good laugh and then moved on, picking their way over stones and roots.
* * * * *
“Oh, oh, oh,” Sniper said in a hushed whisper as he peered through the garden lattice, his ears pricked. “Alert, alert. Everyone to your battle stations! The enemy is approaching the house.”
“Oh, Sniper,” nine-year-old Zach sighed. “Do you mean Meta Knight and Liloy?”
Sniper nodded.
“Is Comery with them?” Eloise inquired. Nika, her twin, was beside her, trying to fix a twisted streamer.
“Erm. . .” Sniper squinted against the sunlight, peering at father and daughter for a moment. Then he nodded again. “Yeah, Comery’s there. Man alive, is he ever so tiny!”
“Of course he is. He’s only a few days old,” Springtime whispered from her hiding place under the picnic table.
Sniper flashed her a knowing grin. “Mommy, when we jump out to surprise them, don’t bump your head on the underside of the table, okay?”
Arrow and Lily, two of Cloudy’s canine schoolmates, giggled.
“Now, Sniper, have a little more faith in your mother!” Springtime begged. “I know I’ve done that before, but do you have to rub it in?”
“It seems to be a bad habit,” Sniper observed. “Like, you can’t stop doing it!”
“Or maybe she likes having bruises on her noggin,” Pancake giggled.
“Oh, by the way, when is Miss Scazzarda going to get here?” Sharkell broke in, directing the question to Springtime.
“I don’t know. She said she’d be here in a few minutes,” Springtime answered. “She also mentioned she’d be bringing an old friend, but I don’t know whom she meant.”
“Shush!” Showerstorm warned, jerking his head in the direction of the pasture. “Meta Knight and Liloy are coming toward the garden! Hide, everyone, and be quiet!”
Everybody scrambled to obey orders. Cloudy crouched down inside the tire swing, her eyes wide and glistening with excitement. We’re going to scare Liloy and her father good, she thought. I can’t wait.
“Hello?” Cloudy heard Liloy call. “Where are you guys? We have arrived!”
Cloudy stifled a giggle and yelled out, “We’re in the garden! Come in!”
There a rustle of leaves and hesitant footsteps as Liloy and her father entered and looked about warily. A cake sat on a piece of cardboard on an overturned washtub, and a few balloons and streamers were strung in the branches of the old oak tree. The atmosphere was festive, cheerful. . .and suspicious.
“Um, guys?” Liloy said, fear evident in her voice. “Where are you?”
Sniper giggled to himself as he silently got up from a tall patch of weeds and, putting one foot in front of the other like an Indian, approached Liloy from behind. When he was right behind her, he opened his mouth and shouted as loudly as he could, “BOO!”
“Eeek!” Liloy shrieked, clutching her baby tightly, her muscles tensed. Even Meta Knight jumped, momentarily startled. Little Comery’s eyes flew open, his face scrunched up, and he began screaming loudly, irritated and upset at having his sleep disturbed.
“Uh-oh,” Sniper mumbled sheepishly. “I just woke the baby, didn’t I?”
“Sniper!” Springtime scolded, standing to her feet to have a serious talk with her son. Unfortunately, once again, she bumped her head on the underside of the picnic table. “Ouch!” she cried, rubbing her head. “Oh, you stupid table!” she scolded.
“Don’t worry, Mommy, you always do that,” Pancake assured her, trying to sound serious but not quite being able to restrain a smirk. Springtime’s glare shot like an arrow toward him, fire in her eyes, and Pancake relented at poking fun toward her. The other children burst into laughter at the silly scene.
“There, there, sweet boy, it’s okay,” Liloy soothingly assured the crying baby, placing him over her shoulder and patting him on the back. “Mama’s got you.”
“Wow! For a first-time mom, you seem to have a lot of confidence,” Nika said, her blue eyes shining.
“Thank you. It’s all thanks to Father and Grandmother for teaching me about how to care for a child.” Then as if noticing something was amiss, she glanced around. “Um, speaking of Grandmother, where is she anyway? Didn’t she says she would be here?”
“She went to go pick up an old friend,” Showerstorm explained, poking his head out of the garden shed door. “She’ll be here soon. Just be patient.”
As if on cue, the rumble of an engine resounded in the distance and then came the sound of brakes. “That’ll be Miss Scazzarda!” Cloudy sang out. “She’s finally arrived.”
A minute later, Scazzarda was at the garden gate, rapping on the paneled fence wood. “I’m here!” she said. “May I come in? Sorry I took so long. I had to pick up a friend.”
“Yeah, your ‘old friend,’ right?” Springtime grinned as she marched to the gate and unlatched it. When she swung back the gate, her eyes widened at the familiar girl standing beside Scazzarda. Scazzarda winked and placed a finger to her lips, making signs to be quiet. “I want to surprise the kids,” she whispered.
Springtime nodded. “Got it,” she whispered back.
The girl went through the gate and there was silence for a long moment. All the children, standing in a group, stared at the girl for a long moment, uncertain as to who she was. But Cloudy recognized her right away, though it had been a few months since she had last seen her. “Wylanda!” she cried, jumping up and down in pure joy. “It’s Wylanda Coven!”
“Cloudy!” Wylanda exclaimed, rushing forward and embracing the puppy. “It’s been a while!”
“Yes, it has!” Star agreed, licking Wylanda’s hand in fondness. “Welcome back, Wylanda!”
“Yay, it’s Wylanda!” Nika cheered, throwing her arms around the older girl’s neck. “We didn’t expect to see you!”
“I was in town checking out the rubble that’s going to be the new church,” Wylanda said. “Can you believe it? A church right here in Spring Breeze!”
“And when it’s finished, we can attend services!” Lily said, her sharp-pointed ears pricked with excitement.
Springtime waltzed in at the moment with Scazzarda. “Miss Scazzarda!” the children chorused together, delight spreading throughout the garden. They swarmed to her like ants at a picnic, hugging her and chattering and laughing all at the same time. Scazzarda fondly returned their affections.
“So what’s been cooking?” Wylanda asked when the group hugs were finished. “That is, besides Tilry’s funeral and Joseph Unswall and Miriam’s moving away and whatnot.”
Cloudy cringed. She didn’t want to be reminded of all the bad things that had occurred in the last couple of months. “Lots of things,” she said dully, then added with a huge grin, “but cake is the main one!”
“Cake?” Wylanda’s brow knit. “What do you mean? Is it someone’s birthday?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, it is. . .technically,” Cloudy said. “Liloy’s baby, Comery, was born five days ago, and so we’re celebrating his miraculous birth.”
“Oh, that’s so cute!” Wylanda said, looking across the garden at the swaddled bundle in Liloy’s arms. “But what do you mean by ‘miraculous birth?'”
Cloudy scratched her ear and gazed intently at Liloy, who had been listening to their conversation. At Cloudy’s questioning look, she nodded permissibly. “Liloy was thinking of ending her pregnancy, on March 22” she explained, “but a miracle happened and Comery was born on my birthday.”
“Our birthday,” Sniper reminded her, and his brothers and Star nodded.
“I stand corrected,” Cloudy said, giggling. Then she became somber. “But in all seriousness, yes, Comery was a brand plucked from the burning.”
“I seem to be hearing that phrase a lot,” Meta Knight called to her.
“And it’s true!” Wylanda insisted, spreading her hands as if in worship. “God saved Liloy and her baby from harm and regret! We should praise Him!”
“That’s a perfect idea!” Cloudy cried. “Why don’t we sing?”
“But what can we sing?” Zach asked, scratching his head. The other children looked at each other a moment and then shrugged. They couldn’t think of a single song that fit the happy, uplifting mood of Comery’s birthday celebration.
After much puzzling, a sparkle came into Wylanda’s eyes. Cloudy knew that look; it meant Wylanda had an idea. “What do you have up your sleeve, Wylanda?” she asked.
Wylanda leaned forward, her face lighting up with excitement. ‘A few weeks ago,” she whispered, “my aunt found out she had cancer and so she underwent a series of tests. The doctors said she would surely die. But at church the following week, hundreds of people prayed for her, and when she went back to the doctor three days later, they could find no trace of the cancer. And next Sunday, they played a special hymn called ‘Lord of the Dance’ and it was amazing! People were jumping up and down and singing and it was so amazing!”
“So we should sing ‘Lord of the Dance?'” Cloudy asked.
“Yeah! Or I can sing and you guys dance!” Wylanda clasped her hands together. “So, what do you say?”
Cloudy nodded at her friends and family, and they nodded in return. “I say let’s do it!” Zach said, and the children released a cheer that reached to the heavens.
Wylanda stood beside Scazzarda and began to sing as Springtime watched from the back corner of the garden fence. Eloise and Nika and the pups began to dance and swing about as Wylanda sang:
“I danced in the morning when the world was begun, And I danced in the moon and the stars and the sun, And I came down from heaven and I danced on the earth: At Bethlehem I had my birth.
Dance, then, wherever you may be, I am the Lord of the dance, said he, And I’ll lead you all, wherever you may be, And I’ll lead you all in the dance, said he.”
“Whoo-hoo!” Cloudy cried. “Wylanda, you rock, girl!”
“Thanks! You dance really good!” Wylanda complimented the children, and continued singing in her bright soprano.
“I danced for the scribe and the Pharisee, But they would not dance and they wouldn’t follow me; I danced for the fishermen, for James and John; They came with me and the dance went on:
Dance, then, wherever you may be, I am the Lord of the dance, said he, And I’ll lead you all, wherever you may be, And I’ll lead you all in the dance, said he.”
“Another verse! We can’t stop now!” Star panted, beginning to get a little breathless. Wylanda laughed and carried on.
“I danced on the Sabbath and I cured the lame: The holy people said it was a shame. They whipped and they stripped and they hung me on high, And they left me there on a cross to die:
Dance, then, wherever you may be, I am the Lord of the dance, said he, And I’ll lead you all, wherever you may be, And I’ll lead you all in the dance, said he.”
“More! More!” Lily begged, furiously wagging her tail in rhythm to the song.
“I danced on a Friday when the sky turned black; It’s hard to dance with the devil on your back. They buried my body and they thought I’d gone; But I am the dance, and I still go on:
They cut me down and I leapt up high; I am the life that’ll never, never die. I’ll live in you if you’ll live in me: I am the Lord of the dance, said he.
Dance, then, wherever you may be, I am the Lord of the dance, said he, And I’ll lead you all, wherever you may be, And I’ll lead you all in the dance, said he.
Yea, I’ll lead you all, wherever you may be, And I’ll lead you all in the dance, said he.”
The song ended and the puppies, twins, and Zach dropped to the ground, gasping for breath. Wylanda giggled at their fatigued forms. “Man alive, were you all having a good time! I didn’t think you would last throughout the whole song! Good job!”
“Thanks,” Cloudy said, still winded. She smiled at Meta Knight, whose eyes glowed a light green as she held his daughter’s hand. Liloy glanced down at Comery, who had been watching the dance. One finger was in his mouth as he smiled widely at the puppies, who smiled back at him. Liloy laughed. “I think Comery liked your dance,” she said.
“Thanks, Comery,” Star said. Comery cooed and grinned shyly, hiding his face in his mother’s cape. Meta Knight chuckled softly.
* * * * *
After all the cake had been consumed and the games had been played, everyone was content to lounge on the porch and watch the sun set. Cloudy, lying at the foot of the steps, smiled as she watched the fiery, molten ball slowly descend behind the treetops of the Whispy Woods. Soon, the sky was pinkish-golf, speckled with a few twinkling stars and planets. The frogs croaked and the light breezes stirred the leaves on the rosebushes. A nightingale from far away called “goodnight” to the citizens of Spring Breeze.
As if the nightingale has reminded her of something, Scazzarda said she would be right back and slipped into the house. Cloudy raised an eyebrow. “What’s she up to?” she muttered, laying her head back on her front paws.
A moment later, Scazzarda was back outside with the baby bird’s temporary home. To Cloudy’s utter astonishment, the birds were fine and plump and had beautiful plumages. The girls were a glossy brown; the males were a bright red. While they were still juvenile, they were beginning to look like adult cardinals. “Oh, my!” she breathed, unable to believe what she was seeing.
“Pretty little things, aren’t they?” Scazzarda said to no one in particular. “I almost can’t believe it myself. They’re all grown-up now, ad ready to take off on their own.”
“In other words,” Cloudy said, a faint smile beginning on her face, “they’re ready to leave the nest?”
“Yes,” Scazzarda said. One by one, she took each bird out and set them on the porch railing. They teetered for a moment and looked wonderingly at each other, as if to say, “What do we do now?”
“Fly away, little cardinals!” Star said. “It’s time you set out on your own! Go raise families and never forget how much your mother loved you!” With a little nudge of her nose to one of the males, all four birds jumped off the railing and flapped away beyond the treetops, their wings glinting in the last rays of the sun. Everyone watched them until they were out of sight.
Star sniffled and wiped her eyes. “Do you think we’ll ever see them again?” she quietly asked.
“I don’t know,” Scazzarda honestly answered. “There’s really no way to tell that. But I’m definitely sure we will see their descendants.”
“You know,” Liloy said thoughtfully, rocking Comery gently, “it’s funny how the Lord brings about His will through odd, everyday circumstances. We were expecting Tilry to live, but he died. And we were expecting the birds to die, but then they lived. And I was expecting to opt on a different path come the day after Cloudy’s birthday, but I was stopped.” She looked up to the dusty peaks of Mount Moonstem, bathed in the last glow of the sun. “Just a few more signs that God was and is watching over us all the time.”
“That He is,” Lily nodded, a smile growing on her lips.
And as the world was drenched in moonlight and the stars shone down on the citizens of Spring Breeze, Cloudy heard a strange, peaceful voice whisper in her heart:
“Wherever you go Wherever you roam I’m always here I’m always home.
When the rainclouds seize And the sun disappears Know I am the Lord I am always here.”
______
“Lord of the Dance” is a hymn written by Sydney Carter back in 1973.
Cloudy slowly rose from the hard, cold linoleum floor, her head throbbing from the blow of Liloy’s fist. Meta Knight, rooted to the spot, stood staring dumbfoundedly at the front door, his eyes glowing a fiery orange. Cloudy struggled to her feet, wobbling a little, and only then did the soldier seem to shake himself free from his trance. “Cloudburst! Are you all right?” he inquired.
“I’m fine, but Liloy. . .” The child stared up at him with wide, frightened eyes. “Is she really going to follow through with what she said?”
Meta Knight couldn’t answer her; he didn’t know himself. “She always told me,” he said, “that she believed every life was sacred and beautiful beyond what words can describe. So I don’t understand her reasoning. . . .” He sighed and placed a hand to his head. “Why would she listen to her friend’s evil words? Why?
Cloudy spoke in a slow monotone. “Sometimes grief and unresolved trauma can drown out good advice and morals, Meta Knight. Perhaps that’s Liloy’s issue.”
Meta Knight sighed. “I do not know how to get her to listen to reason,” he admitted.
Cloudy’s eyes sparkled with a strange glint. Meta Knight recognized that look. “I believe God will rescue her just in time,” she declared.
His eyes grew wide as he searched her determined face, but he did not speak.
* * * * *
That evening, Cloudy picked at her food and vaguely listened in a fog of distraction to the conversation her parents were having about what to do for their children’s upcoming birthday. Cloudy wasn’t at the dinner table; she was miles away at a cabin in Whispy Woods, her brain fixated on Liloy and her problems. She tried desperately to think of ideas of what to do for Liloy and how to get her to snap out of her depressing thoughts, out of the ominous darkness that threatened to swallow her whole.
“Cloudy, what do you think?” Springtime asked.
Cloudy snapped out of her reverie and stared at her mother. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you. What did you say?”
“I asked, what do you think would be better for the party? To have a chocolate cake or a strawberry one?”
“Even a carrot cake would work,” Showerstorm added.
Springtime puckered her lips and made a face. “Eew, I hate carrot cake. That’s for the rabbits!”
“What do you mean?” Showerstorm playfully demanded. “Carrot cake is the best kind of cake there is!”
“According to your standards,” Springtime joked.
Cloudy wasn’t in the mood for kidding around. “I don’t know. Anything will work; I don’t care what kind you make. I’m not picky,” she responded, her patience with her parents thinning rapidly.
Springtime and Showerstorm traded glances. “Honey, is something aggravating you?” she inquired. “You’re sort of snappy tonight.”
Cloudy knew talking about Liloy’s daunting plan wouldn’t collaborate well with the merry mood at the dinner table. “I’ll tell you about it after supper,” she whispered quietly in their general direction.
Springtime nodded in understanding.
* * * * *
“Liloy’s going to do what?” Springtime cried.
Cloudy and her parents were sitting on the sofa after supper, discussing what Cloudy had been so distracted by. Cloudy had tried to explain Liloy’s plan in the most discreet way possible, but judging from her mother’s horrified look and her father’s stern one, she began to wonder if her explanation had been as discreet as she had tried to make it.
“Liloy’s going to try to end her pregnancy,” Cloudy repeated.
“Why on earth?” Springtime gasped.
“I don’t know,” Cloudy said, her head sinking. “Maybe she’s too deep in her emotional stress and overwhelmed by her trauma to care much about anyone else’s opinions. Heck, she won’t even listen to her own father’s advice.”
“That’s not good,” Showerstorm said grimly. “Have you tried talking to her?”
“Yes, I did, and her response was to knock me over the head!” Cloudy gingerly reached her paw up and touched the bump on her head, wincing a little as she did so.
“Oh, dear. I’m afraid she’s too beyond hope,” Springtime said regretfully.
Cloudy was shocked. How could her mother talk that way! Didn’t she know no one was too far out of reach for God to save? “No, she isn’t!” she angrily objected. “I believe God will save her and her baby just in time! I believe that!”
Springtime took a deep breath and slowly released the air in her lungs.. “I know, dear. And. . .I’m sorry. I guess. . .I wasn’t thinking clearly. You’re right. No one is too far gone for God to reach out His hand to.”
“But what can we do to change her mind?” Showerstorm puzzled. “I mean, I suppose we could talk to her, but what difference would that make? If she won’t listen to Meta Knight, or even to our daughter, then why would she listen to us?”
“We are older than she is and have more life experience,” Springtime reminded her husband. “Perhaps she’d take our wisdom and apply it to her situation.”
“It’s worth a shot,” Showerstorm agreed, silently praising his wife for her integrity. “We’ll talk to her later tonight and let you know what she says, Cloudy.”
Cloudy nodded wordlessly, but deep down, she wondered if her parent’s effort would make any difference. Then her mind went to the baby birds―still so small and weak. They were barely growing or breathing, and even their food dish was full half the time. Cloudy darkly thought, Maybe this is a forewarning―Liloy’s baby will die, and the birds will perish. Not one of them will live to even see the sun.
* * * * *
Later that evening, Springtime and Showerstorm were tromping through Whispy Woods, searching for Liloy’s cabin. Eventually, they found it and plodded up the walkway. Then they climbed the steps of Liloy’s now-sold home and Springtime knocked on the door. There was no answer for a long time. The two spouses waited reluctantly on the doorstep, wondering if Liloy was even home or if she had gone away.
After a time, the door opened, and there stood Liloy. Her eyes were red and her face was drawn, but she worked up a tentative smile and said cheerfully, “Well, if it isn’t Springtime and Showerstorm! Won’t you come inside?”
Husband and wife took advantage of the invitation and waltzed inside. Springtime stared round at the bare bedrooms and desolate kitchen, wondering where Liloy slept at night and what she ate. Showerstorm, not wishing to be rude, seated himself on the wooden floorboards of the dining room and said in a mature tone, “Liloy, we have come to discuss something with you―something I know needs to be addressed.”
Liloy held up her hand. “If this is about me and my baby, forget it,” she said abruptly. Springtime was astounded that Liloy would be so rude! “I’ve already decided on my course of action, and nothing you two or anyone else says will change my mind. End of story.” She gestured toward the front door. “Now if that is all, I must ask you to leave. I have to finish packing so I can get to my new home tomorrow.”
Showerstorm was so startled by Liloy’s brusque declaration that he sat frozen to the spot. But then suddenly, he could move again. “Liloy, I’m not going to let you do such a terrible thing to your child!” he said roughly. “God tells us that murder is wrong! Don’t you know that? Or do you just not care?”
“I have already discussed this with Father,” Liloy said coldly. “I do not want to hear anything you have to say. I will do only what is best for my child.”
“But. . .But. . .” Springtime sputtered, seeing red, “you’re not doing what’s best for your child!”
“I said I do not want to hear this!” Liloy shouted, her face twisting with furious rage. Her eyes were flaming, her fists seemed ready to fly. Showerstorm and Springtime, their hearts pounding, edged toward the door, Liloy flailing them with her tongue. “Get out now! Get out of my house and do not ever come back!” As soon as they were on the doorstep, she slammed the door shut with a deafening bang. Springtime heard the lock click as the bolt slid into place.
Husband and wife remained on the porch for the longest time, staring at the door, wondering what in the world had gone wrong.
* * * * *
“So how did it go?” Cloudy asked as soon as her parents stepped into the house.
“It hardly went at all,” Springtime said miserably. “Liloy became furious when we tried to talk to her about her baby, and she yelled at us, ordering us out of the house. Then she slammed the door on us.” She shook her head bewilderingly. “I don’t understand. She’s never acted so rash and angry before—Lilith must have really influenced her!”
“Ohh, is there nothing we can do?” Cloudy exclaimed, stamping her foot. Springtime thought those words sounded a little familiar. “We can’t just stand around here and do nothing! A life is on the line!”
“Cloudy, I tried and tried to tell her, but she wouldn’t listen!” Showerstorm finally burst out. “There’s nothing we can do! It’s all up to the Lord now! You must understand that!”
Cloudy shrank back, the room going completely silent at her father’s frustrated outburst. The frogs croaked outside, a peaceful contrast to the tension inside the home. Cloudy stared at each of her parents in turn, thinking, Is there no way out of this horrible nightmare?
* * * * *
Scazzarda frowned at the text Springtime had sent her during the night. It said plainly, “Liloy’s about to follow through with a disastrous decision involving her baby and she needs to be stopped. She wouldn’t listen to her father, Cloudy, or us, so you’re our only option now, Scazzarda. We need your help.”
Of course I’ll help, Scazzarda thought, a rush of energy flowing through her as she jumped out of bed and began to get dressed. I’ll do whatever it takes to save my precious great-grandchild.
* * * * *
Scazzarda knocked on Liloy’s door and stepped back, expecting the door to open just as it would have on any other normal day. But it never did. And that was when Scazzarda noticed the boxes that had been gathered on the porch a couple of days ago had vanished. The truth hit her—Liloy must have already left for Mount Moonstem. It was too far away for walking; she’d have to get there by car.
Scazzarda’s face was decidedly steely as she marched through the woods, back to her house, to get her car.
* * * * *
“Cabin 204,” Scazzarda muttered to herself as she climbed out of her car and walked up the steep incline. “That’s her new address, Magnus said.” She paraded between rows and rows of cabins, mouthing their numbers, “Cabin 201, 202, 203. . .” And out loud: “Ah! Here we are! Cabin 204!” She knocked on the door and waited.
A few seconds later, Liloy was fondly, calmly greeting her grandmother, a stark contrast to the shrieking, furious girl from the night before. Scazzarda couldn’t understand her granddaughter’s shifting attitude as the young woman invited her into the cabin and bade her please be seated on a small velvet sofa, which had belonged to Tilry’s father.
“So what are you here for, Grandmother?” Liloy politely asked. “What’s going on back home?”
Scazzarda knew she had to speak out. Now was the time. “Everyone is just fine, dear, but they’re worried about you,” she calmly said. “See, Springtime alerted me last night about what happened between you and she and her husband, and well, I just came out here to. . .” She broke off as she noticed Liloy staring at the wall, a faraway expression in her sad eyes.
“So they sent you to try to talk me into changing my mind, huh?” Liloy said.
Scazzarda sighed, knowing she couldn’t hide the truth. “Yes,” she confessed.
“I see,” Liloy calmly responded.
Scazzarda rushed to her next words. “Listen, Liloy. I know you’re going through a lot, but you cannot just give up on yourself and your baby. Life is a very precious gift, Liloy, and we only have it a short time. We should live it to honor God and show His glory to all. To murder someone is to mount an attack on the One Who created and breathed life into that special person.
“There are lots of Bible verses that tell us murder is wrong. Psalm 139:13 tells us, “For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb.” That tells us that every life is created for a purpose. Everyone has intrinsic value and dignity that God created them with. Another verse is Jeremiah 1:5, which says, “Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you, before you were born, I set you apart.” This verse underscores the true fact that God has valued life from its very inception, and He has affirmed its sanctity.”
Liloy didn’t answer. Her eyes were now riveted on the floor.
“What I am saying is that you cannot do this to your child,” Scazzarda spoke gently, placing her firm hand over Liloy’s gentle one. “God gave you this baby for a reason, Liloy. He chose you to be the mother of this special life.”
Liloy stood up, drawing her hand away from Scazzarda’s. “Grandmother. . .I have to tell you about something I did,” she said quietly. “Last night, after Springtime and Showerstrom had left. . .I scheduled an appointment.” She didn’t need to say anything else; the horrified look coming into Scazzarda’s eyes told her that Scazzarda knew what she was talking about.
“Why, Liloy?” Scazzarda simply asked. She didn’t yell or get mad, but simply spoke in a soft tone. “Why?”
“I lost myself last night,” Liloy admitted. She covered her eyes with one hand. “Grandmother, I know you and many others are trying to help, but I have to do what’s best for my child. I have to do this.” She hesitated, then went on, “I know God’s laws are moral and upright, but I have to make an exception. I truly believe I have to go against my beliefs this time.”
Liloy, you don’t know what you’re saying. “When do you go?” Scazzarda braced herself for the answer.
The reply was horrific. “March 22.”
Liloy sank onto the couch and began to cry silently as Scazzarda stood up and left the cabin, tears streaming down her face as she glanced back at the snow-draped mountains. Then she got into her car, started the ignition, and drove away, never once looking back.
I just recently found out about a song by Lecrae ft. For King and Country, and it’s called “Messengers.” This song won the Grammy Award for Best Contemporary Christian Music Performance/Song at the 2015 Grammy Awards. The song is from his album “Anomaly.”
This song is amazing in that it calls us all to get to our feet and preach for Christ, and to look at our lives from a different lens and viewpoint. Time is short, but work is much. We must do what do calls us to do.
This is my first Fourth of July here on WordPress, so I’m very excited to move on with this post. Today we celebrate 250 years since the Declaration of Independence was first signed. We call ourselves the United States of America, and we celebrate the freedom of all men.
But are we truly united?
There has been a past history of violence, war, bloodshed, discrimination, superiority, and inferiority. Slave traders, emperors who have exploited their people, and soldiers who gave their lives for our freedom still remain in the timeline of our history. And even now, with the sudden popularity of abortion, racism, and LGBTQ+, it makes me wonder. . .have we ever actually gotten anywhere with our so-called unitedness? Have we actually accomplished our goal of “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness?”
Somehow, I don’t think we have.
What happened to the days of presidency, when you could not be elected unless you were a true Christian?
What happened to those who believed life was sacred and protected unborn babies from being so ruthlessly murdered?
What happened to the pastors who truly longed to protect their flocks from the evil doctrines of Satan that could potentially creep into their churches and break their congregations?
What happened to those who believed God commanded marriage to be between one man and one woman for one lifetime?
So tell me, reader. . .are we united?
The answer is no.
In no way are we united.
We are all disunited.
We have lost the true purpose and meaning of our life. . .Jesus Christ.
He gave us freedom when we were slaves to sin.
He washed us when we were stained with sin.
He loved us even when we hated Him.
So why are we being immoral and corruptible to His laws? Do our own sick pleasures and morals really mean that much to us? Just look around! Babies are being killed because no one cares for the sanctity of human life. Diseases are rapidly spreading and killing those who are involved in immoral relationships because they never cared enough to read their Bibles. Presidents and government leaders are calling good evil and evil good.
What’s happened to our nation?!
I’ll tell you.
“We the People of the United States have personally rejected Jesus as our King and care nothing for His laws or statutes. We wish to do as we feel and think and it does not matter how we hurt others or ourselves. Our only purpose in life is to enjoy today because we do not know if we will wake up alive tomorrow.”
And there you have it.
If we want to be united, we have to work together to be united, people!
Otherwise. . .
What’s the point of being the United States?
~
If we want to be united, we must serve the One Who allowed our nation to be free in the first place.
The stars in the sky shimmered as the fireflies flickered and darted back and forth among the crowd of onlookers at the July 4th party being held in the Cappy Town square. But amidst the laughter and cheery chatter from the Cappies, there was a hint of discomfort and unease. Though they were now freed from Nightmare, thanks to the Halberd crowd, some felt a strange darkness still lay over their peaceful land.
Unfortunately. . .
. . .they were more right than they knew.
~ ~ ~
On the outskirts of the town, nestled on a little house, was a large castle. A young woman with bright blond hair pulled back in a bun stood on her balcony, her thoughtful emerald-colored eyes as bright as the fireworks exploding in the sky. It was Tiffany Ebrum, now a beautiful woman of eighteen with two children and a wonderful husband. She recalled how when she was younger, at one interval, on New Year’s Eve, fireworks had been popping just like they were now. She, as a twelve-year-old child who loved marine biology and reading, had been standing beside her friend, Meta Knight, as Kirby battled Sasuke, a monster sent by Dedede to wreck the Cappies’ New Year’s party. The dark conversation that had taken place between her and the soldier still remained in her mind and made her frown:
“Meta Knight, what are you doing here?”
“I came to wish Kirby a Happy New Year. . .if he makes it to the New Year.”
Dark humor, Tiff repeated silently, replaying those two words over and over in her mind. Actually, Meta Knight wasn’t the only one to make use of deadpan delivery. Starmonia often used it too, in her everyday speeches, usually in response to Dedede’s insults or Escargoon’s teasing.
And tonight might play out the same way as it did on New Year’s many years ago, Tiff thought dryly, just not quite in the same way.
~ ~ ~
The fireworks burst into showers in the sky should have given everyone a sense of independence and happiness, but it only made the atmosphere melancholy. Mayor Len’s eyes traveled to the castle, to King Dedede’s bedroom. It was impossible to believe the king was dead, gone from cancer; it would be a long time before anyone would recover from his untimely demise that occurred last Christmas. Escargoon, the king’s sidekick, was later revealed to have given the king a strange drug sent from Night Mare Enterprises that killed him, slowly but painfully. Mayor Len remembered the many visits Dr. Yabui had made to the castle; the sleepless nights Tiff and her family had spent watching over the king; the many seizures and breathless nights he had endured alone; Meta Knight and his subordinates standing silently together, talking in low voices; the fear of death that overshadowed everyone in Cappy Town.
Hana seemed to sense her husband’s thoughts and placed her hand on his shoulder. “Dear, I know you miss the king,” se said in her soft voice. “We all do. But we tried our best to save him. And even if it didn’t work, we can rest in the fact that we tried our hardest to help him.”
“It was all Escargoon’s fault, anyway,” Chief Bookem grumbled. “Man, was I glad to run that slimy creep out of town!”
“I can’t believe he actually murdered our king!” Kawasaki chimed in.
“Do not condemn Escargoon,” Hana spoke firmly but quietly. “What right have we to cast the first stone?”
The others silently respected Hana’s judgment.
~ ~ ~
Standing in the castle courtyard, unwilling to join the in the Fourth of July fun, Meta Knight and his subordinates talked by the fountain. It felt too much like the days when Dedede was ill and needed constant attention. It seemed to the knights they could still see Dedede lying in bed, his face pale; Escargoon’s leering expression and the mask of sorrow he placed on whenever he walked into Dedede’s room. The anger they felt when Chief Bookem declared Escargoon the murderer of the king still roiled in their minds.
“The world will never be the same without our king,” Sword Knight declared in a mournful tone.
“Then again,” came a familiar youthful voice from behind some blackberry bushes, “all of us have our death receipts. When our time expires, so does our life.” The speaker was little Ivene, who, though so small, spoke mountains of wisdom. She stepped out from behind the thorny leaves and spoke. “Hurry, the night is drawing to a close. July 4th only comes once a year. Sometimes the best thing to take your mind off a difficult situation is to have fun.”
“Child, you must understand that such a suggestion is not for everyone who has gone through something traumatic,” Sword explained. “We are still suffering from the king’s death.”
“As am I,” Ivene said, her brown eyes clear in the starlight. The rush of fountain water seemed to back her words as it peacefully bubbled into its marble basin. “But death is just the doorway to eternal life, God says. Dedede knows and he accepted the truth at the end. So let’s be grateful, my friends.” And with that, she was off, disappearing into the warm night.
“Aye, p’haps she’s right,” Blade said. Sword agreed, glancing at Meta Knight, who nodded a little.
~ ~ ~
“You look very distant,” came a voice from behind Meta Knight.
Meta Knight turned in surprise to face Tiff, holding her one-year-old daughter, Pamela, fondly nicknamed Pamu. “I am all right,” he assured her, but his trembling voice betrayed his words.
Tiff stared at him with those same green eyes that had always pierced at his soul. He recalled all too well, when she was a child, when he had been in pain or was going through a hard time. . .if he had lied to her about how he was feeling, she would stare at him wit the look that spoke plainer than any words, “You’re lying. I know what you are saying is not true.”
Though she was not a little girl any longer, those eyes still nagged at him, tugged at his conscience. He looked up to the sky as another firework whistled, its pitch getting higher and higher, until it finally exploded. It seemed to him that was how he felt. One moment he would be soaring higher and higher into the sky of delight and peace, and then his dreams would expire, explode, leaving nothing behind by smoke and particles of what he had once dreamed of.
Tiff walked up to him, shifting her child to her other arm, and she reached out and grasped his hand in a quiet, “I’m here” motion. The touch wasn’t much, but it sparked something in him he hadn’t felt in a while. . .the feeling of knowing someone was always there, always caring, even if he didn’t know it. He turned and hugged her tightly, burying his face in her shoulder as she knelt down and embraced him gently. A light gust of wind swirled past, ruffling Tiff’s dress and rustling the soldier’s cape.
“You’re not alone,” she told him at last. “We all miss Dedede, but we all rejoice knowing he’s okay.”
Meta Knight looked full into her face and smiled at her, though she could not see it. She smiled back, almost as if she knew how he felt. Even little Pamu seemed to sense the joy of the moment and gurgled, “Happy!”
Both laughed and then stood up to go down and watch the rest of the fireworks show.
~ ~ ~
By the time the threesome reached the square, most of the fireworks had already been shot off. But the biggest display was yet to come, as Tiff knew from previous Independence Days. As she and Meta Knight stepped toward the middle of the square, hanging back from the huge firework which Buttercup, Chief Bookem’s wife, was to set off, little Ivene grinned widely, leaped onto the statue of Dedede which had been erected in his memory, and paraded along the base of the throne’s armrest, singing:
“Sometimes it’s hard to see what is in front of me I need a hand to pull me from the shadows No shackles on my feet, they’re just a memory I need Your strength to rise above the shallows.”
The Cappies lifted their voices and began to sing with her.
“I’ve walked through fire and weathered pain Felt emotion like a hurricane There’s gotta be a better way Hear me when I say. . .”
Tiff and her husband, Lemu, joined in with their friends. Meta Knight remained silent, watching the happy crowd.
“I was a wreck Oh, I was shattered and bruised Then You tore down the dark And Your love broke through Down on my knees ‘Cause I couldn’t be found Now I’m filled with Your peace As Your love comes down Down, down, down, down, down Down, down, down, down, down.”
Then Lemu sang solo.
“I was a broken man living in a broken land Then You arrived, a love worthy to follow I could’ve stayed in pain forever and a day Then just in time, You filled up what was hollow.”
Meta Knight furrowed his brow. That sounded too much like what he had been like before God had come along and rescued him. The thought brought a smile to his lips.
“I’ve walked through fire and weathered pain Oh, like a hurricane!
I was a wreck Oh, I was shattered and bruised Then You tore down the dark And Your love broke through Down on my knees ‘Cause I couldn’t be found Now I’m filled with Your peace As Your love comes down Down, down, down, down, down As Your love comes down Down, down, down, down, down.”
“Let’s all sing together!” Ivene cried happily.
“I was a wreck
Oh, I was shattered and bruised
Then You tore down the dark
And Your love broke through
Down on my knees
‘Cause I couldn’t be found
Now I’m filled with Your peace
As Your love comes down!”
Meta Knight couldn’t contain himself anymore. As Buttercup struck the match and lit the fuse, he knew he had to sing and celebrate. A wave of overwhelming happiness struck him head over heels and he lifted up his voice to sing with his friends and family.
“I was a wreck Oh, I was shattered and bruised Then You tore down the dark And Your love broke through Down on my knees ‘Cause I couldn’t be found Now I’m filled with Your peace As Your love comes down Down, down, down, down, down As Your love comes down Down, down, down, down, down! As Your love comes Your love comes down!”
As the huge firework exploded in a blend of red, blue, and white, everyone strongly finished out the song together:
“Down, down, down, down, down!”
“Happy Independence Day!” Ivene howled, leaping and jumping about with enthusiasm. And then Meta Knight, Tiff, and her family shared a beautiful embrace as the fireworks continued to pop around them, illuminating the warm night.
_ _ _
The song “Down” was written by Colton Dixon, Ben Glover, and Kyle Lee. All credit goes to them.
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