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Book 1: Thankful Hearts

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Chapter Seven: Count Your Blessings

 

Star yawned. “Isn’t Cloudy back from talking to that bratty girl?” she grumbled, glancing at the sky. “From the position of the sun, I’d say it’s almost five o’clock or so.”

“Aw, be patient,” Arrow said. “She’ll be here.”

Scazzarda nodded in agreement. “She’ll come when she’s ready.”

Then Star heard something. From her right came the sound of someone running, and she leaped up eagerly, expecting to see Cloudy returning. But to her consternation, it wasn’t Cloudy at all. It was Wylanda!

“Oh, no,” Sharkell muttered. “What is she doing here?”

Wylanda slowed and walked right up to the group. Star bristled and backed away from the girl, baring her fangs.

“Why are you here?” Arrow coldly asked.

To Star’s surprise, Wylanda didn’t mock or make fun of them as expected. Instead, she seemed very contrite and kind. “I know exactly why you’re acting afraid of me, and in no way do I blame you,” Wylanda said, pressing her palms together. “I just wanted to say that I regret all the mean things I’ve done to you, and I’m sorry.”

“Huh?!” Star stared, speechless, at her. This wasn’t the Wylanda they had always known!

“Whoa, talk about a drastic personality change,” Zach said to Star under his breath.

“Yeah. Since when is she so friendly and nice?” Star said to herself. She was getting suspicious, certain this was some sort of trick to win their trust.

Wylanda looked around at their stern, cold expressions and sighed. “Cloudy finally showed me the truth, and I accepted Christ,” she explained. “He’s changed me from the inside-out. I’ve made a commitment to Him, and I will never go back to my old lifestyle.”

Sniper and Sharkell looked at each other, their eyes wide. Scazzarda frowned. Wylanda seemed so sincere—but how could they trust she really had changed?

“Prove to us that you’re not the same person you were,” Nika challenged. “How do we know you’re really saved? Do we know it’s not a trick?”

“It’s not a trick,” came a familiar feminine voice from behind Wylanda. Cloudy stepped into view, the porcelain rose lightly bumping against her chest with every movement. The children seemed confused by her wearing the necklace, but made no comment.

The knight took a step back. “Cloudburst,” he breathed, but said no other words.

“Wylanda is changed,” Cloudy said firmly. “She is now a daughter of the King.”

“How wonderful!” Scazzarda said, taking Wylanda in her arms and hugging her. “I’m so happy for you, child.”

Wylanda embraced her in return. “Thank you.” Then she glanced up at Scazzarda’s bright blond hair into which was stuck the white rose. She reached up to touch one of the soft petals. “You’re wearing a rose!”

“Naturally. It’s Thanksgiving,” Scazzarda said. “And in Dreamland, the symbol of gratitude is a rose!”

“I know!” Wylanda said. “That’s kind of cool.” She scratched her head. “But I wonder why? Why a rose?”

Scazzarda put an arm across Wylanda’s shoulder. “The rose was chosen specifically because many of our Pilgrim ancestors associated the rose with Jesus.”

“What does Jesus have to do with Thanksgiving?” Star asked. “I mean, I get He brought our ancestors safely to Dreamland and all, but I don’t get. . .”

“Well, dear, let me explain,” Scazzarda said. “See, Jesus is more associated with the theme of Thanksgiving, which is gratitude. When we get saved, how should we respond to Christ for saving us?”

Star’s eyes shone as brightly as her name. “Thanksgiving!” she exclaimed. “Gratitude! Of course!”

“Exactly, my dear!” Scazzarda went on. “Anyway, these Pilgrims chose the rose because of the symbols the flower held.”

“What do you mean?” Yodi asked.

“You know how a rose can have thorns?” Scazzarda asked. Several of the children nodded. “Well, the Pilgrims associated that with the crown of thorns, or the suffering and agony Christ had to endure on the cross.”

Cloudy gasped and Star seemed intrigued.

“Most people think red is the main color of rose petals, so the Pilgrims chose that color to represent Jesus’ blood, or the cleansing of our sins.”

“Golly!” Arrow exclaimed. “I never knew any of this stuff before!”

Scazzarda gently hushed him and then continued, “And lastly, the green of the stem and leaves represents rebirth, or the renewal of our bodies and spirits in eternal life.” She looked away across the pasture and up, gesturing to the sky, and everyone looked up. What they saw made their hearts nearly skip a beat.

The sun was setting, fading behind the thick greenery of Whispy Woods. Blue, purple, and gold entwined in one marvelous spiral of color to create an unusual-looking but picturesque painting of God’s spectacular handiwork. White flamed the edges of the clouds stretching away beyond the peak of Mount Moonstem, and the edges of the usually-golden sun seemed tinged with red fire. The mountain peak was a dusky blueish-gray in the fading light.

The children were captured by the awe of it all. “Truly God’s the Master Designer of this wonderful world!” Star whispered.

“No one can ever paint such a glorious sunset as well as God can,” Cloudy said to Wylanda, who nodded her head.

“Thanks be to God,” Scazzarda murmured. “It’s by His mercy we are able to stand here before Him and admire His handiwork. It’s by His grace that we are not struck dead by His hand right now.”

“Amen,” Eloise said. Then she looked to Wylanda. “Oh, um, by the way, Wylanda, I wanted to apologize for those awful things I said to you. I didn’t mean it, really.”

“Apology accepted,” Wylanda said, then looked around at the group with a smile on her face. “So, does this mean we’re all friends now?”

“Well, of course!” Miriam said, dashing over to Wylanda. “We’re friends now!”

“Cool,” Wylanda said. “Well, what do you want to do first?”

“I think the feast will take place in forty-five minutes or so,” Eloise said, looking at her watch. “Let’s go to the house and help set up the picnic tables Mrs. Turner provided.”

Wylanda started to walk toward the house, but halted and looked back at the knight. His sun-colored eyes glared at her from beneath his mask, his body wrapped in his cape. Wylanda wanted to say how much she was sorry for insulting him, but felt too afraid to approach him. Instead, she smiled apologetically, hoping that would communicate the message. He seemed to understand what she was trying to tell him, for he kindly nodded. Feeling better, Wylanda ran off to join her friends.

Scazzarda chuckled as she watched the kids start a game of tag on their way to the house. “Magnus, what do you think of those children?”

The knight’s eyes landed on Cloudy, her green eyes sparkling in the last light of the sun, her kind smile seeming to illuminate the dark, her necklace swaying rhythmically from side to side as she darted left and right, trying to deviate the others from touching her. There was something about her that set her apart from the rest of the children, but he wasn’t sure what.

“They’re different,” was all he would say.

 

* * * * *

 

Showerstorm caught Cloudy and Star as they were trying to push two picnic tables in line with one another. “Psst,” he whispered, handing each of them a large bucket. “Go out and collect as much money as you can from the people here—that is, if they want to donate. Okay?”

“Why?” Star asked.

“Don’t ask questions. Just go.”

Star looked like she was about to argue, but Cloudy stopped her with a warning look. Star looked puzzled as the two sisters walked off together through the crowd. “Why are we doing this?” she whispered.

Cloudy gave her a surprised look. “Don’t you remember? It’s for Miriam’s mom,” she said. Then she added in a whisper, “But don’t tell them until Mommy says so.”

“Okay,” Star agreed, and the two sisters went to work collecting money.

 

* * * * *

 

Springtime smiled nervously as the people filed among the row of picnic tables and took their seats. All the tables were arranged vertically except for one in front of the house, which was arranged horizontally. That was the table at which Springtime, Showerstorm, the Covens, and the Stellarums would sit.

“It’s starting in a minute,” Miriam said to her mother. The two were standing together on the porch.

Meredith groaned and placed a hand to her forehead. “I don’t even know why you brought me out here. I don’t feel good.”

“Cloudy said her parents had a surprise for us, but wouldn’t say what it was,” Miriam said.

Cloudy rushed up the steps and stopped before mother and daughter. “Are you guys gonna join the feast?” she asked.

“Yes,” Miriam said gravely.

Meredith sighed. “Sure, I suppose so. But I’m not feeling very well.”

“That’s expected when you’re having a baby,” Cloudy said nonchalantly, her eyes roaming over the packed crowds.

Meredith started. “What did you say?”

“You’re pregnant, Mom!” Miriam cheered. “Miss Springtime said so!”

Meredith was stunned. Slowly the tears filled her eyes. “A-A baby?” she murmured.

Miriam nodded and did a pirouette.

“Okay, everyone, welcome to our Thanksgiving feast!” Springtime announced into a megaphone. “We’re pleased and proud that you would join us, and we will say grace in a few moments. But first,” she said, “we have a special surprise to present to a Mrs. Meredith Capperdale and her daughter, Miriam. Please come here.”

Meredith and Miriam looked at each other and Miriam shrugged. The two walked sedately down the steps and over to the front table.

Springtime cleared her throat and looked to her husband, who picked up the two buckets and pushed them toward Meredith. “This is to help pay off your loans,” he said in a low tone.

Meredith peered into one of the buckets and gave a sound gasp. “Good grief!” she cried out. “How much is in here?!”

“There’s just as much in the other one!” Miriam exclaimed.

Showerstorm winked at his wife and picked up a third bucket, bigger than the other two, and pushed it to Meredith. The woman’s eyes were wide. “We sent out a third recruit to gather money when Star and Cloudy got tired,” he said, casting his gaze on Nika. She smiled proudly.

“So this is for you, Meredith, and we hope you will be able to stay in this neighborhood,” Springtime concluded. She looked out toward the audience. “And I’d like to extend out warmest and sincerest thanks for all those who donated to help this family!”

There was a thunderous applause and cheers and whistles filled the air. Meredith was speechless and shocked while Miriam was amazed. The two looked to Cloudy, but she shook her head and pointed to her parents. “It was their idea,” she mouthed.

Meredith smiled warmly. “Thank you,” she said, her voice filled with emotion. “I will pay these loans back as soon as we get home.”

At the word “home,” Miriam cheered and began dancing around. Everyone laughed and smiled at the little girl.

“And now to proceed with the feast,” Springtime said once everyone had quieted down and taken their seats. “But before we do, I want to give an overview of our history and how we came to celebrate this special holiday.
“Three hundred years ago, the Pilgrims left their home in Leudon and sailed on the Moonflower to escape religious persecution in their hometown from James I,” she began. “They sailed for sixty-five days before finally reaching the place which we call Dreamland. Many died that first winter, but when spring came, Indians such as Squinto, Missosoit, and Sumosot helped them and taught the Pilgrims many things. And that first fall in the New World, they had a huge feast. That feast day became known to the world as Thanksgiving.”

Then she held up a rose, apparently snipped off one of Cloudy’s rosebushes. “This rose became the symbol for gratitude, and we will have Scazzarda Stellarum explain why.”

As Scazzarda again explained the meaning of the rose, Cloudy looked around at the joyous crowd and smiled. She thought over the events of the past two weeks. Just a few days ago Miriam’s family was in debt, Wylanda was a jerk, and nothing seemed to be going right. But now Miriam could stay in Spring Breeze, Wylanda was saved, and everything had turned out wonderfully. Cloudy knew only the hand of the Lord Himself could have worked things out in such a mighty and marvelous way.

“And now,” Springtime said when Scazzarda had finished, “we will have a few stand up and say what they are thankful for.”

A young woman stood up. “I’m thankful for my husband and my family and for the grace the Lord has shown, thought I went astray in previous years while battling drugs and rehab,” she said.

A middle-aged man was next. “I’m thankful my wife, though she’s ill with cancer, is still alive, and that I’m able to be with her at the hospital. I’m thankful for my children and what they are becoming.”

“I’m thankful for my mommy and baby brother,” a little girl about three years old said.

Wylanda then stood. “I’m thankful for my best friends and that I’m a child of the King—and that we’re all able to be here tonight as God’s family,” she said firmly.

Miriam was next. “I’m so grateful for my unborn sibling and for the fact that God is with us and that I’m able to stay in this neighborhood,” she said.

A few more people went before Cloudy stood and prepared to say what she was thankful for. Her eyes landed on the knight, who was holding his mother’s hand. Scazzarda smiled at him, and his eyes glowed light blue.

Cloudy lifted her head and said strongly, “I have many things I am thankful for, but before I begin, I want to say something.
“I am aware many here are struggling with past trauma, and I will not say I can relate, because I cannot. But I can tell you this: If you have the Lord Jesus Christ in your life, you are in good hands. The Lord will preserve you if you trust Him.
“I am also aware that many here may not have ever made a personal choice to accept the Lord. If so, the time is now. Today is the day of salvation; don’t wait any longer. You’re not promised tomorrow, nor your next breath.”

Springtime listened to her daughter speak these bold words and smiled at her husband. He nodded imperceptibly and listened.

“And now for my thankfulness list: I am thankful for my family and my friends. I am thankful that we are all here to tonight. I am thankful that I have shelter, food, water, a good school, and good hygiene,” Cloudy said. Some people chuckled at the last statement. “But most importantly, I am thankful that Jesus is my Friend and that He will never forsake me or leave me. I am thankful Jesus is Jesus!”

Everyone began to clap. It started out quietly and then grew louder and louder until Cloudy thought she would become deaf. She pinned down her ears to block out the roar of the mass of clapping hands and paws. The applause went on for so long that finally Springtime had to stop it.

“Now who wants to say grace?” Showerstorm asked.

“I will,” Scazzarda volunteered.

While Scazzarda payed for God’s blessing over the food, Cloudy looked over at the knight. He seemed ill at ease and rather uncomfortable with the fact that his mother was praying. Cloudy felt a bit concerned and sorry for him. He didn’t strike her as the kind to trust others, and she felt it had something to do with his past. She made up her mind to be his personal friend. So while the others were praying, she quickly grabbed a sheet of paper and a pen and scribbled down a short but powerful poem. She folded it carefully and tucked it away as Scazzarda finished her prayer.

“Now let the feast begin!” Springtime announced.

As happy hands passed around the food from table to table, Miriam leaned over and whispered to Cloudy, “Isn’t it amazing what the Lord can do?”

“Yes,” Cloudy said softly—and she meant it.

Books

Book 1: Thankful Hearts

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Chapter Six: The Talk

 

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.”

Books

Book 1: Thankful Hearts

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Chapter Five: Wylanda’s Ingratitude

 

Cloudy watched Wylanda stalk off, her hair blowing back in a light breeze, the hem of her dress flapping lazily. When she had disappeared among the thick crowd, Cloudy turned to the knight and apologized, “I’m sorry about Wylanda, Magnus. She’s quite rude to everyone she meets except for those who are in her social status lane.”

The knight bowed his head, extremely uncomfortable. Uncomfortable both with being made fun of and being the center of someone’s sympathy, which he absolutely hated. He managed a smile. “It’s okay, Cloudy. It wasn’t your fault.”

“Dang right it wasn’t her fault!” said Eloise. “Why, I bet you anything Wylanda’s parents don’t raise her right! No wonder she’s a spoiled brat!”

Sharkell tilted his head. “But if so, Eloise, why do they send her to a Christian school? Why bother to spend all that money when they could just get her into the local public school for free?”

Eloise shrugged. “I wish I knew that part of the puzzle.” She scowled angrily. “But nonetheless, Wylanda should know better than to behave so irrationally.”

Scazzarda brushed an ant off her dress. “Now, now, kids. We may not understand exactly why Wylanda acts the way she does, but the important thing is to treat her with kindness.” She shook her head a little sadly. “I think that girl may have some personality problems linked to her past.”

Cloudy frowned, her eyes thoughtful.

Star paid little attention to Scazzarda’s words. Sitting down and scratching her ear, she addressed herself directly to her friends. “Speaking of Wylanda’s parents, have you guys even seen them? They don’t like anything like Wylanda. They have dark skin, too, unlike her.”

Sniper scoffed. “So? That doesn’t mean anything.”

“It might,” Star told him, briefly detaining from her ear-scratching and looking at him. “She could be adopted.”

“Or maybe her parents’ family lines are mixed,” Sniper pointed out. “Maybe one line has dark skin color and the other light.”

“Maybe.” Star sighed deeply. “But even their physical features aren’t the same. They look completely different.”

“Doesn’t mean she’s adopted,” Sniper said. Then his face lit up and he grinned. “Maybe she was kidnapped like that girl in the movie Tangled was by that creepy woman.”

“Okay, going a little too far there, Sniper,” responded Cloudy, giving him a sideways look. “But maybe Star’s right. Maybe the girl really is adopted.”

“Who cares if she is? Doesn’t give her a right to be mean, does it?” Sharkell snapped. “She should learn to be nicer to us.”

“Well, maybe we should learn to be nicer to her,” Cloudy retorted.

“Huh?!” Sniper exclaimed, completely taken aback. “What are you talking about?”

“We haven’t exactly been very nice to her,” Cloudy admitted. “When she said mean things to us, we reacted rudely, though some of us might not have known it. Maybe we thought we were handling the situation the way it was supposed to be handled, but that’s not the case. In hindsight, we’re really acting just as bad as she is.”

Sniper was too stunned to speak, but Sharkell asked, “What showed you we were doing that, Cloudy?”

Cloudy cast a glance at Scazzarda. “Miss Scazzarda did. It was what she said about treating Wylanda with kindness that really got me thinking, and it occurred to me that that was not what we have been doing. Rather, it was the—” She hunted for the right words. “—the polar opposite.”

“Oh. . .” Sharkell’s voice trailed off.

Sniper finally spoke. “But why should we treat someone with kindness when they’ve been so mean to us?”

“Gosh, Sniper!” Cloudy burst out, frustrated with him. She stood up straight, her tail erect and her voice loud as she glared angrily into the wide, astonished eyes of her older brother. “Even God tells us to love and treat our enemies with kindness! Don’t you ever read God’s Word?”

Sniper’s response sent a shock wave through her body: “Don’t you?”

The fire melted out of Cloudy’s eyes. She stared at Sniper, his eyes glaring defiantly into hers, his angry look communicating something to her. And she suddenly understood. Why was she bearing down on her brother for something she was guilty of as well? Jesus’ words from Matthew 7:1-5 popped into her mind:

“Judge not, that you be not judged. For with the judgment you pronounce you will be judged, and with the measure you use it will be measured to you. Why do you see the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when there is the log in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother’s eye.”

The passage was not referring to literal specks and logs, but rather sin. Two or more people who have committed the same sin cannot judge one another because they are all guilty. It was like scolding your little sister for her theft of a cookie from Mom’s cookie jar when you stole a cookie too.

Cloudy whapped her tail slowly, lost in thought, her gaze to the ground. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, then looked up at Sniper. “Sniper, I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have judged you for being mean to Wylanda. I’m guilty for being mean to her as well. Please forgive me.”

Sniper chewed his lower lip and looked at the slide, the swing, the tree house, and finally Cloudy. “Apology accepted. I forgive you,” he said softly.

Cloudy looked to the knight to see if he had any comment on this, but the realized he was gone. She blinked in surprise and quickly looked this way and that, but didn’t see him anywhere. “Miss Scazzarda?” she shouted.

“What is it, dear?”

“Where’s Magnus? He’s not here!”

“Hmm?” Scazzarda stood up and shaded her eyes from the glaring sun, looking around for her son. When she couldn’t spot him, she shrugged and sat back down in her shady spot underneath the tree house. “Oh, he probably went off by himself for a while. He does that a lot. Don’t worry about him.”

“Why does he go off by himself?” Star wondering, gazing wonderingly at Scazzarda.

“When he wants to be alone or to think.”

“What does he want to think about?” Sniper asked with a slight smirk. It was obvious he was being more than a little nosy.

Scazzarda’s tranquil expression changed to one of uneasiness and wariness. “Well, I can’t say.”

“Why not?” Arrow asked.

“You’re not old enough to understand,” was the reply.

Arrow decided not to say anything more. So did Cloudy. Both decided to trust Scazzarda’s judgment; after all, she was older and wiser. The other children looked curiously at one another, their eyes bright and puzzled, but did not speak.

“Oh, oh,” Miriam said, noticing her mother standing at the edge of the crowd and waving to her. “Looks like Mom wants me. BRB.” And like a shot, she was off and running.

“BRB?” Cloudy repeated.

“Be right back,” Scazzarda murmured sleepily, her eyes drifting closed.

“Oh.” Cloudy fell silent, watching Miriam tear through the throng as fast as she could.

 

* * * * *

 

“What?!” Miriam stared wild-eyed at her mother, her face full of shock and disbelief. “We have to leave the feast?! Why?!!”

“I don’t want to stay here anymore,” Meredith said shortly. “I’m tired and dizzy and I feel sick. I just want to go home.”

Miriam caught her mother’s hand and pressed it gently to her chest. “Mom, you’re stressing yourself out too much. You need to relax.”

“Relax!” Meredith spat the word as if she had heard something unpleasant. “How can I relax if my husband is weak and injured and we’re about to be homeless?!”

Miriam was surprised beyond measure. If her mother had ever showed any lack of faith, it was now. Putting her hands on her hips and speaking sharply, Miriam retorted, “Mom, what happened to trusting God to provide for our needs?”

“Provide.” Meredith whispered the word as though it were foreign to her. “Provide?” Her eyes glazed over and she grabbed the top fence rail.

“Mom?” Miriam said, fear beginning to bubble up in her at her mother’s strange look. “Are you all right?”

“I’m. . .fine. . .” Suddenly Meredith swayed and almost fell, but Miriam caught her arm and stopped her from toppling to the ground.

“Meredith!” Springtime yelled, running toward her with Showerstorm in tow. “Are you okay?”

Meredith turned toward Springtime, her eyes devoid of any light. “No.” She sounded as if she would cry.

“Mom!”

“Meredith!”

“Here, I’ve got her,” Showerstorm said, supporting Meredith as he led her to the house to lie down. Springtime watched them go, then turned to Miriam. “Your mother will be okay, honey,” she said soothingly.

Miriam’s face was filled with worry and her eyes with tears. Her chin trembled as she whispered, “is Mom sick? Is something wrong with her?”

Springtime knelt down so that she was on eye level with the little girl. “Has your mother had these symptoms for a while?”

Miriam nodded. “Yeah, for about three weeks or so.”

“Has she vomited in the morning at all?”

Miriam nodded again, looking confused. “Why do you ask?”

Springtime grinned widely as she stood up and headed for the house. “If I’m not mistaken, Miriam,” she said over her shoulder, “you might be having a little brother or sister soon!”

Miriam stared at Springtime’s retreating back, amazed. A little brother or sister?! Did that mean a baby?!! Miriam was so happy she smiled, her heart full of gladness. She wanted to dance, jump, laugh, whoop with joy, shout the good news to everyone—but she didn’t.

“I must run to tell my friends,” she said to herself. “They’ll be amazed.” With these thoughts in mind, she sprinted excitedly in the direction of the tree house, pausing only when someone got in her way. Politely she asked them to move and was off again.

Miriam was almost to the tree house when someone stepped in front of her again. With a resigned sigh, she was about to ask the person to please move aside when she saw who it was. Her breath caught in her throat and her dark eyes grew wide.

It was Wylanda!

For a moment, the two stared each other down. Then Wylanda spoke, “Where are you going, little beggar girl?”

Miriam found herself blushing as she glanced at her worn brown dress. She was furious, about to bite back with a lashing retort, but then recalled what Scazzarda had said about treating Wylanda with kindness. “Um, hi, Wylanda,” she said, mustering up her friendliest voice. “I was just going to see my friends.”

“Why?” Wylanda sneered. “Do you have some exciting piece of news that you’re just dying to share with them?”

Miriam nodded, her face lighting up with joy. Wylanda noticed her change of expression. “As a matter of fact, I do have some exciting news, Wylanda.”

An interested expression came over Wylanda’s face. “What?” she asked, her voice full of curiosity.

“My mom’s having a baby!” Miriam announced.

Wylanda’s mouth flew wide open in shock. “What??”

“I know! I know! It’s exciting, isn’t it?” Miriam danced about happily. “I’ve always wanted a sibling and now I’ll have one! Yay! Praise God!”

Wylanda narrowed her eyes at the mention of God. “Why would God give you a sibling?” she asked in a surly tone.

Miriam’s face flushed red with anger at the rude question, but she decided to be gracious. Pasting a smile on her face, she answered,” Because God loves me!”

“God loves you?” Wylanda sounded genuinely confused. “Why would He love you?”

“Because I’m His daughter and He’s my Father.” Then Miriam stopped dancing and looked solemnly at Wylanda, and with a gentle voice said, “You could be His daughter too, Wylanda, if you would ask Him to take you in.”

Wylanda threw up her hands and rolled her eyes to the heavens. “Miriam, my own father wasn’t even reliable. Why would I ask some strange Galilean carpenter Who lived two thousand years ago to be my Father?”

Miriam frowned, pondering Wylanda’s words. “Wait. Did you just say your own dad wasn’t reliable?”

Wylanda’s eyes widened and she put her hand over her mouth, realizing she had just slipped up. “Um, never mind. That was never meant to be revealed to anyone. . .”

Miriam’s eyes filled with compassion. “Oh, Wylanda. You were adopted, weren’t you?”

Wylanda didn’t answer.

“Your biological parents probably did something to you and you were taken from them and sent to an orphanage. Is that right?”

There was silence. Then Wylanda answered faintly, “I never wanted anyone to know.”

“Why didn’t you tell us you were adopted?”

“Because you all come from good homes and I don’t want to be noted as the outcast,” Wylanda snapped. “Okay? My parents left me on the sidewalk when I was born because they didn’t want a girl, for goodness’ sake! My neighbor took me to the orphanage and two years later, I was adopted by Mother and Father Coven. They’ve taken care of me ever since.”

Miriam felt sorry for Wylanda for the first time. “Unfortunately, you’re not alone in that situation. Most kids are adopted, Wylanda.”

Wylanda’s face was taut with bitterness. “If God really loved me, I don’t think He would allow me to go through such a thing as that, would He? Am I some kind of stranger to Him because I was adopted?”

Miriam shook her head. “No. No one is a stranger to God, Wylanda. He made everyone and everything; He knows all their names. He created the sun, moon, stars, planets, galaxies, animals, and everything else you could think of! But He didn’t just create the universe and then sit back to let it run on its own. No, He cared for His creation. He still is caring for it, in fact, and will until the end of the age. Wylanda, God is the most trustworthy Person in existence.”

“I thought God died,” Wylanda said. “He died on the cross many years ago.”

Miriam stoutly nodded her head. “Oh, He died, all right. He died for you and me. He took everyone’s sins on His shoulders and drank every drop of His Father’s wrath so we wouldn’t have to. But He’s not dead anymore,” she proclaimed. “He rose from the grave three days after He was crucified and conquered death and sin!” Her eyes bright, she asked, “Do you believe that, Wylanda?”

Wyladan raised an eyebrow and tapped her forehead thoughtfully, carefully thinking of her words. “I mean. . .yeah, I believe in God. I believe He’s real and He’s divine and that He died on the cross and that He’s three people in one—Father, Son, and Spirit.” She hesitated a moment, as if uncertain of something.

Miriam prodded, “So what do you not believe?”

Wylanda acted a bit startled by the question, but answered, “Well, I don’t believe that God loves everyone like some Christians say he does. I mean, like, what about those with bad backgrounds and incredibly evil pasts? Why in the world would God want anything to do with them? I also do not believe He rose from the dead. If He really is alive, he should be caring for and protecting His creation, and from what I’ve seen, that’s not the case. There’s so much evil in the world and hardly any good, you know. If I were God, I wouldn’t allow anything terrible to happen.”

Miriam nodded, though she was slightly puzzled by Wylanda’s views of the world. “Can you explain why you believe what you do?”

Wylanda scratched her head and looked at her freshly painted fingernails. “Um. . .well, I mean, from what my old public school teachers taught me, the Bible is not a Book to be taken literally. You have to use your brain and decide which parts are reliable and which parts that weren’t mean to be taken literally. . .” He voice trailed off as she noticed Miriam staring at her.

“But Wylanda,” Miriam insisted, spreading out her hands, “if you don’t believe certain parts of the Bible, why believe any part of it?”

Wylanda didn’t know how to answer. “Are you trying to be smart with me?” she angrily demanded.

“No,” Miriam said, shaking her head. “I’m trying to get you to think.” She took a deep breath and rushed on. “You see, Wylanda, the Bible lines up with history and the world today perfectly. Everything is in line with what the Bible says. Prophecies from the Bible have been and are being fulfilled even today.”

“Maybe so, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to believe everything the Bible says,” Wylanda muttered. “Not unless you can prove to me it’s trustworthy.”

Miriam frowned, but pressed on. “Okay, think of this: If one part of the Bible isn’t trustworthy, should any part be trusted?”

Wylanda just looked at her.

“Or think of this: Why would you believe in something that’s not fully trustworthy?”

Wylanda still didn’t reply. She couldn’t answer the young girl’s questions adequately. “I don’t know,” she said finally, “and I don’t care. The point is, I really don’t want anything to do with all that religion. It’s a waste of time.”

Miriam crossed her arms and got right up in Wylanda’s face, causing her to back away a few steps. “Wylanda, I will say this: Christianity is not a religion. Christianity is trusting in God for salvation and asking Him to be your Lord and Savior. Once that happens, He now governs your life. Now religion—that is working your way to salvation through good works.”

Wylanda blinked, nonplussed for a minute, but she snapped back, “Still, I don’t want to answer to Jesus for everything I ever do. If I’m not saved, I don’t have to go to Him all the time and repent of my wrongdoings, nor do I have to bother with being sure to spend time with Him. I’d rather not do that.”

“Everyone’s going to answer to Jesus one day whether they want to or not,” Miriam retorted. “If you’re saved, you go to heaven. If not, you go to hell. It’s as simple as that. And I don’t care what anyone else thinks—God knows each individual person’s heart and knows whether they are saved or not. Don’t think anyone can run from God, because they can’t. Everyone will either go to one of two places—heaven or hell. Your choice.”

Wylanda’s eyes grew wide as she witnessed Miriam—three years younger than herself—boldly proclaiming the truth to her. For some unknown reason, that made Wylanda feel very small and cowardly, but she couldn’t tell why.

\Wylanda opened her mouth, about to speak, but then shut it her and said quietly, “Okay, then. I get that.” She brushed a grasshopper off her dress and straightened a lock of her hair, then looked at the ground. “Um, please tell me, Miriam, how God can want anything to do with evil people.”

Miriam studied the girl, wondering if she truly wanted to know or was just looking for an excuse to mock her. But there was nothing mocking or sarcastic in Wylanda’s looks.

“Everyone is evil, Wylanda,” Miriam explained. “We’re all born sinners. There’s no pick-and-choose method when it comes to who’s evil and who’s not. Romans 3:23 says, ‘For all have sinned and come short of the glory of God.’ All sin and deserve to go to hell.” She sighed heavily and sadly shook her head. “It all goes back to the Garden of Eden. The world was originally a perfect place, where men and God could talk and be together in perfect harmony. But when Eve ate of the fruit from the tree which Go forbade her to eat from, the fellowship between God and man was broken. God hates sin and can’t look upon it.”

“The why didn’t God stop Eve from disobeying?” Wylanda asked.

Miriam shrugged. “He could have, but then Eve would have been a robot, forced to do what God wanted her to.”

“But I thought God wanted us to do right.”

“He does, but He won’t force us to do so,” Miriam said. “He gives us a choice to do what’s right or wrong. And as Christians, we should want to please God and strive to be like Him. That’s not to say we won’t ever mess up, okay, because we will. We’re not perfect. We still have a sin nature. But God is merciful and will forgive us if we go to Him and repent.”

Miriam felt a thrill run through her. She was actually ministering to someone about God! This was possibly the best thing to happen to her next to her conversion.

“Okay, I get it,” Wylanda said softly. “But what about those with awful backgrounds, like mine?”

“God loves those kinds of people too!” The smallest smile worked its way across Miriam’s face. “But even though there are those who have been brutally abused or have messed up, God doesn’t care. He cares nothing about the past, creed, or ethnicity of someone. All He wants is for all to come to Him and be His children.”

Wylanda nodded understandingly. “I get that.” Then she frowned. “But, um, I have another question.”

“Uh-huh?”

“ Why does God have to send us to hell for committing some small sins, such as lying or stealing something? Our sins are small compared to eternity, so why does He judge us so harshly? I mean, I don’t really think the punishment fits the crime.”

Miriam looked off in the distance and chewed her lip, trying to think of a way to explain the answer to Wylanda. “Okay.” She faced Wylanda again. “Think of this scenario: Suppose a heartless murderer took only one minute to strangle a young child, okay?” Seeing Wylanda’s disgusted expression, she hastened to add, “Sorry if this sounds graphic, but bear with me. Suppose it took only a minute to kill this young girl. Now here’s the question: Would you put him in prison for the same amount of time it took to commit the crime?”

Wylanda shook her head. “No.”

“That’s right. Now picture this: Say this same murderer kills the king of Dreamland, and it takes only thirty seconds. Would you put him in prison for that same length of time in which he was able to murder the king?”

Again Wylanda said no.

“But why not?” Miriam inquired innocently.

“Because that’s not serving justice!” Wylanda protested. “A murderer who kills a king deserves to be put in prison for life, not a few seconds! Justice needs to be served, and the only way to obtain justice is for the murderer to serve a punishment proportionate to the crime he committed.”

“That’s correct,” Miriam said. “Time in prison for assaulting someone depends on the status of the person, right? And killing the king would definitely be at the top of the list.”

“But what does this have to do with my question?”

“God is the Ruler of Creation. He is majestic, wonderful, and awesome. He is above every earthly king or emperor. And sinning against Him requires a very heavy price to pay, which is death. We deserve to die, both physically and spiritually. Therefore, Wylanda, God is indeed giving us a just punishment.”

Wylanda folded her arms. “Who taught you all of this, Miriam?”

“My mother!” Miriam sang.

Wylanda looked surprised, then confused, and last of all troubled, but said nothing. She just glanced at Miriam and then walked off without another word. Miriam watched her go, wondering what was going on in that mind of hers. Then the seven-year-old took to her heels and ran off toward the tree house.

 

* * * * *

 

“Guys! Hey, guys!” Cloudy was roused by Miriam’s excited voice and opened her eyes. She had been taking a lovely nap next to Scazzarda in the shade. Now she stretched, got up, and ambled her way over to her friends.

“Oh, Miriam!” Arrow called, waving a paw. “Hi! What did your mom want you for?”

Miriam was practically wriggling with excitement as she plopped down next to Star. She leaned forward, her eyes bright with joy as she said in a stage whisper, “My mom’s having a baby!”

“What!” the children chorused.

“It’s true! My mom’s pregnant!”

“Congratulations,” came a Spanish-accented voice from the top of a nearby tree. Startled, Miriam looked up and saw the knight standing there, his cape drawn about himself. “Having a baby is always exciting. My daughter is having one nerself.”

“You have a daughter?” asked Cloudy. “I didn’t know that.”

“Yes, I do.” Miriam thought the knight’s voice seemed a little sad as he said the words, and she wondered why. However, she was too afraid to ask.

Arrow cleared his throat loudly, causing everyone to turn to toward him. H too had sensed the knight’s unhappy mood and wanted to change the subject. “I, for one, absolutely can’t wait for the feast tonight,” he said. “Miss Springtime says we get to stand up and say what we’re thankful for.”

“And I suppose you’re thankful for this bunch of losers,” came an all-too-familiar voice from behind Star. Arrow gasped softly and the knight visibly tensed. Miriam slowly turned her head and saw Wylanda standing there, her brown eyes dark and intimidating.

“Uhhhh. . .” Miriam was a loss for words.

“What do you want?” Sharkell asked coolly. “We’re trying to have a private conversation here.”

“It won’t be so private once you say it at the dinner table tonight.” Wylanda laughed as if she had just heard the funniest joke on the planet. “You’re talking about what you’re thankful for, aren’t you?”

That was Miriam’s chance. “Yes, Wylanda. Why don’t you join us?”

“What?!” Lily roared. “She’s a brat!”

“No way is she sitting with us! She insulted us and called us losers!” Nika chimed in.

“Okay, that is quite. . .” Scazzarda began, but Wylanda cut her off.

“Oh, be quiet, old grandma.” Back to the children. “I wouldn’t join you guys for the world. Besides, why would I? I don’t have anything to be thankful for.”

“Huh?” Cloudy blinked a few times, completely astounded. “But of course you do!”

“Yeah? Like what?” Wylanda smirked. “Tell me, Prophesied One!”

Cloudy’s mind was spinning with all sorts of things Wylanda could be thankful for. “Well, for one, what about your big mansion and your jewels and your fancy dresses?”

Wylanda suddenly acted very uncomfortable. “I. . .No, I-I don’t. . .”

“What’s the matter, Wylanda? Cat got your tongue?” Sniper asked, a hint of a smirk on his lips.

Wylanda bit her lip. “I. . .I meant that those things don’t make me happy,” she rushed to explain.

“I’m not in the least bit surprised,” Eloise muttered under her breath. “If you don’t have God, you’re not gonna be happy with anything.”

“What about your parents?” Cloudy queried. “Aren’t you grateful for them?”

Wylanda answered defiantly, “No, I’m not grateful for them. They’re so fussy and overprotective of me and won’t let me go anywhere without an adult except for school. They’re stupid, religious, holier-than-thou Christians who make me read my Bible and pray with them every day. Every day, they tell me I need to accept Jesus as my personal Lord and Savior. I’m sick of it.”

That surprised Cloudy in more ways than one. She had no idea that Wylanda’s parents were Christians.

But Scazzarda was horrified. “Why, Wylanda Coven!” she exclaimed. “How can you say such awful things about your parents? They love you and try so hard to raise you right.”

“What do I care?” Wylanda shot back. “They can love me, but I don’t love them.”

The children were speechless. The knight, feeling anger and sorrow rising in him, suppressed it with all his strength. But Eloise was thoroughly fed up with Wylanda’s verbal abuse. She stood up and shrieked loudly at Wylanda, causing her to recoil. “I’ve had it with you, Wylanda Coven! I will not put up your insults and complaints any longer! You have no clue what it means to love, you spoiled, rotten girl! You’re a huge loser! You make fun of everyone and laugh at others that are less fortunate than you! You make them feel unappreciated and unloved! Well, guess what? If you show hate to others, I’m going to show hate right back to you!”

“Eloise!” Nika cried. “Eloise, what about the Golden R—”

“No!” Eloise yelled at her little sister. She was so enraged she was shaking. “I don’t give a lick about the Golden Rule anymore! If Wylanda wants to spread hate around, I’ll shove it right back in her face!” Turning back to Wylanda, she continued, “You’ve made others feel miserable for far too long, Wylanda! Now I’m gonna make you feel a million times worse! You’re stupid, you’re ugly, you’re an idiot, and I can’t stand being around you! I’m surprised anyone could! You want to know my honest opinion on you? Well, too bad if you don’t, because here it is: You don’t deserve any love! You. . .are. . . hated!”

“Eloise!” Cloudy screamed at the top of her lungs. “Stop it right now!!”

Eloise stopped yelling and looked at her friend, who was staring at her as if she were a crazy person who had escaped a mental institution. Suddenly realizing what she had done, Eloise gasped and sank to the ground, guilt flooding her through. What had she done? Why had she said such terrible things?

The entire crowd had heard the heated speech and were staring, shocked, at Eloise and Wylanda. Even Mrs. Coven was there, her gaze disapproving as she glared at Eloise with contempt. There was no sound but the whooshing of the wind and the rustle of leaves.

Eloise and Wylanda looked at each other for the longest time, but neither one spoke. Wylanda’s look was one of fright and hurt as she stared with wild eyes at the other girl. Eloise knew she had upset Wylanda with her unkind words and needed to apologize for that. She stood up and said softly, “Um, Wylanda, I. . .”

“No!” Wylanda exclaimed, backing away. Her eyes were full of terror. “Don’t-Don’t you dare come near me!”

“But I want to. . .”

“Get away from me!” With those words, Wylanda took off for the house and disappeared among the crowd. Oddly, Mrs. Coven did not try to stop her.

Cloudy, her eyes narrowed, knew that the time had come to have a calm, serious talk with Wylanda. The longer this unrest went on, the worse things would get with her. With these thoughts in her head, Cloudy started off toward the house.

“Cloudy, where are you going?” Arrow called as she started to walk off.

“To talk to Wylanda,” Cloudy replied without turning around.

“What? Are you joking?” Star inquired. “That girl hates you! She wouldn’t listen to you for anything!”

“Well, I’m going to try,” Cloudy said firmly, a determined and fierce glint in her eye. “Lord knows what Wylanda’s going through. I believe He’s calling me to talk to her.”

Books

Book 1: Thankful Hearts

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Chapter Four: Meeting the Stellarums

 

A blond-haired girl about seven years old scurried through the massive crowd milling in front of Cloudy’s house and hurried up to the front porch. “Excuse me?” she asked Springtime, who was standing in front of the grill talking to Springtime.

Springtime turned her head and glanced down at the girl. “Yes?”

“Do you have a bathroom here?”

“Yes, just inside.”

“Thanks,” the little girl said, darting into the house. Springtime grinned and called after her, “You’re welcome.”

It was Thanksgiving Day, and the outing was in full swing. The children were playing on a makeshift playground while the adults chatted or helped cook the food needed for the big feast that would take place later that evening. The sky was a cloudless blue and the sun warmed everyone through, though it was not even sixty degrees. The scent of the roses on the bushes in front of the house wafted through the air and created a lovely fragrance. A raven called out to another raven, and a third raven answered them. A goose honked as it flew overhead.

Showerstorm shook his head in amazement when he saw how many were gathered. “This place is packed!” he exclaimed.

“Must be a million people here,” joked Springtime. “Just kidding. Still, I’m surprised so many people turned out here.”

“I hope they’ll have a great day,” the blond-haired child said as she came out the front door. She smiled at Springtime and Showerstorm and then darted away.

“Cute kid,” Showerstorm said.

“Isn’t that Miriam’s friend? The Palmer girl?” Springtime asked.

“Yes, I believe it is.”

“She has a twin sister.”

“I know. I saw. They look exactly the same. Wonder how their parents can tell them apart!”

“I’m sure they have their ways,” Springtime said calmly. Then she nervously cast a look around. “Oh, I hope our plan works. Miriam’s future may depend on it.” She bit her lip in anxiety. “What if these people don’t cooperate?”

“Don’t doubt your plan once it’s underway. If you have one, then stick with it until the end,” said Showerstorm.

Springtime nodded, feeling reassured. She smiled at her darling husband. One of the nicest characteristics about him was that he had the ability to make anyone feel better with just a few comforting words. Just like his father, she thought. Scooting a few feet over to him, she gave him a gentle hug, and he fondly returned the embrace.

 

* * * * *

 

Cloudy impatiently peered over the heads of the crowd from her position in the tree house her parents and a few of the neighbors had built almost a week earlier. She was waiting for Eloise Palmer, one of Miriam’s friends and a strong Christian. Nika Palmer, Eloise’s younger twin sister, was sitting on the lone swing attached to the tree house. Zach Linky, a handsome nine-year-old and another one of Miriam’s friends, sat on the slide. Arrow and Lily, a German Shepherd from Cloudy’s class, sat on the ground together behind the tree house. Miriam was standing underneath one of the tree’s overhanging branches. She was wearing her rose bracelet again. Star, bored, balanced easily on the middle of the seesaw.

“Come on, Eloise, hurry up,” Lily muttered, sighing out loud.

Zach yawned and blinked against the dazzling glare of the sun. “What’s the hurry, Lily?” he called down to her. “It’s not like we’re doing anything right now, ya know.”

“We are about to play the prince rescuing the princess from the pirates,” Cloudy called down to him, rolling her eyes. “Sniper and his brothers just need to get the costumes first.”

Zach snorted and swatted at a mosquito on his arm. “Your brothers are really into pirates, aren’t they?”

“Oh, yeah. They even dressed up as pirates for Halloween!” Cloudy suspired loudly and raised her eyes to the heavens. “I mean, they can pursue whatever passions they want, but this is honestly getting a bit out of hand.”

“Don’t you mean paw?” Zach said, grinning. His brown eyes twinkled with amusement.

“Very funny, Zach,” Cloudy retorted.

“But if you’re getting tired of them playing pirates, then why play this game?” Nika asked, looking up at Cloudy.

“Because I’m practically bored and this is only game they suggested that actually seemed fun.”

“Ironic,” Miriam murmured.

“Hi, guys, I’m back,” panted Eloise as she darted over to them. “Sniper and the other boys are right behind me with the costumes.”

“Oh, joy,” Star said sarcastically. “I can’t wait. I’m dying from impatience.”

“Star, cut with the sarcasm,” Zach ordered sternly. “You never know, this could be fun.”

“Yeah, perhaps, but my definition of fun is not always my brothers’ definition of fun.”

Before Zach could say anything else, Cloudy’s brothers reappeared with the costumes. “All right, men—and ladies,” Sniper said importantly. “Here are your roles. I am the pirate leader, Cap’n Dave, and Yodi and Waffle are my men.”

“Why do we have to be your men?” Yodi muttered quietly. Sniper didn’t hear him, but Cloudy did.

“Pancake and Sharkell are the princess’s knights, and Arrow is the prince. Zach, Eloise, Nika, Lily, and Miriam are the princess’s servants; Cloudy, you are the princess; and Star, you are Cloudy’s lady-in-waiting.”

“Oh, great,” Star mumbled to herself. To Sniper she shouted, “And I’m a lady just waiting for you to start this dumb game so we can hurry up and end it!”

Sniper stared at her for a moment, his face breaking into a scowl. “It’s not dumb. Heck, this’ll be the most awesome game you’ve ever played in your whole life!”

“I doubt that, Cap’n Dave,” Star retorted. “By the way, what kind of name is that? That’s the most wimpy pirate name ever! That doesn’t even sound scary; it just sounds lame. Why not choose a name like Bloodthirsty Ben Or Blackbeard Barney?”

“No way! Cap’n Dave’s amazing! He’s the most famous pirate ever!”

“Grow up, Sniper! Cap’n Dave isn’t even real! He’s a character from a stupid movie!” Star shouted.

“He’s real if I say he is!” Sniper yelled.

“Okay, can we just play now?” demanded Yodi, breaking up the argument. “And for the record, Sniper, no one cares if Cap’n Dave is real or not. At least they shouldn’t.”

“Yodi’s right! Let’s get our costumes on and get in the bouncy castle!” Lily said.

The children slipped into the garments that were to serve as costumes and adjusted them to their proper size. When they finished, they stood around a few moments gazing at one another.

“Do I look as silly as you do?” Eloise asked Star.

Star grunted in response as she gazed with disgust upon the blue cloak she was wearing. “This costume is hideous,” she grumbled. She peered more closely at it. “Wait a minute. This is Daddy’s! Sniper, why did you give me a boy’s cloak!”

“Aw, be quiet and live with it,” was Sharkell’s response.

“Hey,” Cloudy demanded suspiciously as she surveyed the pastel-pink cloak wrapped around her shoulders. “Isn’t this Mommy’s?”

“Yeah, duh,” Sniper said. He looked odd with his black eye patch and rusted cutlass.

“What!” Lily burst out. “You took it out of her room?!”

“Of course,” Sniper replied. “There aren’t many princess costumes lying around the house, so I had to scrounge up something. And this was it.”

Cloudy’s eyes popped wide open when she saw a black velvet case sitting on the grass right next to her. “Oh, no. No. Sniper, did you—? You didn’t!”

“Yeah, I did,” Sniper said proudly. “Now you can be a real princess!”

“What is it?” Nika asked, kneeling next to the case and gently lifting the lid. Eloise peered over her shoulder, and both gasped.

Sitting in the case on a bed of soft silk was a magnificent diamond crown. Emeralds and rubies had been skillfully embedded into it and a giant opal sat right in the center on the front of the crown. The sunlight flashed on the jewels and radiated its beauty into the chilly afternoon. When Nika bent sideways while looking at the crown, she could see a rainbow shimmering inside it.

“This is amazing!” Eloise gasped. “Is this your mother’s, Cloudy?”

“Yes, it is,” Cloudy said angrily. “It belonged to an ancient queen and it is very priceless!”

“You mean this is authentic?” Nika asked, wide-eyed.

“Yes, and very fragile.”

Nika winced and shut the lid. She didn’t want anything to happen to so valuable a treasure. “Sniper, Cloudy can’t wear this. It could break,” she said gently. “You need to take it back inside.”

“No, I’m going to do it,” Miriam said. She stooped and gently lifted the case into her arms, holding it gently as if it were a child. “It’s a miracle it was able to come out here in one piece. Now I’m gonna make sure it gets back inside in one piece. See you in a minute.” She walked off and mingled with the crowd until they could no longer see her.

“You need to bring this back too,” Cloudy said, pulling off the pink cloak and handing it to Sniper. “Mommy doesn’t want this getting ruined. It’s all she has left of her mother.”

“No way! You need to have something to wear!” Sniper insisted. “A princess can’t just wear nothing!”

“Did you even ask her before taking that—or the crown?” Zach asked, crossing his arms.

A guilty look crossed Sniper’s face, and the others interpreted that as a no. “But we already have it. We might as well use it,” he pointed out. He shrugged and added, “Besides, it’s a lot less likely to get ruined than the crown was.”

Thought Cloudy hated to admit it, her brother was right. “Fine,” she consented. “But I swear, if anything happens to it. . .”

“Nothing’s gonna happen to it,” Star said pointedly. “Can we just play now?”

“Wait for Miriam,” Nika said.

In a minute, Miriam came back, and now the fun could start. “The tree house,” Sniper said, “can be the tower in which the princess is imprisoned. And of course, the bouncy castle is the castle in which the princess lives. Got it? Let’s go!”

Cloudy gingerly stepped into the castle and sat down on the imaginary throne, her knights, servants, and lady-in-waiting surrounding her. Arrow sat beside her.

“What would thou have us do, O princess?” Star said, bowing low.

“I want you, O my lady-in-waiting and loyal knights and servants, to guard me from the evil pirate band,” Cloudy replied in a high-pitched tone. “They will do everything they can to capture me and take over the throne!”

“With all due respect, Your Grace,” Pancake said, his blueish-white cloak reflecting the dim light, “there is no possible way they could take you down. You are too strong and brave. You have conquered every villain that has tried to harm you!”

“Don’t waste your flattery on me,” Cloudy said lightly. “Alas! flattery is but vanity.”

“True, my princess,” Arrow said. “As the wise king Solomon once said in his book of Ecclesiastes, ‘All is vanity.’”

“Your Highness,” Eloise said, curtsying, “you remind me of a great philosopher who lived two hundred years ago. He spake almost the exact words as you. Do you know of whom I speak? It was the great Germani, the one who wrote the book Imagination of the Mind.”

“Yes, Germani,” Arrow said thoughtfully. “A good Christian, he was, but he had some odd ideas.”

“Yeah, like that one idea he had after he went sort of wacky,” Sharkell said. “This man literally thought that he was imagining everyone he saw.” His eyes grew wide and his voice became dramatic. “But perhaps, O prince and princess, he was right! Perhaps we are just imagining one another! Perhaps none of us are real! I could be imagining you and never even know it! Perhaps you—”

“Okay, halt,” Cloudy ordered, holding up a royal paw. “I promise that we are not imagining each other.”

“How do you know?” Sharkell asked, for once forgetting to be respectful.

“Because my imagination could never come up with someone like you,” Cloudy said in a bold tone, and the Palmer sisters broke into laughter.

“Well, your imagination isn’t very great, then!” Sharkell snapped back. That time, everyone burst out laughing to the point where their sides began to hurt.

Just then, Sniper, Yodi, and Waffle burst into the castle and began attacking the knights. Pancake pretended to be stabbed to death by Waffle’s cutlass and fell prostrate onto the floor, motionless. Sharkell slipped out the door and tried to run away, but Yodi overtook him and brought him down.

“Aye, lassie,” Sniper said with a wicked grin, brandishing his cutlass in Cloudy’s face as she sat frozen in fear. “Ye know me. I am Cap’n Dave and I have come to take the throne from ye!”

“Stay away from my princess!” Arrow barked, drawing his rapier and thrusting it at Sniper. Sniper avoided it and knocked Arrow’s word to the floor, leaving him weaponless.

“Ha, ha! What will ye do now?” Sniper cackled with glee. “Ye are powerless against the great Cap’n Dave and his band!” He turned to Yodi and Sharkell and commanded: “Barney, Mustafa, kill all but the princess! Spare no other!”

Yodi and Sharkell jumped to do Sniper’s bidding. The servants screamed in fear as they all tried to get away from the vicious pirates, but there was nothing they could do. They were all killed except for Star, Arrow, and Eloise, for they managed to escape out the door and run for their lives.

Sniper growled as he realized that three of the royal inhabitants had escaped, including the prince. “Well, they are of no use to us anyway,” he comforted himself. “We have the princess. That’s all we were after.” To his loyal followers he commanded, “Take the princess to the Tower of Torture. She will learn what happens to her if she refuses to hand over the throne to us!”

“Help! Help!” Cloudy cried in her princess’s voice as the pirates dragged her to the tree house and forced her to climb the ladder. Then they climbed up after her.

Down below, hidden in the deep shadows, stood Prince Arrow as he gazed bravely up at the tower in which his love was imprisoned. Star and Eloise stood with him.

“What shall we do, Your Highness?” Star whispered. “Thy princess is a prisoner in yonder tower!”

Arrow had to smile. Though Star had formerly acted like she didn’t like playing this game, she now seemed to be enjoying it immensely.

“Yes, we must save her!” Eloise whispered fearfully.

“I have an idea,” Arrow said quietly. “I shall climb up and fight Cap’n Dave myself and rescue the princess!”

“How, Your Grace?” Star asked. “You have no weapon.”

“I do,” Eloise answered, drawing out Sharkell’s sword from beneath her dress and handing it to Arrow. “I picked it up as we ran away from the castle.”

Arrow accepted the sword and raised it high. “Stay here,” he whispered fiercely. “I will go and save Princess Cloudy!”

“Be careful, Your Majesty,” Star begged.

“I will.”

Arrow stole carefully toward the tower, taking great care not to be seen by Yodi, who was on guard. For a moment Arrow was undecided. Should he storm the tower and fight the pirates? Should he sneak in by a different way? Should he distract the guard?

Arrow took a long, deep breath and made his decision. He was going to storm the tower. He quickly climbed the ladder and struck down the guard before he could react. Sniper whirled and saw Arrow, his sword drawn, standing over Yodi, who was pretending to be dead.

“How did ye barge in here?” Sniper demanded, drawing his cutlass.

“Arrow!” gasped Cloudy.

“Cloudy!” Arrow exclaimed.

“Ye are dead!” Sniper roared, charging toward Arrow at full speed.

“No!” Cloudy screamed, covering her eyes with her front paws.

Thankfully, Arrow leaped aside and avoided being stabbed. Sword in his mouth, he chased Sniper in circles around the tower.

Star and Eloise climbed the ladder and jumped into the middle of the battle, Eloise holding a dagger.

“Let the princess go!” Star cried.

“O lady-in-waiting and Sharrone, what are you doing?!” Cloudy shouted.

“Defending thee!” Eloise called, striking down Waffle, who had heard the commotion and had come running in from the next room. “Quickly, princess! Escape while there is still time!”

“I will not leave my prince!”

The price chased Cap’n Dave out onto the balcony of the tower, and there they stood, several thousand feet above the ground. Sniper raised his shield as Arrow drove his sword at him and knocked the shield over the edge of the railing. It careened wildly toward the ground below. . .

“Ouch!” came a woman’s yell from somewhere down below. Arrow and Sniper froze for a minute, looking at one another. Then Arrow cautiously stepped to the edge of the balcony and peered over the railing at a blond-haired woman rubbing her head, a peeved expression on her face. “Who hit me with that shield?” she muttered.

“Sorry about that,” Arrow called down to her.

Surprised, the woman looked up at Arrow dressed in his prince outfit. Blinking a few times, she asked, “Did you throw that?”

“Throw what?” Arrow wondered.

The woman pointed to the shield lying on the ground nearby. “That.”

“Nobody threw it. My friend and I were playing and I knocked the shield away from him.”

Instantly, the woman looked contrite. “Oh.” She glanced around, then up at Arrow again. “Who else is over here with you?”

One by one, Cloudy and her friends abandoned the game and met together in front of the tree house. The woman carefully counted them and said in amazement, “Thirteen children. My, that’s a lot.”

Cloudy noticed for the first time that the woman was wearing a white rose in her hair.

“Mother!” came a shout from nearby. Cloudy turned her head and saw a masked knight wearing a navy-blue cape, gray pauldrons with yellow lining, and a rapier in a brown sheath running toward the woman. He stopped in front of her, breathless. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m okay, dear,” the woman said gently, laying her hand on the knight’s arm. She seemed touched by her son’s concern.

“Whoa, hello,” Sniper muttered to Yodi. “That guy’s rocking his Halloween costume a little too late, isn’t he?”

“Excuse me?” the woman said sharply, snapping her head toward Sniper. “My son is not wearing a Halloween costume. This is his regular clothing.”

Sniper shut his mouth and remained silent.

“Umm, what’s your name?” Cloudy asked the woman.

“My name is Scazzarda Stellarum. This is my son, Magnus,” the woman replied.

“Stellarum?” Star repeated. “Mommy told us she invited you.”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“You look like a really nice lady,” Nika said shyly. “You almost remind me of my mother.”

“Yeah, you do,” Eloise agreed. “She kinda looks like you.”

Scazzarda chuckled. “I’m glad to hear that. Yes, I am a very kind person. And I’m sure your mother’s a very nice woman as well. I’d like to meet her.” She eyed each of the children in turn. “What are your names?”

One by one, the children told her their names. Cloudy went last. “My name is Cloudburst, but I prefer to be called Cloudy. I am the Prophesied Star Warrior who will save Dreamland.”

Scazzarda started, then exclaimed, “Why, I had no idea! I can’t believe my eyes! You’re here at last!”

The knight said not a word, but his eyes flashed light green.

“Ah! Hey! Your son’s eyes just turned green!” Zach told Scazzarda. He sounded a bit frightened.

Scazzarda laughed, her laugh sounding the patter of rain on a summer day. “Oh, don’t be alarmed. His eyes change colors depending on what his emotions are. Yellow is his normal eye color. They turn light green when he’s deep in thought. They turn blue when he’s happy or calm, dark green when he’s anxious, orange when he’s confused, red when he’s angry, pink when he’s amused, purple when he’s in love. . .”

“Mother,” the knight said sternly, clearly embarrassed. Cloudy stifled her laughter, pretending to clear her throat.

“. . .and white when he’s shocked, scared, or fearful of others’ lives,” Scazzarda finished. “I have learned to read his emotions quite well.”

“I can believe that. After all, he is your son,” replied Miriam.

Sniper was studying the knight’s clothing. “Hey, Magnet!” he shouted. “Are you a soldier or something?”

“My name is Magnus, and yes, I am a soldier,” the knight said shortly. He didn’t seem to want to volunteer any more information on the subject.

“Magnus is a wonderful name,” Nika said sincerely, clasping her hands in front of her. “Who named you that?”

The knight stood looking away toward Whispy Woods. He visibly tensed, and Cloudy began to get concerned. “My father,” he said in a tone so quiet that Nika barely heard him.

Nika turned to Cloudy, jerked her thumb at the knight, and mouthed, “What’s up with this guy?!”

Cloudy shrugged, wishing she knew, but she didn’t. It wasn’t her business, anyhow; it was Magnus’. But his strange behavior did make her wonder—what was the matter with him?

“Well, well,” came a chilly voice from behind the group. “What are you all standing around here for? Having a meeting?”

“Oh, no,” whispered Star.

Sharkell’s eyes narrowed. “It can’t be.”

Cloudy was stunned. Slowly, she turned and looked straight into the eyes of Wylanda Coven. Wylanda wore a stunning aqua-colored dress and a brown headband studded with tiny pumpkins, and a turkey charm bracelet hung around her wrist. A pink porcelain rose hung on a golden chain about her neck.

“Well, I didn’t want to go to your lame party, but Mom decided it would be fun, so here I am,” Wylanda said snottily. Her gaze rested upon Scazzarda and the knight, and a disgusted look settled over her features. “Are you having a meeting with this old hag here?”

Cloudy and Star gasped and the boys looked ready to throw hands. Scazzarda looked hurt, but she maintained her dignity and politely replied, “We’re not having a meeting; we’re just chatting. My name is Scazzarda Stellarum, in case you were wondering.”

“I wasn’t, but thanks,” Wylanda said insincerely. She sniffed and turned up her nose at the knight, who watched her with steely eyes. “And who is this? A blueberry?”

“His father must be a strawberry, then,” said Wylanda. She looked at Scazzarda. “And with that mussed, grotesque yellow dress of yours, you could be a squashed, inedible banana.”

Cloudy’s mouth dropped open. She stared, speechless, at Wylanda. How could she even think of saying such rude things to an adult? Just because Scazzarda was older than the rest of them or because the knight looked odd didn’t give Wylanda a right to make fun of them.

“Someone please give me the go-ahead to slap this girl in the face,” Pancake hissed.

“Yeah. She deserves it,” Star whispered. “She can’t get away with being mean to the Stellarums—or anyone else.”

The knight’s eyes glowed a bright red, and Cloudy found herself getting nervous. “You do not talk to my mother that way.”

Wylanda scoffed and burst out laughing. “Ha! I knew your father was a strawberry! Your eyes are red just like a strawberry!”

“Yeah, and my face is turning red with anger,” Eloise said under her breath. “I’m seeing red—never mind, I’m cracking too many jokes.”

Star did her best to suppress her laughter. Zach hid a smile.

Wylanda then glared with distaste at the children’s costumes. “What kind of getup are you all wearing?” she demanded. “Yo, this is, like, last year’s fashion, okay? You all just totally put the uncool in school with these freaky clothes.”

“Shut up, Wylanda,” Sniper said curtly. “We were playing a game.”

“Oh? What game is that? A fashion contest?” Wylanda asked. “If so, then I say all of you lose. You have no clue what it means to be cool.” She tossed her head, causing her brown corkscrew curls to dance. “In fact, you only know what it’s like to be suckers. You all belong in the geek squad. Except for you,” she told the knight. “You belong in a grocery store. Though it would probably be a waste of time to sit around in the produce section, ‘cause I don’t know who in their right mind would want to buy such an ugly fruit as you.”

Some people overheard Wylanda’s statement and snickered. Scazzarda bit her lip. She could see how upset her son was getting and knew that if somebody didn’t make Wylanda be quiet, he could blow up and do something dangerous.

“Cut it out and stop being mean, Wylanda,” Sharkell ordered. “Magnus can’t help the way he looks.”

“I agree,” Wylanda said sarcastically. “Magnet can’t help the way he looks. Hey, come to think of it, that’s a good name for him because he attracts ugliness.”

“Wylanda!” Star yelled. “Shut your trap!”

“Yeah! What’s your problem?” Cloudy asked. “Why do you enjoy being so mean?”

Wylanda smirked in answer and tossed her head again, then walked off without so much as a backward glance. Cloudy shook her head in exasperation. Wylanda had to be dealt with or else she would cause a riot.

 

_______________

Note: I do not own any Kirby characters that are not created by me (such as Meta Knight.) All canon Kirby characters are owned by HAL Laboratory and Nintendo.

Books

Book 1: Thankful Hearts

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Chapter Three: Miriam Capperdale

 

The next morning, Cloudy, and her siblings again headed to school. But this morning they had gotten up two hours before the bell in order to have enough time to invite lots of people to the Thanksgiving feast. Cloudy explained that Sniper and his brothers would invite those inside the school while Star and she would invite those outside.

Cloudy and her sister worked hard; in fact, Cloudy later swore that she had never worked so hard on a project as she did on this one! After an hour, they had successfully answered yes to thirty-three of forty invitations. So far, so good.

Star yawned and leaned against the bus stop sign. “Man, I’m tired. I wonder how many people the boys managed to invite?”

“Hopefully a lot more than us,” Cloudy asserted, worriedly surveying the sheet of paper pinned to her clipboard. On the paper were the names of those who were coming to the feast. “Thirty-three isn’t enough for a giant feast.”

“Ah, don’t sweat it,” Star replied in an unconcerned tone. “I’m sure a ton of people will show up.”

“I hope so,” Cloudy murmured. Then a thought came to mind. “Hey, Star?”

“Yeah?” Star stretched out her back, bracing herself against the sign by digging her claws into the ground.

“Did you—um, well—ever tell Mommy or Daddy about my, uh, fight with Wylanda yesterday?”

Star stopped stretching and stared at her sister. “No, of course not.”

Oh.” Cloudy was silent a moment, then continued, “Did anybody else tell?”

“No. We all agreed not to tell,” Star said.

Cloudy was surprised. “Why?”

“We decided it wasn’t your fault,” Star said. “We all said that Wylanda was being a butt to you and that she deserved to be attacked. Maybe that’ll be a lesson to her to be nicer from now on.” She stared at Cloudy, her blue eyes dark and thoughtful. “And also remember what I told you, Cloudy—us telling Mommy and Daddy anything that you’re dealing with won’t teach you to speak up for yourself.”

Cloudy smiled, but the smile was forced. She felt as though she’d been slapped. “Um, well, okay.”

Just then, a young, dark-skinned girl came out of a small white house next to the school. She wore a short brown dress and a gold filigree bracelet with tiny roses painted on it was around her wrist. She walked over to the bus stop, but halted when she saw Star slumped against the sign. “Um, can you please excuse me?” the girl timidly asked.

Star jumped a little and stared at the girl. “What? Oh, um, I mean, sure.” She moved a few feet away to make room.

“Thanks,” the girl shyly responded. She glanced curiously at the two sisters for a moment, her brown eyes filled with interest. Cloudy and Star eyes her just as intently. Then the girl asked, “Have we met?”

“No,” Star conveyed.

Cloudy shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“Oh. Well, my name’s Miriam Capperdale,” the girl said. She pushed back a lock of her wavy hair. “I’m seven.”

“Well, my name is Star and this is my sister, Cloudy. She’s the prophesied Star Warrior who is to save Dreamland from disaster,” Star explained, opening her blue eyes wide.

Miriam’s eyes shone. She was clearly intrigued. “Really? Wow! Oh my gosh! I can’t believe it! At last, you’re here! We’ve all been waiting for a really long time!”

“Well, your waiting has paid off,” Star dramatically declared. “She has come!”

“Okay, okay,” Cloudy giggled. “Don’t overdo it, Star. But yes, I am the Prophesied One. It’s nice to meet you, Miriam.” She smiled as she glanced at Miriam’s bracelet. “And I especially love your bracelet.”

“Thanks,” Miriam replied, turning it on her wrist. “It was a gift from my grandmother before she died. She gave it to me to remind me to always be grateful for everything we have. I value it highly.”

A gust of wind suddenly blew past and Miriam’s dress twisted around her. “Oh, drat!” Miriam grumbled as she yanked at the dress to straighten it out.

For the first time, Cloudy noted that Miriam’s dress was worn and had patches in it. The thin cloth seemed to provide little to no protection against the chilliness of the gusts of wind. Miriam noticed Cloudy staring at her clothing, and Cloudy quickly looked away.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Miriam sighed. “Yes, my clothing is not the best. It came from the thrift store, in fact.”

“The thrift store?” Star repeated in disbelief. “Are you a hobo or something?”

“Star!” Cloudy hissed, mortified. She kicked her sister. “Be quiet! She’s not a hobo!”

“Of course I’m not,” said Miriam, sounding offended. “I live in a house, in case you haven’t noticed. That one.” She pointed to the white house she had come out of.

“Then why are you dressed like a poor person?” asked Star.

Miriam glared at Star. “Because I am poor. Obviously.” She crossed her arms and looked away.

“Oh,” was all Star could say. She felt like an idiot. First she had called Miriam a hobo and then asked a dumb question about Miriam being poor. She had made Miriam feel like a total loser and that wasn’t what she had meant to do at all.

Cloudy gave Miriam a sympathetic look. “Are you having any trouble in your family?” she asked. “Not trying to pry,” she hurriedly added. “I just want to help you, is all.”

Miriam nodded sadly and turned to face Cloudy. “We are having some problems. My dad’s in the hospital because he got into a terrible car accident last month. The doctors aren’t even sure he’s going to make it. And on top of that, Mom can’t pay our bills on the house. If she doesn’t pay them before the month is out, we’ll lose our house!”

“Oh, no!” Cloudy gasped. “That can’t happen! It just can’t!”

“We have to do something,” Star said. “Maybe we can ask our parents and our friends to donate some money to your mom. Or maybe we can sell something. Or maybe we can. . .”

Miriam held up a hand and smiled. “It’s nice of you to try to help me, but this is up to the Lord now. I trust He’ll do what is best.”

Star was astounded by the girl’s response. “Wait, are you a Christian?” she asked, astonished.

Miriam nodded. “My whole family is Christian.”

“Our whole family is Christian too,” Cloudy said. “Although Sniper doesn’t really act like he’s one.”

“Who’s Sniper?” Miriam asked.

“Our oldest brother,” Cloudy said.

“Oh.” Miriam pushed back a lock of her black hair and slung her satchel over her shoulder. “Is he mean?”

“Mean enough to save someone’s life,” Star piped in.

“Shh!” Cloudy scolded. “Pipe down, will you, Star?”

Miriam laughed. “Well, he certainly sounds unique. I’d like to meet your family sometime, Cloudy.”

“And I’d like to meet yours,” Cloudy said.

Star cleared her throat and asked in a friendly tone,” So, Miriam, where do you go to school?”

“The public school a few miles down the road,” Miriam answered. She looked up to the sky. “It’s not the best, but I do have some friends there.”

“Really?” Cloudy’s eyes glowed. “Perfect!”

Miriam blinked, startled. “Uh, pardon me?”

“Oh, I guess I didn’t tell you,” Cloudy said. “You see, I live in that house right across from here, and my parents are hosting a Thanksgiving feast there next Thursday. Lots of people will be there. You and your family and friends are invited.”

“Awesome,” Miriam said. “Wait, does it cost anything to get in?”

“Nope. It’s free of charge,” Star said.

“Cool. Then count me in,” Miriam said. “I’ll tell my mom after I get home from school.”

The big yellow school bus pulled up at that moment. “Oh, I’ve gotta go. See you guys later!” Miriam called, and hopped onto the bus. The doors slid shut and the bus pulled away into the cold afternoon, Miriam waving to them from the window. Cloudy and Star waved in return.

Star blew out her breath. “Well, that went well.”

Cloudy just gave her the death stare. “Hmph.”

“What?” demanded Star. “Why are you glaring at me like that?”

“Because you need to learn to shut your mouth,” Cloudy snapped. “You made poor Miriam feel like dirt!”

“Why, just because I asked if she was poor?” Star returned.

“No, because you basically insinuated she was a destitute, homeless outcast,” Cloudy growled. “That’s going too far.”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make it sound like that, but I’ve never seen a girl dressed so plainly as her.”

“So what if she wears rags and goes to the worst school on the planet?” Cloudy asked. “She’s a nice girl.”

“I know,” Star answered sheepishly.

“Hey, girls!” Sniper called, banging open the double doors and bounding toward them with his brothers in tow. “Guess what? We got fifty-three people to come!”

“Awesome!” Cloudy said happily. “Let’s see, thirty-four plus fifty-three equals. . .” She paused a second to do some mental math. “. . .equals eighty-seven!”

“Don’t forget these peoples’ families as well as Miriam and her friends,” Star reminded her.

“Oh, yeah.”

“Wait, you lost me,” Yodi said. “Who’s Miriam?”

“Miriam Capperdale. She’s a girl who lives next door to this school. She’s coming to the feast and bringing her friends,” Star said.

“Miriam Capperdale, eh? Never heard of her,” said Sharkell.

“Of course not. You haven’t met her,” Star said with a snort of contempt. “But she’s very kind and Christian like us.”

“Radical!” Pancake cheered. “I have to meet this girl!”

“Well, you’ll have your chance soon enough,” Star chuckled. “Thanksgiving’s right around the corner.”

Cloudy looked up to the sky and smiled softly. She was glad Miriam had taken such a liking to them, but was concerned for her family. Cloudy decided to talk to her parents that night to see what they could do to help Miriam.

Cloudy heard Star mention the words “Wylanda Coven” and instantly tuned back in to the conversation.

“Hey, you boys didn’t invite Wylanda Coven, did you?” Star asked suspiciously.

Sniper pretended to gag.

“Seriously?” Waffle said, raising an eyebrow. “I hope you’re joking. I’d throw myself into a pit full of poisonous scorpions before I’d invite Wylanda to our Thanksgiving feast.”

“I know. I just wanted to make sure,” Star said. She grinned. “Imagine if she did get invited!”

“She’s ruin the event before it even started!” Sniper declared.

“Yeah, I bet she’d gorge herself on the turkey,” Yodi giggled. “Or maybe she’d say she’s the Thanksgiving queen and make everyone do exactly as she says.”

“Gross,” Star muttered. “I’m just glad she’s not invited. It’s bad enough we have to be with her in school. Just for once I’d like to not see her anywhere near us.”

“I’d like it if she wasn’t anywhere near us at all, but that won’t happen unless she moves away or dies,” Sharkell said lightly.

Cloudy gasped in shock. “Sharkell! Are you wishing death to Wylanda?”

“No, of course not,” Sharkell said. “I’m just saying I wish she would stay away from us for good.”

Just then, the students began pouring in droves into the school. From where she stood, Cloudy could hear the faint ringing of the bell announcing the start of class. “Let’s go!” Sniper sang, dashing toward the front doors, his brothers and sisters right on his tail.

 

* * * * *

 

That night, Cloudy’s family sat around the dinner table eating a delicious supper of chicken, spaghetti and meatballs, and the leftovers of the cake that Cloudy had helped make yesterday.

“So, children, have a good day at school?” Springtime asked.

“Oh, yes,” Sniper mumbled, stuffing spaghetti and meatballs into his mouth. “It was so awesome! We had the best day ever!” He gulped his lemonade down, spilling most of it onto his chest. Then he set the glass down and licked the lemonade around his mouth, the sweet liquid dripping down his chin. Spaghetti sauce lathered his face and a noodle was draped over his nose. Cloudy and Star burst into giggles at his appearance and Yodi goggled while Sharkell, Pancake, and Waffle looked away in disgust, curling their lips in distaste.

Sniper sighed deeply and grinned, his teeth covered with sauce. “Boy, this is a good dinner, Mommy.”

“Eww! Sniper, that’s absolutely revolting!” Springtime exclaimed.

“What is?” wondered Sniper.

“Look in the wall mirror over there,” Showerstorm ordered.

Sniper did and gasped when he saw his reflection. “Oh, man! Is that really me?!”

“Yes,” Springtime answered dryly. Then she couldn’t contain herself. She burst into uncontrollable laughter, nearly falling off her chair. The puppies laughed too and so did Showerstorm, though he tried to pretend he wasn’t.

“Um, I’ll be right back,” Sniper said, jumping from his seat and racing to the bathroom. The puppies started laughing all over again.

“Okay, everyone, settle down,” Showerstorm chuckled.

Cloudy flashed a smile and took a bite of cake. She had confess that while Sniper was annoying, he was also a really good mealtime entertainer. Not to mention the class clown and the practical jokester and. . .

“Cloudy, did you hear what I asked you?” Springtime’s voice cut into Cloudy’s thoughts. Startled, Cloudy looked up at her mother.

“Um, I’m sorry, Mommy, I didn’t hear you. I was thinking about something else.”

“I asked, how many people did you kids invite today?” asked Springtime.

Cloudy couldn’t give her an exact number since she didn’t know how many people were actually coming. “Over a hundred,” was all she said.

“Awesome. Your father and I invited a few people too.”

“Who did you invite?” Star wondered.

“Your father invited a few of his coworkers down at the bank,” Springtime said. “I went down to the mall earlier today and invited a few kids and their families. Oh, and this woman named Scazzarda Stellarum is coming with her son. I also ran into Shannon Coven and invited her too, as well as . .”

“Shannon who?!” Cloudy exclaimed, her eyes full of shock.

Springtime turned her head and gave her a surprised look. “Shannon Coven, honey. You know the Covens; their daughter goes to your school, she told me.”

Sharkell slapped his forehead with his paw and groaned loudly.

“NOOOO!” Yodi yelled.

“What’s the matter?” Showerstorm asked.

“Oh, nothing,” Cloudy said quickly. She wasn’t ready to tell her parents that Wylanda was a bully. “We-We were just surprised that you invited the Covens. I mean, I assumed a wealthy family like them wouldn’t want to attend out meager feast.”

Springtime stared at Cloudy as if she were an alien from outer space. “Cloudy, what are you talking about? Why can’t I invite them just because our feast is meager? It’s not about the feast. It’s about friendship and love between stranger and friend. Don’t forget that.”

Cloudy ran a paw across the smooth mahogany tabletop. Why could she just never seem to explain to her mother a lot of the things on her mind?

“Oh, Mommy,” Star said, tugging at her mother’s leg. Springtime looked down at her, a mild expression of puzzlement crossing her face. “We met this Christian girl named Miriam Capperdale at the bus stop today, and she lives next door to our school. She said her mother was going to lose her house because the bills can’t be paid, and they have to be paid before the month is out.” She sat back in her seat. “Can’t we help them?”

Springtime’s eyes clouded. “I don’t know,” she said slowly. “I never met this family. I don’t even know if Miriam was telling the truth or not.”

“But she said. . .”

“People can say anything they want to, darling, but it doesn’t make it true,” Springtime returned, a little severely. “Don’t fall for everything you hear.”

“But Mommy!” Star burst out. “Her dress was old and patched and she goes to a public school! Aren’t public schools free?”

“Yes, but what does that have to do with. . .”

“If public schools are free,” Star broke in, “then maybe her mother sent her there because she was unable to pay for a proper school.”

“Or she doesn’t want to bother spending any money,” Springtime shot back.

“Okay, stop,” Showerstorm said firmly. “Star, we will check in with this family tomorrow. If they are everything you say they are, then we will try to help them. But if not, let this be a lesson to you children not to be gullible. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Star sighed, lowering her head.

Cloudy was worried. What if Miriam and her family were lying about who they really were?

 

* * * * *

 

The next afternoon, Cloudy walked in the front door with her siblings in tow. Ignoring them, she set the picnic basket down and walked into the kitchen. There she saw her parents by the stove, talking to one another in low voices. Their tones were a mixture of concern and excitement, but Cloudy was unable to hear a single sentence of what they were saying.

Springtime looked up at the moment and saw Cloudy. Instantly, she stopped talking and smiled cheerfully. “Hello, dear!” she said.

“What’s happening?” Cloudy asked, rushing up to them.

Showerstorm chuckled slightly. “I guess Star was right.”

“Huh?” Cloudy was puzzled.

“I should have known she was telling the truth,” he went on.

“Can you talk in English and please tell me what’s going on?” Cloudy begged. “Telling the truth about what?”

“Miriam, of course,” Springtime said. “Why, we went over to her house this afternoon while you were having your picnic in the park, and you should have seen her house. It was tiny as heck and the walls were dirty and the paint was chipped, and the back of the roof looked pretty bad too. The electricity doesn’t work right, either.”

“Not to mention we checked online today and found that indeed the bank is demanding heavy fines from Miriam’s mother,” Showerstorm sighed. “Star was right. I should have known.”

“Ohh, is there nothing we can do?!” Cloudy exclaimed in frustration, stamping her foot. “Miriam can’t live on the street and neither can her mother!”

“Calm down, my dear,” Springtime said gently. “We have an idea, but we’ll keep it secret for now. I don’t want to reveal it lest it doesn’t work, you know?”

Cloudy wasn’t sure she did know, but she said, “Yes, Mommy.”

Springtime hugged her daughter. “My dear, the Lord is with the Capperdales and He is with us. If He wills it, Miriam and her mother will not be kicked out of their house. He will reveal the answer in time. But we must trust Him because it is not in our hands—or maybe paws is the better term. Understand?”

Cloudy looked wonderingly at her mother, and she suddenly found herself beaming. “Yes, Mommy, I understand.” She did a little dance around the room. “Now I really can’t wait for Thanksgiving!”

Books

Book 1: Thankful Hearts

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Chapter Two: The Meaning of Thanksgiving

 

Cloudy quickly hurried into her house and slammed the front door shut, abandoning her backpack by the umbrella stand as she did so. “Mommy!” she barked. “Mommy, I’m home!”

Springtime glided from the kitchen and gave her daughter a welcoming hug. “Hello, dear. Where were you? All your siblings got home way before you.”

Cloudy shifted her weight from foot to foot, suddenly nervous. If all my siblings got home before me, then that must mean one of them must have told about the fight with Wylanda. And that means I’m gonna be in for the biggest beating of my life. But how can I possibly explain why I did what I did? “Um, it’s a long story. But to put it bluntly, I met this new student named Arrow.”

Springtime eyed her daughter with a kind smile. “Arrow, huh? You meean the boy from Leupochena?” Cloudy nodded. “Yes, I met his parents a few months ago. How nice that he goes to your school! Did you make friends with him?”

Cloudy furrowed her brow in puzzlement, wondering why her mother wasn’t mentioning the fight with Wylanda. “I did,” Cloudy said, dropping her eyes to the green linoleum, “but I have to confess that I sort of like him.”

Springtime raised an eyebrow. “Ohh. You mean ‘like’ as in you’re in love with him?”

“Ye-ah,” Cloudy said, not sure whether to be embarrassed or flattered. “Now don’t assume he’s my boyfriend or anything,” she quickly added, “because he’s not. We’re just really good friends. I learned he’s a Christian and that he’s practically the same age as me.”

“Wow,” Springtime murmured, straightening Cloudy’s off-kilter bow. “He sounds like a really kind boy.”

“Oh, he is! He is!” exclaimed Cloudy, leaping up and down. “He’s probably the sweetest boy I’ve ever met.”

“Maybe so,” Springtime said. A mischievous grin spread over her face. “I’m okay with you guys visiting one another, but no kissing, okay?”

The corners of Cloudy’s mouth tightened into a frown. She was clearly not amused. “Give me a break, Mommy. I wouldn’t do that.”

Springtime giggled and gave her daughter another hug. “I know, darling. I know. Now why don’t you come with me to the kitchen and help me make a cake for dessert tonight?”

Cloudy obliged, though she was confused. She had been expecting to be well-scolded by her mother about attacking Wylanda and receiving a lecture on respecting others. But Springtime still mentioned nothing about the incident. Could it be, Cloudy thought, that she doesn’t know? And if so, why did no one tell?

In a few minutes, flour, sugar, eggs, frosting, and other cooking articles were spread on the counter. Springtime gazed at the cookbook and asked Cloudy to hand her whatever needed to go into the wooden mixing bowl. Cloudy worked cheerfully and willingly, but her mind was still filled with the Thanksgiving story. She was dying to know the meaning of Thanksgiving, but had been too afraid to ask Mrs. Ivy.

Cloudy raised her head and looked at Springtime, who was intent on measuring out five cups of flour and dumping it in the bowl. Cloudy took a deep breath and made up her mind. She would ask her mother.

“Mommy?” Cloudy asked, her voice small.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Springtime patiently said.

Cloudy tapped her paw on the counter for a few seconds, then replied, “In history today, my teacher was telling me about this holiday called Thanksgiving.”

Springtime’s eyes lit up. “Ah, yes! Thanksgiving!” Straightening her apron, she narrated, “About three hundred years ago, the Pilgrims left their old home in Leudon and sailed on the Moonflower for sixty-five days before they landed in the New World. Many died of disease or malnutrition that first winter, but come spring, and Indian named Sumosot helped them, as well as Squinto and Missisoit. And that fall, they had the biggest feast probably ever known in all of Dreamlandian history.” She paused and asked, “Can you hand me two eggs?”

Cloudy nosed them across the counter to her. “Mrs. Ivy said the Pilgrims left their old home in order to worship God freely.”

Springtime nodded as she cracked open the eggs. “That’s right. You see, the king at that time was King James I. He was a brutal tyrant who told the Pilgrims that they had to do what he said and to stay with the Church of Anglen. However, the Pilgrims believed that the Church of Anglen taught many things that weren’t taught in the Bible. Some of those Pilgrims called themselves ‘Separatists’ because they broke ties with the Church of Anglen. King James was furious with their decision and even threw some of them in prison just because they believed differently than he did. He didn’t want them to choose what to believe in.”

Cloudy nodded and absently passed her mother the bag of sugar. “Interesting. I didn’t know about King James. He sounds very forceful.”

“Oh, he was. Especially when it came to religion,” answered Springtime, dumping four cups of sugar in the mixing bowl.

“Were there any mean people on the Moonflower?” Cloudy asked.

Springtime picked up the eggbeater and swirled it around in the cake mix. “Yes. Some sailors hated the Pilgrims for believing in God and praying to Him. In fact, one of those sailors talked often about throwing the Pilgrims to the sharks, but he died of a dreadful disease and was the first to be thrown overboard. Some people believed the hand of God caused him to die.”

“That’s weird,” Cloudy said, “but sort of cool at the same time.” She passed her mother some milk. “Who else was on the ship?”

“Well, let’s see. There was Willie Bronford, the governor; Milan Stondash, the military leader; Elder Brewston, the religious leader of the Pilgrims; Captain Johannes, the captain of the Moonflower; and Jon Howard. He fell overboard during a violent storm but was rescued. The Pilgrims took his rescue as a sign from God that they would make it to the New World.” Springtime took the eggbeater out of the mix. “While all the Pilgrims got along well for the most part, they were not in agreement when it came to landing at the Huckson River.”

“What do you mean?”

Springtime tested the batter to see how thick and smooth it was. “You see, Cloudy, there were two groups of Pilgrims: the Saints and the Strangers. The Strangers wanted to land at the Huckson River, but dangerous shoals on the shoreline prevented that, so they had to sail in a different direction. Needless to say, the Strangers were not happy, and a mutiny nearly occurred before Willie Bronford drew up something called the Moonflower Agreement. It basically said the Pilgrims would all stick together no matter what.”

“Wow!” Cloudy breathed. “My teacher didn’t give this much detail!”

“She’s just trying to keep your knowledge of this spectacular event to your grade level, honey.” Springtime picked up a container of cinnamon and dumped a little into a teaspoon. “Anyway, the Pilgrims all landed at Pimath Plantation and built the Common House that winter, but many people died that first winter of cold, disease, poor nutrition, lack of fresh water, and maybe despair too. But when spring arrived, and Indian named Sumosot befriended the Pilgrims and helped them. He brought Squinto, another Indian, after a few days, and Squinto showed the Pilgrims how to plant corn using herring, a type of fish. Later, Missisoit, his tribe, and the Pilgrims formed a peace treaty with one another. And that autumn, the Pilgrims and the Indians got together for a huge banquet. And that day became known as Thanksgiving.”

Cloudy pondered all this information. “But I don’t understand why we celebrate Thanksgiving,” she said. “What’s the meaning of it?”

Springtime finished mixing all the ingredients together and was now scooping the cake batter into a small round bowl. “Cloudy, we celebrate Thanksgiving so we can remember to be grateful for everything we have. We give thanks for everything God’s given us and what He’s done for us.” She put the eggbeater into the sink and used a butter knife to smooth the top of the mix. “The meaning of Thanksgiving is this, Cloudburst: Be thankful for what you have, big or small, because the Lord has blessed you with it.”

Cloudy stared at her mom as Springtime popped the cake into the oven to bake, then cleaned off the counter. Springtime apparently had learned to be grateful for what she had. She never grumbled about what she didn’t have. Cloudy couldn’t remember a time her mother was ungrateful about anything. I guess what Daddy always says is true, then, Cloudy thought. “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.” That meant, her father would explain, that if life threw something hard or unappealing your direction, make the best out of it. Be grateful for what you do have and focus on the bright side instead of sitting in the dark and stewing about how unfair life was.

Springtime guided Cloudy to the sink and helped her rinse the egg yoke and cake mix off her paws, then wiped down the counter with disinfecting wipes. When she finished, Cloudy said softly, “Thanks, Mommy, for telling me about Thanksgiving. I never knew so much about it before.”

“You’re welcome, honey.” Springtime smiled softly. “If you ever want to talk to anyone, your father and I are here. You can tell us anything.”

Cloudy nodded and snuggled up to her mother. Then a question popped into her mind. “Mommy, are we going to do anything for Thanksgiving this year?” she asked.

Springtime chuckled and nodded. “Yes, dear. Your father and I have been talking about hosting a feast on our property and inviting as many people we can, friend or stranger.”

Cloudy started in surprise. “Whoa! You mean we’re just going to be inviting random strangers to our feast?”

“Everyone is welcome, my dear, and who knows? They may respond to the message of the gospel if they haven’t already,” Springtime said cheerfully. “You and your siblings can help. You can invite people from your school, starting tomorrow. Sound good?”

“For sure!” Cloudy barked in excitement and wriggled with happiness. Springtime laughed as she watched her daughter leap about and almost upset the trashcan. This was getting too intriguing! Thanksgiving was on its way!