Small and Snowball

Once upon a time there was a small gray mouse who lived in a hidden
drawer in an old desk that sat by the fire in an old red house. For a
while there were happy children in the old house, running here and
there, spilling crumbs now and then, laughing, singing, and sometimes
sitting quietly by the fire. But they had gone home to their own
house, and forgotten all about the small gray mouse.

On the day that Small Gray Mouse found himself in a large dark
backpack, on the floor of an up stairs bedroom, he felt slightly
dizzy, a bit confused, and VERY hungry. How in the world did he get
up all of those stairs!? (he was, you will recall, a very, very small
mouse.) How was he to get out of the backpack and home to his cozy
hidden desk drawer? How was he to find any crumbs? He scurried about
looking of a way to climb out of the backpack. The inside was a
loose, slippery material that he could not get a good grip on. It was
tall. He was, of course, small. What to do? He spied a zipper on a
pocket near the top of the backpack. Oh! If only he could get
there! He could then hold onto the zipper and swing himself over the
edge and out! But how to get to the zipper? He thought and thought,
and, as thinking is such a very tiring thing to do Small yawned a
large yawn, rubbed his eyes, stretched, turned over, and fell asleep.
In his dreaming, Small herd soft scratching sounds, and a few
sniffles. He woke up wondering what it had been that he was dreaming,
when he heard the sniffly scratches again! He turned around to peer
at the top opening of the backpack, wondering if whatever was making
those noises was friendly, when he bumped into a soft, warm fluffy
white scratching, siffling…………..rabbit! Small was so startled that he
jumped straight up in the air, almost as high as the zipper! But he
had no thoughts of the zipper now! Landing back into the bottom of
the backpack he crept cautiously toward the rabbit. “Hi,” whispered
Small. “Who are you and how did you get here?” “Sniffle, sniffle,
sniffle,” said the rabbit, backing up away from Small. “What?” asked
Small. “Sniffle, snillfe……….my………..name……….sniffle, sniffle………..is
Snowball.” Slowly inching closer to Snowball, Small asked, “Is it
snowing?” This made Snowball laugh, which made her feel not so scared
anymore so she said, “Oh, No! Not that kind of Snowball! I am a
rabbit. I came from that book. And there it was! Small had been so
busy trying to get out of the backpack he had not noticed the book
lying against the side of the backpack. He read, “Annie and
Snowball.” ‘Hey!” Cried Small, “how did you get out of the book?”
“I popped,” said Snowball. “popped?” Asked Small. “How do you pop?
“ “I don’t know,” replied Sowball slowly, “I just did.” “Well who
is Annie?” Small asked. "Can she pop out and help us get out of
here? I AM HUNGRY!” “I don’t think she can, “ Snowball said. “She
is a person.” “So?” Small asked. “So I don’t think she can pop.”
They both sighed, looking at each other. “I’m hungry, too,” said
Snowball. “Maybe that’s why I popped.” They were both quiet, sitting
there, thinking.

After a moment, Small cleared his throat, looked around and said,
“well, we’ve got to think of something.” “Yes,” Snowball sniffled.
“Look,” said Small, “you are quite large. Do you think if I climbed
up on your back, I could jump to catch that zipper?” “Well……” said
Snowball, “ My fur is very tender. When Annie brushes me, she does so
very gently. Do you think it would hurt?” “I don’t think so,”
replied Small, “I am quite small.” “Yes.” Said Snowball, “you are.”
And with a sniffle, sniffle, scratch, she said’ “Let’s try!”

Snowball positioned herself just under the zipper, squeezed her eyes
tight, took a deep breath and said, “go.” Small tried to climb. He
fell back. He tried again. And fell back again. “There’s nothing
to hold on to except your fur, and I don’t want to hurt you,” Small
said. “What should I do?” “Try taking just a small pawfull and see
if that helps. I will try to be brave.” “ok,” said Small, “here we
go.” Gently, gently taking a very small pawfull of the softest
whitest fur Small had ever seen, and placing one back paw on Snowball,
ready to climb, he asked, “ready?” “Yes.” Whispered Snowball.
Small pulled ever so lightly and did get one foot up but instantly
Snowball screamed! (rabbits DO scream) Small let go at once and
dropped back to the floor. Snowball cried and cried and all Small
could think to say was, “Oh, Snowball! Oh Snowball!”

Snowball turned away from Small and cried into a dark corner of the
backpack, and Small sat in another dark corner, and listened to her.
They both felt terrible.

After a while Small spoke. “We’ve got to think. What would the
children do to get out? Children are good thinkers. What would they
do?” “They would ask for help from their friends.” “They would use
their arms and legs.” “They would call for help.” “They would see
what was around to use.” “They would build something.” “They would
KEEP TRYING.” "They would...........Wait an minute!” Small said,
jumping up out of his dark corner, “go back……they would build
something…….they would see what was around to use…….” “We tried
that,” moaned Snowball. “We used me!” “I know, I know, “ said Small,
suddenly busy scampering around every corner of the back pack,
suddenly excited about his idea.

What was in the backpack? One small gray mouse. One very fluffy
white rabbit. But what else? “Look !” said Snowball, suddenly, not
even sniffeling now, “What’s that shinny thing over there?” Small
slowly, quietly, went toward a long golden pointy thing. Was it
alive? Was it a snake? (mice are particularly afraid of snakes……)
But Small was determined. He called to it, “Hey!” He called again
“you!” When there was no reply he very lightly reached out a paw and
touched it. Nothing happened. He touched it again. Still nothing.
“What is it?” Snowball whispered. “Idon’t know.” Small whispered
back. “Let me see,” said Snowball, VERY bravely, and together they
pulled on the thing until it came loose. “Oh!” laughed Snowball. “It
is a knitting needle! Annie is learning to knit. She wants to knit
me a little pink sweater. It is a knitting needle!”

How can a small gray mouse and a fluffy white rabbit escape from a
large backpack with only a knitting needle? Any ideas, anyone?


“Let’s throw it at the top opening and then climb up it.” Suggested
Small. “But what if we throw it right on out?” asked Snowball.
“Well…………..”said Small, thinking, always thinking. “You could hold on
to one end and I will throw the other end and then we won’t throw it
right on out.” “OK,” shrugged Snowball, “it’s worth a try.” They
tried. And they tried, and they tried. It is a hard thing to do – to
throw a knitting needle out of a backpack when you are a small, gray
mouse. A few of their throws actually worked! One pointy end of the
needle went out, while Snowball held fast to the other end. But when
Small tried to climb out, the needle came crashing back down into the
backpack, and they had to start again.

“My arm’s tired,” sighed Small. My paw’s cramping,” complained
Snowball, and she backed up to the edge of the backpack to sit down
for a rest. “Yikes!” she yelled as she leaped up from her sitting
place, “What was that?” “What was what?” asked Small, wierily. I
sat on something cold and hard. “What was it?” asked Small. “This,”
said Snowball, holding up a very strange, black, twisty, metal
thing. “Is that another kind of knitting needle?” Small asked. “I
don’t think so,” replied Snowball. I’ve never seen anything quite
like it before. Annie doesn’t have anything like it.” “It’s twisty
and heavy and look! This end clamps!” “So? “ questioned Snowball.
“Look! Look!” Small was almost shouting now, he was so excited with
an idea about the new thing. Talking and working rapidly Small said,
almost to himself, “If we clamp one end of the knitting needle on
here, and hold tight to the other end like before……….if we can throw
this black twisty thing out of the backpack, it just might be heavy
enough to hold the needle while we climb out!” “But it is so heavy!
Can you throw it? Can I hold on to the other end? We are both
already tired…..” “We can! We can! We can do it, Snowball! I feel
strong with excitement! Come on!! Grab your end! Let’s TRY!”

It took 6 throws before Small could get The Thing high enough. With
each try Small had to dash to Snowball to help her hold the weight of
The Thing. And for 5 of those throws, if fell right back in, almost
knocking Snowball on the head! But on the 6th throw……on the 6th
throw, it went flying over the top edge of the backpack. With both
Small and Snowball holding as tight as tight to the other end of the
knitting needle they sat down to catch their breath, and decide what
to do next. Small thought that Snowball should climb up first. But
Snowball thought that Small should climb up first because mice are
such good climbers. “In fact,” said Snowball, sniffling again,
“rabbits don’t climb at all.” “But I can’t go without YOU,” wailed
Small. “Whatever will we do?” Whatever indeed.

Well, the end of the story is, that as Snowball cried and Small tried
to comfort her and both of them watched their dreams of food fade
away, a large brown dog wondered into the bedroom. She was always
looking for the children. Every day she walked around the old red
house, looking. On this day she was especially excited because she
had heard rustling and bumping noises coming from the upstairs
bedroom. Could it be the children? She bound into the room with such
joy, and being large, as she was, she didn’t really watch where she
was going and she ran spang bang into a large black backpack. It fell
over onto it’s side and she was suddenly confronted by the sight of a
very white, very fluffy rabbit and a tiny gray mouse. Everyone stood
still and stared at each other. Small was terrified, and ran to hide
behind the backpack. Snowball, who couldn’t run, or think that
quickly, stayed still. She was remembering her friend Mudge. She was
remembering Mudge’s licks, and naps when she cuddled into his large,
protective body. She looked at this dog, and smiled. The dog gave
her a big, wet lick. It tickled a bit, as Mudge’s licks always did,
and she giggled. At the sound of his friend’s laughter, Small peeked
out from behind the backpack. He saw the dog lie down so Snowball
could climb up onto his back. He saw them head toward the stairs.
“Wait!” cried Small. The big brown dog stopped, turned, and saw
Small. She gave him a sniff, and before she knew what was happening,
Small grabbed a hold of the dog’s tail and swing himself up. In the
blink of an eye, Small was cuddled in, next to Snowball and the dog
walked slowly and carefully down the stairs. He delivered Snowball to
a shelf that was full of books about a rabbit named Snowball and her
little girl, Annie. And he took Small to the hidden drawer in the old
desk that sat by the fire in the old red house Then, he sniffed
around for awhile, looking for a crumb or two of something, and, with
a sigh, lay down by the fire.

Midwife Margaret

Once upon a time there was a little girl named Sophie. She had bright red hair that did whatever it wanted, rosy pink cheeks, sparkly green eyes, and was going to be a Big Sister. All through the long weeks of waiting for the baby, who Sophie called JellyBean, to grow big enough to come out, Sophie went with Mama and Daddy to the visits with the mid-wife. Margaret. Sophie liked Margaret, and thought that maybe she might be a mid-wife, once she grew big enough. As summer turned from green to gold, the air getting crispy cold now and then, Jelly Bean grew bigger, Mama walked slower, Daddy cooked more suppers, and Sophie played mid-wife. Sometimes she was the mid-wife, delivering her dolls. Sometimes she was the Mama, a baby doll under her t-shirt. Sometimes she was the big sister, jumping up and down with expectation, singing songs of babies born and unborn.

One Saturday afternoon, Daddy came into to Sophie's room, which she now called Sophie's Birthing Center, and, after waiting quietly for Sophie's doll, Esma, to finish pushing her baby, BunnyBoo, out said, "Well done, Esma. What a cute Bunny you have!" Then, "Sophie, want to help me paint the baby's room?" "Do we have a baby's room?" asked Sophie. "Well that's the thing," said Daddy, "not yet. You know the big closet in our room? The one Mom uses to store all the stuff in the world?" "yeah." "We thought if we emptied it out, took off the doors, and painted it pretty, it would be a nice room for Jelly Bean." "Daaaaddyyyy," Sophie said with a sigh, "you can't keep a baby in a CLOSET!" "Of course not," laughed Daddy, ' the BABY will always be with us, but the baby's STUFF could be in the closet." "Stuff?" said Sophie. "Yeah, you know, changing table, drawers for onsies, and diapers, and socks, and snow suits. We'll get out your old baby toys and books, set them up on shelves, or, Mama thinks baskets on the floor would be nice." "Come on!" Sophie called over her shoulder as she ran down the hall, "where will we put all the stuff in the world"

"The thing is," Daddy was saying to Mama as they all took a mid-morning bagel and tea break, "a lot of it can be thrown out. A few things could go to the community center garage sale, and MOST of it is Christmas. It's just about time to be getting those things out anyway, Christmas, you know, IS just around the corner, and over Christmas break I can build those shelves in the basement we've been talking about and then put the Christmas things down there." " Honey," Mama said, "over Christmas break you are having a baby." "Right-o!" grinned Dad, and we don't want to put THAT on a shelf !" Mama laughed at the idea, and went back to her library work, while Sophie licked the last of the strawberry jam off of her plate. "What color will we paint baby's closet room?" Sophie asked. "I don't know," answered Dad, "what do you think?" "wellllllllllllllll................it's hard to choose ! My favorite color is always different..........yesterday was pink.......today is chocolate brown........tomorrow is alredy planning to be blue......." "Let's go down to the paint store and get some samples. That might help us decide."

"Alison!" Dad called up the stairs, after he and Sophie were dressed, helmeted, and ready to go, "we're off to the paint store!" "Take a blanket for Sophie!" Mom called back," the trailer will be COLD." "Got it!" Dad said, "come on, Alexander, off to the wilds!" "Why did you call me THAT?" "Alexander? Because he was a great explorer of the arctic, and you are so bundled up YOU could be exploring the arctic!" "OK!!!" Sophie laughed and climbed into the trailer behind Daddy's bike. Daddy bent down to tuck the blanket all around Sophie, adjusted her helmet, snaped the seat belt harness and they were off. Once in the store, Daddy talked to the store guy about how to get the walls ready to paint and Sophie collected the color samples they would choose from. By the time Dad was finished talking Sophie had 43 ideas. "Oh, Soph......" Dad started, "aw, let her keep 'em" the store guy said. "They're free." "Ok, " said Dad, picking up his sand paper and brushes and can of primer, "let's hit the road, Alex."

Back at home Sophie spread all of the colors out on the floor of Mama's study. FIrst, in rainbow order. Then in the order of best liked to least liked. Then in boy-colors and girl-colors. "Daddy loves lavender," Mama commented, "and isn't brown your favorite today?" "yeah," Sophie said, thinking. And she sorted, once more, by what-goes-good-together. "How can we ever CHOOSE?" Sophie wailed! They are all so BEAUTIFUL!!!."

"Green, the lighter one," said Mama. "Yellow," said Dad, any of them. "How about the pale blue?" Mama said. "Or the dark red? That would be WILD!" said Dad, holding up the red sample piece. "Hey, pumpkin, you're not saying anything," Dad said, both of them looking at her. Sophie was thinking. "Sophie....????" "We don't know what the baby likes.......we don't know if it's a boy, or a girl.......we don't know if it likes red, or yellow, or black, or what." "That's right," said Mama, "but we sure like a lot of colors!" "Poka-dots!" Said Sophie. "What?" Mom and Dad said together. "Poka-dots!" Sophie said again. "EVERYONE likes poka-dots and they could all be a different color ! Look !" Sophie ran to her mother's bed side table (remember? The one that fell over the other day,) and pulled some scotch tape (CAREFULLY!) from the drawer. Quickly she taped her color samples all over the walls of the closet-room. "TA-DA!" she said, flinging an arm toward the room like a circus ring leader.
"Not bad," said Dad. "I like it!" said Mom. "Our room is so plain. This would really make baby's room a focal point." "What's a focal point?" asked Sophie, but she didn't really care, or listen to the answer. She was re arranging the paint samples on the wall.

The following week the family went together to Margaret's. It was time for an ultra sound to see how close the baby was to being ready. "Like peeking at the cookies through the oven window!" said Sophie, "to see if they're done!" Sophie liked watching the screen on the ultra sound machine, but It was a little scarry, because it was sort of dark, and she didn't know if it hurt Mama. and the technician running the machine didn't want to talk to Sophie, and nothing on the screen looked anything like a baby. But when Margaret came in, and the technician left, everything got better. Margaret moved a wand over Mama's big belly, tallking the whole time about what they were seeing, how good it all was, how soon baby would come, and were there any questins. Because Margaret was so kind, Sophie wasn't afraid to ask, "where is the baby?" "Right here," Margaret pointed at a blob on the screen. "I'll show you." She took a yellow marker from her pocket and drew on the screen. "Here's the baby's little butt, then along here is it's back, see? And on around here is the head, and down the forehead, face, belly, and back up over the bent knees to where we started." Sophie looked at the drawing with wonder in her big green eyes. "Mama," she breathed, "Jelly Bean."

Braids

One particularly windy afternoon, when Sophie was playing outside while her Dad "put the garden to bed," her red hair was flying all over. In her face, in her eyes, around and around with the wind. "I CAN"T SEE!" she yelled. "Put your hat on," Dad suggested. "I DON'T LIKE HATS!" Sophie yelled into the wind. She turned around and tromped into the house. Even before she was through the door, she started, "I WANT BRAIDS!" Getting no response, she kept going, "I WANT BRAIDS! I WANT BRAIDS ! I WANT BRAIDS!" Marching, now, to the rhythm of her chant, and swinging her arms, "I WANT BRAIDS! I WANT BRAIDS!" From room to room, looking for Mom. Not in the kitchen. "I WANT BRAIDS! I WANT BRAIDS!" Not in the living room. Not in the bathroom. "MAMA! WHERE ARE YOU !? I WANT BRAIDS!!!" Pausing for a moment, listening for her mother, she marched on, "I WANT..." "Sophie!" Her mother whispered from the bedroom, "SHHHHHHHHHHH!" Pointing at the phone she mouthed, "I'm on the phone!" "I want braids," Sophie said, whispering this time. "I'm TRYING to play out side and the wind blows and blows," she spread her arms and waved them like windmills, trying to demonstrate. Adding some bends and twists to the explanation, and, without realizing it, chanting again, she swooped to the left and CRASH! Sophie's arm somehow, got caught in the cord to the bed side table lamp, which was for some reason wrapped around the bed side table leg, and the whole thing came CRASHING down. The lamp, which went out when it hit the floor; Mama's beautiful water carafe with the painted violets on it, and the drinking glass to match, shattered; The stacks of books that are always there; pencils and pens, rolling across the floor; even the PHONE; and the table itself. After a gasp, and a moment of silent shock, Mama said into the phone, "I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Edwards, there's been a bit of an accident here, and...no, no.....no one is hurt, but I will have to get back to you......yes......yes I know......yes.......I'll call you back yet this evening. I'm am so sorry. Good bye."
While Mama said good bye to Mr. Edwards, Sophie, crying and wiping her nose, was trying her best to clean up the mess. She couldn't get the table to stand up, the lamp was all in a tangle, and she knew she shouldn't try to pick up the very sharp pieces of broken glass. So she was crawling around, gathering up pens and pencils . She couldn't see very well because of the tears, so she didn't notice the long, thin shard of glass right in her path. "OOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWW!" Sophie screamed as the glass went into her leg. "OWOWOWOWOWOWOOOOOWWWWWWW!" She grabbed her leg, bleeding now, and started to roll over onto her back when Mama said "Watch it, Sophie! Hold still. There's more glass right there beside you. Just HOLD STILL." Holding still is not at all easy to do when you are holding your leg that hurts, and there is slippery blood running all over your hands and tears running down your face, nose dripping. But Mama moved quickly and had Sophie in her arms in a flash. Just then Daddy came in saying, "what's all this commotion? Oh, wow! What happened?" "I think some wind blew into the bedroom," Mama said, eying Sophie, "there's a glass splinter in her leg. We've got to get it out. I'm afraid she's pushing it farther and farther in every time she moves. Go get one of your clamps!" Trying to keep Sophie's leg still Mama carried her into the bathroom, soothing her, murmuring quietly, smoothing back her hair, as they went. "We've got to get some of this blood off so Daddy can see to pull the glass out." she said. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" exclaimed Sophie "IT WILL HUUUUUUUURT!!" Mama got a warm wash cloth very very wet and gently squeezed it to flow over Sophie's leg. "Does that hurt?" she asked. Sophie shook her head. Mama did it some more. "You're getting the floor all wet," Sophie said, almost smiling. "I don't care," Mama said, "We'll dry it." They decided that the best thing do to was to lay Sophie in the bath tub, keeping her leg over the side to help hold it still. Daddy brought in the cushions from the couch, then a few from the bed, and finally Sophie's favorite butterfly blanket. Mama folded a towel over the edge of the tub, and, gently they lay Sophie in the tub-nest, keeping her leg, which was still bleeding, as straight as possible. Mama gave the wash cloth another squeeze saying, "there! See it? It's right there." "Rinse it again," Daddy said. He got down on his knees, his face close to Sophie's leg and as the water washed the blood away, quickly got the clamp onto the end of the piece of glass. Taking a big breath he said, "hold real still, now, pumpkin, this might hurt, but you HAVE to hold still!" With a yank, and an OWWWWWWWW and a big spurt of blood that got all over Daddy, the splinter was out. As Daddy and Sophie examined the very long, horrid sharp glass Mama ran to the freezer to find a bag of peas. She wrapped it in a cold wet wash cloth, and put it gently on Sophie's leg. "This will help stop the bleeding," she explained. Daddy and Sophie were staring at the glass. "Look, " Sophie said to Mama, "there's a tiny bit of a painted violet, see? Right there."

When the water and blood all over the bathroom floor were cleaned up, the cushions and blanket returned to their places, when the night table was set right, a new bulb in the lamp, and all of the shattered glass swept away, Mama put Sophie back in the bathtub - this time with warm soapy bubbles instead of pillows. "I'm sorry I broke your pretty water bottle and glass," Sophie said. "I didn't mean to." "I know you didn't sweetie, " Mama said. " I'm sorry I didn't call to you when I heard you looking for me. Mr. Edwards needs my recommendation for the new library and I guess I was thinking about that and not paying attention to you. I'm sorry about that." "I just wanted braids," said Sophie, softly. "I know you did. How about I go call Mr. Edwards right now, while you soak that leg, and when we're finished, I'll brush out your hair and braid it. OK?" "Sure." said Sophie, sliding down into the bubbles, " AND a band aid!" "Maybe two," smiled Mama

So Mama talked on the phone, and Sophie soaked. But after a while, the water started to get cool. "I know," thought Sophie, "I'll get the hair bands ready. I know where Mama keeps them!" She climbed out of the tub, and rubbed herself dry. Then she ran into her bedroom to get the chair that Mama had painted for her, last Christmas. Pulling it into the bathroom, she set it carefully by the sink. Climbing onto the chair she found she still couldn't reach the handle to open the medicine cabinet where Mommy kept the hair things. Stretching her leg up as high as she could, and grabbing hold of the faucet,she was able to get from the chair to the sink, and from there, easily reach the handle. Sliding it open she found the basket of hair bands. But there was more than hair bands! There were Mommy's lipsticks, her good smelling creams, nail polish, and a stick of black stuff. What is that? Pulling it out and looking in the mirror, Sophie thought she remembered seeing her Mama put the black stick around her eyes. Like this? Sophie painted large circles of eye liner around each eye. Then choosing a bright sort of orange lip stick, drew a circle around her nose. Standing in the sink like that, right in front of the mirror, naked and clean from her bath, Sophie tried a little pink lip stick around her belly button. She took a real dark red one and drew lines out from her belly button, like a sun shine. This was getting really good ! Looking on another shelf she found a little box of blues and grays, like a tiny paint box! Only these were dry, like poweder. Using her finger, she drew a tree all the way down her chest and belly. Then she drew birds flying to the tree, and, with a really REALLY pretty red lip stick, flowers on both cheeks. A tulip under her right eye, and a rose under her left. With a satisfied sigh, she sood in the sink, admiring herself in the mirror.

Jelly Bean

Once upon a time there was a little girl named Sophie. Sophie had bright red hair, pink cheeks, and green eyes. She was a very good little girl, but her hair just never would stay where it should be. When Mommy put Sophie's hair on the pillow for a nap, that hair sprung right up off the pillow! ALL BY ITSELF! When Daddy carefully tucked Sophie's hair into a hat, the very minute Sophie ran out side her hair pushed the hat right off of her head ! And another time, when they were visiting Aunt Catherine, who had a very, VERY fancy house, Mommy and Daddy talked to Sophie ALL THE WAY THERE about sitting still and not singing TOO loud and being POLITE and being a little LADY and on and on. And Sophie tried. She DID! She sat still on a dark green velvety chair, rubbing her hand back and forth across the soft seat for a really long time. She sang Aunt Catherine only 2 or 3 of her best songs - the one about the kitten in the snow, the one about taking a bath, and a bit of the one about falling off her bike, but that one started to get too loud, and Sophie, as the song got exciting, fell off of her chair and.......well, Daddy came over, picked her up, and said parbably that was enough singing for right now. She said "please," and "thank you" as often as there was reason, and, in general, behaved like a little lady. BUT HER HAIR!!!! When Sophie was back in the dark green velvety chair, while Sophie was dreamily stroking it's softness, (I think she was thinking up a song about a drak green velvety cat) her HAIR pulled Sophie right down onto Aunt Catherine's carpet! Now, this was no ordinary carpet as, I'm quite sure Sophie's hair could tell. It was a creamy white. It was thick as a matress, soft, and BIG! (Well, the room itself was very large, so, of course, the carpet was, too.) Sophie's hair just HAD to get right down there IN the carpet to get a good feel of it. And of course, as everyone knows, the BEST way to get to know a carpet is to fling your legs into the air, and stand on your head. And that is exacely what Sophie's hair did. Sophie was quite good at standing on her head, and proud of being able to do it at all! The problem was, she had on a dress. It was a nice dress, Sophie liked it. It had a red top with kind of shiny poka dots all over and a GREAT spin-around skirt, striped in the colors of the poka dots. With her hair in that pillow of a carpet and her legs up in the air, the striped skirt fell down all around her. Sophie felt like she was in a brightly colored tent! But when she heard Aunt Catherine laugh, she came crashing down. Sprawled on the carpet like a rag doll, Sophie realized why Aunt Catherine was laughing. Last night when Mommy was too tired to come up stairs to help Sophie get ready for bed, when she had told Sophie she was getting to be a big girl now and could get ready for bed perfectly well by herself, Sophie had made a decision. Instead of taking off her swim suit - which she had been in all day long because after swim lessons, when she couldn't find her underware (did it drop out of the swim bag? Did they forget to pack it? Was it on the floor of the car?) she put her clothes on over top of her suit. They had met Grandma and Grandpa at the tea room for lunch, and by the time they got home, both Mommy and Sophie had forgotten all about the lost underware. Sophie decided to STAY in her swim suit. Why bother to take it off? She would PROBABLY go swimming again the very next day (she didn't know about the trip to Aunt Catherine,) so why waste all that time to take it off and then put it on again. She pulled her nightie right down over it, brushed her teeth, sang a song about tooth paste, and was busy picking out books when Daddy came up. He picked up her play clothes, tossed them into the laundry hamper, and didn't seem to notice the absence of underware. So ! In the morning, when Mommy, again asked her to dress herself for the trip to Aunt Catherine, again she made the decision to stay in her swim suit. So while her hair had been enjoying the carpet, and Sophie had been enjoying the striped tent, Aunt Catherine, Mommy and Daddy had noticed the bottom on her Little Mermaid swim suit!

So much for Sophie's bright red hair !

One day Sophie's Mommy and Daddy took Sophie out to her FAVORITE ice cream store. It was one of those places with a loooooooooong window full of chopped up candy. You got to choose which ice cream you wanted, which kind of candy you wanted smushed into it, and which kind of cone to put it in! Naturally it took Sophie a looooooooooong time to do all of that choosing ! Quite a number of teen agers had come into the shop, waiting their turn, by the time Stevie (he lived next door to Sophie and worked at the Frozen Slab ice cream store,) handed Sophie her cone. "You picked a good one, kiddo," he said, winking at Sophie. "Thank you, Stevie," her Dad said.

"Let's eat out by the big tree," Mommy said, looking around at the now croweded store, "GREAT!" said Sophie, turning to go. "Careful there, girl!" Daddy said, reaching for Sophie's cone, "your cone is tipping a bit." Settled at the table under the tree, they had their usual talk about whose was the best. (Mommy had a DOUBLE DIP!!!) And, as usual, all agreed it was Sophie's ! "Sophie," Mommy said, "we wanted to talk to you about something." "OK," said Sophie, watching some kids playing frisbee with a dog on the green. "Well," said Mommy, Daddy and I wanted to tell you that you are going to be a big sister!" "Why?" asked Sophie, paying attention now. "Because I'm going to have a baby," Mommy said, patting her tummy. Sophie's green eyes opened wide, her pink cheeks seemed to be even pinker (but that COULD have been because they forgot the sun block yesterday afternoon at the lake,) and her bright red hair seemed to tingle. Shophie herself was FULL of questions: "When? Is it a boy? Is it a girl? How does it get out? Are you sure it's not a puppy? Can I hold it? What will it's name be? Where will it sleep? Is it cold from all that ice cream in there? Can I have a baby, too?" "It should be born around Christmas time, in about 5 more months." "We don't know if it's a boy or a girl, but it definately is NOT a puppy!" "It will come out by Mommy pushing REALLY hard, and the baby pushing, too. It's hard work for both Mommy and the baby." "Of COURSE you can hold it. Whenever you want!" "We can't know it's name until we know if it's a little boy, or a little girl. We have 5 months to think about it. Be sure to tell us that you think about a name, too, Sophie." Sophie nodded. " It will sleep in Mommy and Daddy's bed, like you did before you had your Big Girl Bed." "Can I still sleep there, too, sometimes?" Sophie interrupted. "OF COURSE!" Mommy and Daddy said together. "And no, the baby doesn't feel the cold from the ice cream, even though Mommy DID have a double dip!" "And, to your last question, yes, Sophie, love, you can have a baby too, but not just yet." Sophie thought and thought, looking down into her cone of melting ice cream. "I am going to call the baby Jelly Bean," she said. "Can I go play frisbee with those kids?" "Sure," laughed Mommy and Daddy, but she was already gone.

Cinnamon Rolls

"Here." She handed the cork to Mary, who looked over to Grand Dad Jim. "Go ahead," he said, "hand me the handle, and try to work the cork up in there." "It's too big!" wailed Mary, her hands and arms covered in milk. Quickly Grand Dad Jim flipped open his wood carving knife. "Give it to me!" In a flash he cut away part of the bottom of the cork. "Try again!" He handed the cork back to Mary. Pushing with all of her might against the flowing milk she got the cork to stay! "It's a perfect fit !" she cried. The milk stopped flowing. "But," said Grand Dad Jim, "it won't hold. We've GOT to find that screw!" Mary plopped down on the soggy bottomed dog food bag, Emily, on Grand Dad Jim's lap and for a moment, they all were silent. The room was filled with relief and sorrow and the sounds of milk being lapped up from the puddles in the yard. As they sat there they heard the familiar clanking of Friend Farmer's old truck. As he pulled into the yard, seeing Ruffles and all of the cats feasting on milk, Friend Farmer burst out of his truck. "Whaaaaaa????????????" Mary and Emily came to him through that bright yellow door, both of them crying again. Between gulps and tears and the happy barking of Ruffles, they tried to explain. "You weren't here....and........and......." "We waited and......we WAITED......and....." "......the families.......breakfast......" "we'd helped you............before........and.....we......" ".......we knew how.........we THOUGHT we knew......." Grand Dad Jim patted his lap for Emily to return to him. Mary ran into the open arms of Hilde, both girls spbbing.

"We just ran into town," Friend Farmer said. "This morning when I came out to get started, I noticed that, that old screw was really loose. We don't have any more replacements. I used the last one on the tractor the other day. So I just ran into town to get a couple............how...............how much is gone?" He pulled down the ladder (this tank is SO BIG, as I have said, to get to the lid you have to climb a ladder that is kept clamped to the top of the tank.) He unscrewd the lid and with a crank and pully, lifted if off. Looking deep inside he said, "About half." He cranked the lid back in place, climbed down the ladder and clamped it. Looking at the floor he shook his head. "That's a real loss," he said quietly. Instantly Mary and Emily were on their feet, jumping around Friend Farmer. "Oh ! We'll pay for it" they said together, "I can baby-sit!" "I'll get a paper route!" "we can have a bake sale !" "Grandma will help!" "I will, too," said Hilde, " me, too," piped in Grand Dad Jim. "We'll give you our allowence EVERY WEEK!" "We can rake leaves in the fall!" "shovel snow in the winter!" "we can...." "Now, now girls. It wasn't all your fault. You shouldn't have tried to do the milk by yourselves, but I knew you were coming this morning. I could have left you a note. I SHOULD have been back on time. We would have been, too, but they were JUST taking cinnamon rolls out of the oven at the coffee shop. We smelled them all the way from the hardware." "I think they must have a fan that blows that smell all over town," added Hilde. "We were just going to run in and out, but we ran into Jess, you know how she goes on and on, and then Peter had to talk to Fred about some new tractor gizmo, you know how it goes in town on Saturday morning! EVERYONE in there and wants to talk, talk, talk. We should have realized...." "So we were late getting home. I should have been here by the time you came. I KNOW when you come! It's not your fault. It just happened." By this time Ruffles and the cats had finished up their feast. Ruffles lay down by Grand Dad Jim's chair, Mama cat returned to her kittens on the porch, the farm cats to the barn where they found cozy straw to curl up in. "I sure could use some help cleaning up this mess!" Friend Farmer finally said.

While Mary got out the hose, and Emily found the broom, Grand Dad Jim talked to Ruffles, and Friend Farmer spoke quietly to Hilde. Mary and Emily carried the table by the tank out into the sun and spread the wet cow books on it to dry. The scooped the part of the dog food that didn't get wet into a big metal trash can, and the part that was ruined into a trash bag. They spread their wet jackets on the grass, took off their soggy shoes and socks and laid them in the sun, too. Then they got to work in the milk house. They took turns with the hose and the broom, spraying and scrubbing every thing they saw, including each other. By the time Hilde came out with a pitcher of raspberry ice tea and cinnamon toast for everyone, Emily and Mary were thoroughtly and truely soaked. But they were laughing again, and proud to show Hilde, Friend Farmer, and Grand Dad Jim the sparkling clean milk house. "We even washed the yellow door!" Emily said. "Hasn't looked this good in some time, " said Friend Farmer, "nice job, girls."

As they all enjoyed their morning snack by the stone wall, Firend Farmer said, "I should have replaced the extra screw the minute I used it on the tractor. Then I could have replaced the old one in the faucet THE MINUTE I noticed it was loose. It was just irresponsible to let that go." "I think we need a big chalk board, " said Grand Dad Jim. It could help us keep track of things. You could keep a list of who the girls deliver to, and their phone numbers. You could keep track of which cows need medicine, or are about to calf." "And when we need supplies - like screws!" added Friend Farmer. "That's a GREAT idea!" chimed in Hilde. "There could be a corner just for notes. Like, when you're out in the field and I want you to know that dinner will be late, or early, or well, whatever." "And you could leave notes for us!" "It's DONE!" said Friend Farmer, smiling. "I'll run back to town this afternoon and pick one up." "No need," said Grand Dad Jim, "I've got one from when they took the old school house down. Kept it all these years for no reason at all." "I guess there is a reason, afterall," said Emily with her mouth half full of toast. "Maybe," said Hilde, "there's always a reason for things and most of the time we just don't see it."

On their way home Mary and Emily stopped at each house that had been expecting fresh milk to explain why there was no milk today. On this Saturday, there were no blueberry muffins, or fresh squeezed ornage juice, or pancakes. It was, afterall, almost afternoon!

Grand Dad Jim

The beautiful, creamy white fresh milk slowly ran out of the faucet into the bottle. Mary held it very, very still, useing both hands. Not a splash, not a drip. Perfect! As the bottle bagan to fill Emily said, "don't forget to turn it off a little BEFORE it's cleaar full!" "I won't," said Mary quietly, one hand now on the faucet handle. Both girls held their breath as they concentrated on the milk. The bottle was ALMOST full. Emily said, "NOW!" "Ok," said Mary, and she carefully turn the handle closed. Emily reached to take the full bottle But......BUT.......BUT!!!!!!!!!!!!! The faucet DIDN'T close !!! The bottle started over flowing, milk pouring out over the top! Not just one precious drop, but POURING! Franticly Mary turned the hendle HARD. Maybe it's the other way!" yelled Emily. Emily had carefully placed the full bottle on the table and reached for another to hand to Mary. Mary turned the handle the other way, while at the same time trying to get the new bottle under the faucet, and then back the first way. No matter which way she turned, milk kept pouring out. "Let me try," said Emily, and when she did, the handle came clear off into her hand. By this time there was milk all over the floor of that yellow doored room. Mary and Emily's shoes were sloshing in milk. The bag of dog food Farmer Friend kept in the corner was standing in milk. And the books about how to raise cows, and take care of them when they get sick were starting to float off of their low shelves. It was a flood. A flood of milk. A flood of precious, precious, fresh milk. And it was still coming out. More and more and more. Mary sat right down in it and started to cry. "NO!" shouted Emily, "come ON! We've got go find help!" She pulled at Mary to stand up when, surprising them both, Mary jumped up! "I've got an idea," she said, running to the clean rag drawer, "let's see if we can stuff one of these in there!" They tried and they tried, but the force of the pouring milk kept pushing the rag out. "Let's go find Grand dad Jim," Emily said, quiet now.

Grand Dad Jim was Hilda's father. He lived sort of next door, but, because it was a farm, surrounded by pasture, his house wasn't exactly just right THERE. But Mary and Emily knew the way! Grand Dad Jim was one of their favorites, and they had often been to his house. He was too old to work anymore so he mostly sat in the yard and carved animals out of wood. He made BEAUTIFUL birds and then painted them just the right colors. He made small woodland animals, and, sometimes made up creatures. He always had a story to tell about the animals he carved.

QUICKLY! Past the big red barn, past the farm house kitchen window, through the garden, around the apple trees, "Why didn't we think of Grand Dad Jim right the minute it HAPPENED?" panted Emily as she ran, tripping over Ruffles, who wanted to play more ball. Emily fell. "Oh!.. Emily! Are you all right?" Mary said. "Yes!," Emily said scrambling up and wiping off her knee at the same time, "let's go!" Just on the other side of the apple orchard, running along the wall to the back pasture was a little stream. Friend Farmer had built a small bridge over the stream, to get back and forth to Grand Dad Jim's place more easily. Now, over that bridge ran the girls, around the corn field (milk still pouring!) and THERE! There was Grand Dad Jim's woods! Mary and Emily knew the trail well and even bofore they were into Grand Dad Jim's sunny yard they both started shouting. "Grand Dad Jim! Grand Dad Jim ! Oh!!! GRAND DAD JIM!!!!!" And there he was. Sitting in the sun, his back to the forest, bent over his carving. Of course he heard the girls, and turned slowly toward them with a big smile. "Mary!" he said, "Emily! Come on over here quickly and take a look at this little racoon I'm......" When he saw their unhappy faces, and realized they were both crying and talking and pointing toward the farm, he turned his chair, looked directly at them and listened. "Slow down. One at a time. Take it easy. Whatever it is, it'll be all right." "NO!" cried Mary, "it's NOT all right !" And she handed him the faucet handle that whe still had clentched in her fist. As quickly as they could, Mary and Emily explained to Grand Dad Jim that milk was pouring all over the milk house floor. "Let's get there!" He said, turning his chair toward the path even before they finished. Now, I may not have mentioned that Grand Dad Jim was in a wheel chair. Many, many years ago, back when Hilda was just a girl herself, Grand Dad Jim had fallen from his tractor and broken his legs, both of them, so badly that he was not able to use them again. But he sure could use his arms, and they were STRONG! And now those strong arms went into action, spinning the wheels, flying towards the woods. Through the woods, around the corn field, over the bridge. It was a bumpy ride all right, but Grand Dad Jim took that chair over the bumps so fast Mary and Emily could only just keep up. By the time they got to the milk house, milk was pouring into the yard. Ruffles and all of the barn cats sure were enjoying that ! Mama Cat had even left her kittens in the box on the porch to join in the feast. Grand Dad Jim stopped at the door and took a deep breath. "OK girls, let's get to work. I'll tell you exactly what to do." He handed the faucet handle back to Mary. "Put this right back on the faucet where it was. Try to get it lined up, straight. That's right, good. Now, put the long screw carefully down the center." "What screw?" asked Mary, looking around. "You don't have a long center screw?" he asked, showing with his fingers how long it should be. "NO" said Mary, crying again. Emily was crying, too, and the milk kept pouring. "Mary," said Grand Dad Jim. "Hold steady. Just keep hold of that handle right where you have it. Emily, over there, in the top drawer, no, no, the one on the right, there should be a long screw in there. Do you see it?" Emily was rooting around in a drawer full of all sorts of stuff. String and pens, a band aid, twisty ties, nails, tiny screws, cough drops, corks......CORKS! "Can we stop it with a cork?" "Don't think so, " Grand Dad Jim sighed, but I guess it's worth a try, eh? Are you SURE there are no long screws in there? MAN I wish I could get through this door!!!" "Yes," said Emily, running over with the cork. "I am sure."

Fresh Milk

Once upon a time there were two little girls and their names were Mary and Emily. Mary and Emily lived with their Mama and Daddy in a small, friendly village. To the north of the village were the mountains, where their friend Betsey Bear lived. To the south of the village was the forest. They liked to take picnics there. To the east was the city, so busy and full of noise and lights! And to the west was the prairie with it's wind and sun and sweeping grasses.

Mary and Emily's Mama and Daddy had a friend whose name was Fred. He was a farmer, and when Mary and Emily were very little girls, they called him Friend Farmer. They still call him that! Only, once in a while, they call him Friend Fred, or, Farmer Fred. ONCE they tried Friend Farmer Fred, but that took too long. Well, Friend Farmer had lots of cows. I mean LOTS of cows! Maybe 75 or 100. He milked the cows with a big machine, not with his hands like Grandma did in the old days. That would take all day! He lined up 12 cows, each in a little stall, each with a rack of cow food. Then he attatched the machine to their teats and truned it on. Voila ! Milk! Then those 12 cows went back out to the pasture and the next 12 took their turn in the stalls. It went on like that till all of the cows were milked. He did this twice a day, morning and evening. Now you can imagine that this made a big, big, BIG amount of milk! The milk was kept in a big, big BIG tank, about as big as your Grandma's swimming pool, only taller. Many of Mary and Emily's neighbors liked fresh farm milk, instead of store milk. So Mary and Emily had a special Saturday job. They would get up early Saturday morning and line their bike baskets with plastic bags, the kind you get at the grocery store when you forget to take your own cloth ones. They put on old shoes, special for going to the farm, zipped their jackets, found their bike helmets, and were off to Friend Farmer's farm. Beside the big red barn was a room that had almost nothing in it but the giant humongous, google-plex tank of milk. This room had a door painted bright shinny yellow. It always made Mary think of sunshine. It made Emily think of butter! While Friend Farmer filled bottles and jars with milk from the tank, Friend Farmer's wife filled the bike baskets with ice, to keep the milk cold while being delivered. Mary and Emily helped them both and soon were on their way with about 4 bottles of milk in each basket. They delivered the milk right into the kitchens of all of the neighboars who loved that fresh milk. Sometimes, in one of those cheerful kitchens they would get a warm blueberry mufin, or a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. Once, pancakes ! It was a great job!

On this particular Saturday, Mary and Emily got up bright and early, lined their bike baskets with plastic bags, and rode off to Friend Farmer's big red barn, just like always. But when they got there, no one was there. Not Friend Farmer, and not Friend Farner's wife, who, by the way, was named Hilda. The cows had all been milked, Mary and Emily could see that they were already out in the back pasture, but there was no one anywhere about. What should they do? They knew that the families were expecting their milk for breakfast, but, what should they DO? They decided to wait. They climbed a few trees, ate an apple or two from one, walked along the stone wall as far as the woods, and played ball for awhile with Ruffles, the farm sheep dog. But time was passing ! And Mary and Emily knew the families were waiting, maybe even watching out their windows, looking for them.

Mary and Emily KNEW how to get the milk out of the tank. They had helped Friend Farmer do it many, many times. They knew how to wipe off the rim of each bottle with a clean rag from that drawer, right over there. They knew how to hold the bottle, just so, RIGHTunder the faucet so you don't lose a single DROP of milk. They knew how to turn the faucet handle slowly, so no milk would splash, and how to turn it off just BEFORE the bottle was all the way full, not spilling the teeniest drip. That fresh milk was PRECIOUS! Mary and Emily looked at each other. They looked at the tank. They looked at the clean, empty bottles, lined up on the shelf. Together they walked to the drawer of clean rags. CAREFULLY they lifed each bottle down and wiped the rim. CAREFULLY they carried the bottles to the table beside the tank, just like Friend Farmer did. CAREFULLY the put the first bottle under the faucet, just SO, and CAREFULLY they turned the faucet handle.