 
THYMELY TALES  
Transformational Fairy Tales   
For Adults and Children

Lauren O. Thyme

Illustrated by Devon Q. Thyme

Copyright 1987 Lauren O. Thyme

2nd edition 2016

Designed and Formatted for publication

by CreativeNM
Table of Contents

TITLE PAGE

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

HOW THYMELY TALES CAME INTO BEING

HOW YOU CAN CREATE YOUR OWN FAIRY TALE

BROTHER GRIM

SUSIE THE GREEN SNAKE

DARK DEAN

KING ROMAINE

ANNA

ASK FOR WHAT YOU WANT

HEATHER GREEN GRASS

TEENIE THE ELF

DARK DEAN GOES TO WASHINGTON

LUMINOUS LAURA

THE MAN WHO COULDN'T DIE

THE BLAMER

GOD'S LAP

THE MERMAN WHO WANTED TO DANCE

VICTIM

THE GIGGLE PRINCESS

MAGGIE AND THE FROGS

FORGIVEN

THE WILD ROSE

THE FAIRIES

KILLER T'S

TO BE OR NOT TO BE

FIREWALKER

THE PRINCE WHO THOUGHT HE WAS A FROG

HOPE

IT'S NOT FAIR

BILLY BUTTERFLY

THE MAGI AND THE SLAVE GIRL

A GATHERING OF ANGELS

LITTLE BOY LOST

ANGELA AND THE GIFT OF RECEIVING

THE STRANGER THAT CAME TO TOWN

PIRATE'S TREASURE

MOVE OVER EINSTEIN

AUTHORS NOTE

WHO IS LAUREN O. THYME?

MORE FROM LAUREN O. THYME

#

# ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

#

I am grateful to my clients, friends and family for inspiring these stories into being. My thanks to Dr. Carl Jung and Joseph Campbell for explaining archetypes and the Hero's Journey. And to David Wilcock for clarifying the universal power of stories.

#

# HOW THYMELY TALES CAME INTO BEING

#

_Thymely Tales_ came about as a series of synchronicities leading to an abandonment of my career goal.

I had finished my B.S. in Transpersonal Psychology and was intending to proceed with a Master's degree, working towards becoming a counselor.

Dr. Joshua David Stone had recently moved to Sacramento where I was living. Stone had a Ph.D. in Transpersonal Psychology and was a Licensed Marriage, Family and Child Counselor. He was also an American author and teacher in the Ascended Master Teachings (sometimes called the Ascension Movement), a group of religions based on Theosophy, as well as an influential spiritual teacher in the Ascension Movement. I asked Joshua if he would be my teacher and adviser while I interned for a year under his guidance. He happily agreed. Stone created "Easy-to-Read Encyclopedia of the Spiritual Path" containing numerous volumes and worked with ascended masters. Joshua helped organize Wesak, a celebration of Buddha's birthday, at Mount Shasta every year until his death in 2005. Only in retrospect do I realize how influential Dr. Stone's influence was on me and how well our beliefs and experiences matched.

As time went by I became more unhappy working as a counselor. I observed that each of my clients seemed to prefer that I give them a short and snappy solution to their problems, preferably using a magic wand. One day out of my own desperation, as I sat contemplating my unhappy client, a story popped into my head. An allegory of that person. His own fairy tale. I related his story to him and surprisingly he burst into tears, unlike his usual stoic, argumentative self. The metaphor had a greater impact than any of my advice, assistance, guidance or "wisdom." Over the following weeks he referred to the story over and over and he began to change of his own accord. That client's story is entitled "The Prince Who Thought He Was a Frog."

I began making up stories and telling them to my other clients, with the same effect. I then started creating and narrating stories for my friends and family members. Each person would cry at the conclusion, then remember the story in detail, sometimes for years or even decades. The metaphorical tale had a profound impact that rational ideas and suggestions lacked.

One day I was traveling with several friends on our way to a picnic. I told them what I was doing and they insisted I make up a story for each of them - which I did. They each cried and told me that the story was a deep representation of their life stories. My friend Suzy (whose story became "Susie, the Green Snake") suggested I write down all the stories and make it into a book.

I terminated my internship, stopped seeing clients, and commenced writing. Thus _Thymely Tales_ was born.

Each story in _Thymely Tales_ is based on a real person and his/her struggles to learn, grow and evolve. My own is entitled "Luminous Laura the Firefly."

In my childhood I loved Grimm's Fairy Tales as well as Aesop's Fables. Like the Grimm Brothers and Aesop, THYMELY TALES combines unforgettable, fantastical characters like Bag Ladies, Princes, Psychologists, Nurses, Fireflies, CIA spies, and Fairies, using straightforward stories illuminating archetypes, as well as spiritual and ethical principles in a simple way. Metaphorical archetypes are similar to those elaborated on in the writings of Plato, Jung, and Joseph Campbell.

When I was working on _Thymely Tales_ I was living with my partner, Devon Q. Thyme, who illustrated some of my tales for the book. I appreciate Devon's talent as he captured the essence of each fairytale. Thank you, Devon!

_Thymely Tales_ are written for both children and adults. Some parents who bought my book read one of these fairytales to their children every night at bedtime.

I continually discover that stories are amazingly powerful vehicles for individuals to appreciate and remember -- at a feeling, emotional, spiritual level -- what cannot be expressed or understood in literal words. 

#

# HOW YOU CAN CREATE YOUR OWN FAIRY TALE

#

The value of creating your own story is emotionally, psychologically and spiritually beneficial and revealing. Here's how you can create a fairytale for yourself.

**Step 1 --**Sit in a comfortable place where you won't be interrupted or disturbed. Turn off cell phones, radio, CD player, TV. Close your eyes

S **tep 2 --**Imagine that you remove your logical mind; place it on a table near you. You won't need it, and can retrieve it later. Your logical mind will get in your way; it may try to edit, censor or make sense out of your story or even discount what you make up.

**Step 3 --**You will need your imagination, even if you think you don't have one or cannot easily access it.

**Step 4 --**Beginning with the words "once upon a time, there was a ....." create a character that will represent you at your most fundamental level. Imagine standing in front of a full-length mirror and observe yourself as the character. Tall, short, fat, thin, attractive, unattractive, male, female, human or non-human. BREATHE. If you are fearful of doing this exercise incorrectly, or that you can't think of a character, MAKE IT UP. The character could be serious or funny. It doesn't matter. It can be a character you love. Or one you dislike. The character could be non-human. It doesn't matter. MAKE IT UP. Your internal wisdom will unerringly guide you, as long as you let go of your logical mind.

**Step 5 --**Next, make up a scenario and an environment for that character to live in. When in doubt, MAKE IT UP. See the details and describe them to yourself. Sense the wind or heat on your skin. Smell whatever fragrances are around you. Touch yourself and objects. Hear voices. Feel the emotions of your character. Happy, scared, peaceful, angry, compassionate or bitter. MAKE IT UP.

**Step 6 --**Make up a dilemma or problem for that character to experience. If you get stuck, MAKE IT UP.

**Step 7 --**Make up other characters for that character to relate to, be friends with, or be antagonist towards.

**Step 8 --**Create action and problems for all the characters to interact. How does that feel?

**Step 9 --**You can add a wise character, who can help your character out of his/her dilemma and/or to offer assistance.

**Step 10 --**After you have created conflict and difficulties for your character, make up a positive resolution for the scenario and your character.

**Step 11 --**Open your eyes. Bring your logical mind back into play and write down your story in as much detail as you can remember. Save it (print it) and re-read it to yourself ... and to others if you like. YOU are all the characters, the problems, and the resolution in your fairy tale. Contemplate and meditate on what the story, the conflict and the resolution means to you.

#

# BROTHER GRIM

#

Once upon a time there existed a family by the name of Grim. There was Mother Grim and Father Grim and Brother Grim, their little boy. This family was very, very serious. They never laughed. They never smiled. They never joked. In fact, they were so serious and heavy that each and every one of them was immensely large. They were heavy as well as quite grim. Brother Grim was the lightest of the three. He only weighed four-hundred eighty pounds. He was still growing, though, because he was just a young boy.

Brother's best friend lived next door. His name was Jack Light.

In comparison, Jack Light was skinny. He weighed one-hundred-ten pounds, and was very tall. He loved to jump around and never stood still for a moment. He also never stopped smiling or giggling or laughing. He was always so cheerful, that Brother Grim would get a headache.

Then Brother Grim would say, "Oh Jack, why do you have to bounce around so much and be so silly? I get a headache just watching you!"

Jack would giggle all the more and jump around and say, "Well, that's because I feel light all the time. You should try it for a change. It would do wonders for you!"

Brother Grim said, "Well, I couldn't possibly do that, because I'm much too serious for all that frivolity."

Jack Light would say, "Oh gee, that's too bad," and off he would go, skipping down the street.

Sometimes Brother Grim would sit at his bedroom window and watch Jack Light, and all of Jack's friends. "I can't possibly act like that. I'm much too serious. My life is grim after all. Isn't it?"

One day soon after Brother Grim was playing outside with Jack Light. Jack suggested that he should take off his old heavy overcoat that he always wore.

Brother Grim said, "I couldn't possibly take this coat off. What would happen?"

Jack replied. "I don't know what would happen. It certainly has to be better than wearing that old heavy overcoat all the time. It must weigh at least one hundred pounds."

Brother Grim said, "Well, maybe someday I'll take it off. Right now I don't want to."

Jack Light giggled at that and said, "O.K. See you tomorrow then," and went bouncing off.

Brother Grim went to his room and closed the door. "Maybe Jack has a point. Maybe I could take off this old heavy overcoat that I'm always wearing." Very carefully he unbuttoned each of the buttons on the coat. Then he took the coat by the lapels and slightly opened it. Just as he did, giggly bubbles like hundreds of butterflies flew out. He closed the coat very fast, and buttoned it up. His heart beat hard, "Oh dear! What was that? What were those giggles?" He was frightened. "I'm going to keep this overcoat buttoned up good and proper because I don't know what this commotion is or those giggly bubbles!"

The next day Brother was sitting in his room. He decided to try again and undid his buttons. He gently pulled his coat by the lapels, started to open it up. Once again giggly bubbles flew out from under his coat. The bubbles tickled his chest and made him giggle himself. Little bubbles were coming out of his chest and through his body. He felt good! So he opened up the coat some more and more giggles bubbled out. He started to laugh even harder and pretty soon he was rolling around on the floor of his room laughing until his cheeks hurt.

"Oh, this feels so good! I'm going to leave the overcoat open from time to time."

Each time Brother would get a little braver. He'd open the coat, then came the bubbles and out would come his giggles. He would begin to laugh again, tears streaming down his face. Brother Grim's parents, Mr. and Mrs. Grim started to notice that Brother Grim was getting smaller. He was losing weight and his clothes didn't fit anymore. He also started to do unusual things with his voice, like laughing and giggling. They thought it was very unusual. But his parents would sneak off to their own room and secretly would unbutton their own overcoats. They would become giggly too! What was happening to the Grim Family?

One day, Brother Grim decided that his overcoat was just too heavy and he took it off entirely.

His parents were amazed. Brother looked like a regular boy now. He no longer weighed four-hundred eighty pounds. In fact, he wasn't even one-hundred ninety pounds any more, now. He was very light and lean and happy.

They decided to take their overcoats off, too. Pretty soon the whole Grim family could be heard all through the neighborhood, laughing and joking. They had to go buy new clothing. None of their old clothes fit them anymore. They were light and happy and full of giggles. Jack practically lived with them now because their home was such a wonderful place to be.

One day Brother Grim turned to Jack and said, "You know, I don't think our name fits us anymore. We can't be "Light" because that's your name. What do you think we should call ourselves?"

Jack looked at him with a big grin and said, "I think from now on I'll call you Brother De-light!"

#

# SUSIE THE GREEN SNAKE

#

Once upon a time there was a green snake by the name of Susie. She was an exceptionally beautiful snake. However, Susie didn't think so. Susie hated how she looked. She hated that she was a snake. She hated that she was green. She even hated how she slithered through the forest. In fact, there wasn't one single thing that Susie liked about herself.

As she slithered through the forest she would see the red-tailed hawk flying over her head. Or she would see the green fir tree on the hill. She would see brother squirrel in his brown suit gathering nuts. She would think, "Why can't I be a red-tailed hawk or a green pine tree, or brother squirrel in his brown suit."

She felt very unhappy. Although her friends often told her what a beautiful green snake she was, Susie didn't like herself. She wanted to be something else.

Her friend, the red-tailed hawk, flew around her a lot and spoke with Susie. One day he was encouraging Susie to love herself the way she was.

Susie said, "Look, I'm just an old green snake, slithering through the grass. I'm absolutely not important. There is nothing special about me. I'm not even pretty and I'm disgusted with myself. What do you think about that?"

The red-tailed hawk flew off very sadly, because he could say nothing to cheer Susie up.

Susie was tired that afternoon. She decided to take a nap in the forest. She fell asleep and dreamed. She dreamt that her friend, the red-tailed hawk, came and picked her up gently in his talons. They flew higher and higher into the air, almost to the fluffy clouds.

The red-tailed hawk said to Susie, "Look down."

Susie saw a beautiful green river winding through the hills and forests. It brimmed with fish. The fish family delightfully swam through clear water. Beautiful stones and crystals sparkled in the sun. All the animals came to drink from the green river, nourishing themselves in the clean, bright water. Children laughed and played on the banks, splashing each other with the cool water.

The green river was a joy for Susie to see. She asked her friend the hawk. "What is that magnificent river?"

The hawk replied. "The only way I could show you your magnificence was for you to see it yourself. This is you. The Green Snake River!"

Susie looked at the shimmering beauty. Chills ran down her arms. "Oh," was all she could say while her heart filled with joy.

#

#

DARK DEAN

Once upon a time there was a man by the name of Dark Dean, who lived in the Land of the Darks. The Land of the Darks was totally surrounded by forbidding mountains and immense chasms. The sky was always dark and cloudy. The houses, too, were always dark, their shades pulled down from the sunlight. Dark Dean always wore a black suit, drove his black car, always wearing his black sunglasses, because he lived in the Land of the Darks. When he would get home at night, he put his black car away and make sure that all his shades were pulled down, so no light ever entered. It was law in the Land of the Darks that he be home by nightfall.

One day he was on a mission for work, and had to go into the Land of the Lights for some information. As he drove around, he noticed that it was incredibly brilliant and sunshiny there, so bright his eyes hurt even with his sunglasses on. The Land of the Lights looked interesting from what he could see. No one had their blinds drawn in their houses. Their cars were all parked out in front of their homes on the street. Hardly anyone wore dark glasses and no one wore dark suits. It was a different place from what he was used to.

Dark Dean made certain to get home by the time it was dark. He drove around one of the chasms, down a narrow, winding road, and drove to his house. He pulled his dark car in the garage and he closed the garage door quickly. He went into his dark house and made sure all the blinds were pulled down tight. Curious, he went to his front door and opened it. He stood there and noticed that all the other houses on the block were absolutely dark. The cars were put away and there wasn't a soul out on the street. It was a very dark night.

The next night he went on another mission. This time he got lost and somehow ended up in the Land of the Lights again. He knew he wasn't supposed to be there, especially not after dark, but there he was. People had their cars parked in front of their houses like usual and their shades were all pulled up so you could see inside their homes. Light was shining out of their windows. It was amazing. There were even street lights on every corner.

Dark Dean pulled up alongside one house that seemed to be particularly light. He got out and snuck over to the front window, because he didn't want to be seen, and peeked in. There were people eating an ordinary meal of beans and hard bread. They appeared very cheerful and happy. They seemed to love each other very much and sang songs. He had never seen anything like that in his life. He always was used to eating good meals. Who'd want to sing about eating beans and hard bread? He was confused.

Just then a little boy at the table stood up and said, "Look mommy. Someone is looking in through our window."

The mother got up, went to the door, opened it, and said to Dark Dean, "Hello, young man. Would you like to come in?"

Dark Dean shook his head and said, "Well, ah, no ah, I can't stay. Um, I have to go now. Ah, I'm from the Land of the Darks. I'm not supposed to be here. I better get going, because I'm going to be in trouble, I think."

With that he ran to his car, jumped in, and took off for home. He drove as fast as he could to his dark neighborhood, pulled into the garage, got out of his dark car, and ran into his dark house. When he closed the door he noticed that he had lost his dark glasses in his haste and confusion. Somehow it didn't matter.

The next day Dark Dean got in his car and deliberately drove to the Land of the Lights, making sure that no one followed him. He pulled up to the house he had visited the night before that was very bright and light. The people were now sitting on the grass in the front yard having a picnic of beans and hard bread.

The little boy said, "Oh, hi again! Come on over and join us."

Dark Dean hesitantly went over and sat down. The little boy said, "Here's your dark glasses. You dropped them last night."

"That's all right. You can keep them."

The little boy continued. "Why don't you take off your dark coat, sir? You look warm and uncomfortable."

"Oh, um, I can't do that," Dark Dean replied.

The little boy said, "Oh, please. We'd like for you to. In fact, we'd like for you to come to visit us often. You're a very pleasant person."

Dark Dean had never been talked to like this in his entire life. He couldn't believe that anyone could be so friendly. He was a little mistrustful but he took off his dark suit anyway and they gave him a light shirt and shorts to put on. He sat out on the grass with them and they continued their picnic, the sun beaming warmly on them.

When it turned dusk Dark Dean knew he better go home. He picked up all his dark clothes and his glasses and got in his car. It wasn't until he hit the crossing guard at the Land of the Dark that he realized he still had his light clothes on. He was embarrassed.

The guard said, "What are you doing? Don't you belong to the Land of the Darks? You better get over there before something bad happens to you. Where did you get that outfit? Don't you have a dark suit you can wear? You better get home quickly and pull down all your shades, so you'll be safe!"

Dark Dean thought for a moment. Then he said, "I don't think I want to go back to my dark home anymore. I can't stand to have the shades drawn." He turned his car around and sped away.

The guard watched, his mouth open in astonishment.

Dean returned to the Land of the Lights to the family he was becoming acquainted with. They were there waiting for him with a very special present, a flashlight. They knew that he was ready to live in Light from that point on.

#

#

# KING ROMAINE

Once upon a time there was a stately, elegant head of lettuce named King Romaine. He was married to Queen Spinach, and they had given birth to Baby Beets and Bibb Lettuce.

King Romaine was a wonderful ruler with the exception of a single personal flaw. If he couldn't see something with his own two eyes, or feel it, or have experienced it himself, he wouldn't believe other people's experiences. In fact, he went so far as to tell someone he was crazy, or making it up. His belligerence made life with him difficult, as he would only believe what he could see and feel in his own garden. Sometimes, Queen Spinach would be so exasperated that she would have to leave the throne room.

On one sunny afternoon, a brilliant bluebird flew into the garden. The bluebird told King Romaine of wonderful places he had seen, of frozen raindrops that had fallen upon his wings, and people with various colored skins -- yellow, red, and black.

King Romaine snorted with disbelief. "Get out of here, you lying Bluebird," said King Romaine. "I don't want to hear your wild flights of fantasy. When you can tell me what is true, I will listen." The bluebird was taken aback. The experiences had all been real. He was shocked that King Romaine could dismiss his experiences so easily. He sadly flew away.

A rabbit happened into the garden early one morning. He hopped over to where Romaine was sleeping. "Hey, you, whatcha doing sleeping on such a fabulous morning!"

"Hah?" said King Romaine, fuzzy from first awakening. "Don't you know who I am?" demanded the King.

"Sure, you're lettuce."

"I'm more than lettuce, young one. I'm the King of the Garden here."

"Oh, so sorry. Didn't mean to insult you. I wanted to tell someone of my new adventure! I found a big river, with rocks, and waterfalls. The water is icy cold, and the water makes the most delicious sound flowing around the rocks."

"Where is this?" asked King Romaine.

"Not too far. Just a day's hopping from here." replied the rabbit.

"I've never seen or heard of this river. You must be making it up. After all, you're just a young rabbit. Young rabbits are prone to having over-active imaginations." With that. King Romaine laid down to go back to sleep.

"Can you imagine that?" said the rabbit, hippity-hopping away out of the garden. "It's too bad he didn't want to hear of this river. It is the most wonderful of any sight I have ever seen." He hopped out of sight.

Queen Spinach had been listening to the conversation. "Husband," she said, "why did you not believe that little rabbit? He didn't mean anything bad. He was just sharing what he had learned with you."

"Nonsense!" retorted King Romaine. "You can't tell me that you believe someone without ever having seen it yourself."

"Well things like that may exist, you know. I think you were entirely too hard on that poor little rabbit,"

"Hmmp," answered the King.

Just then a wise old Garlic from the garden spoke up. "Excuse me, sir King. I hope you won't think that I'm meddling in areas that aren't my affair. However, I think that perhaps the Queen might have a point there. You know, all of us learn by other people in our life teaching us things. We couldn't possibly experience everything in this world. Sometimes we just have to take other people's word for it. I think and I agree with the Queen that you may have been just a little bit rash."

"Well! No one asked for your opinion, and I really don't care to hear it!" exclaimed King Romaine, turning away from the little Garlic.

Over the next week or two strange things started to happen to King Romaine. His leaves began to get brown at the edges. Insects and bugs started to nibble him and make little holes in his leaves. His shiny leaves dulled. He drooped and became limp.

The Queen was quite distressed at the King's appearance. "My heavens, husband, what is happening to you?"

"I don't know," puzzled the King, "I'm half gone already. If something doesn't improve soon, I'm afraid I will completely wilt away. Maybe I need some fertilizer or perhaps I'm getting watered too much. It's hard to know what the problem is."

Again little old Garlic spoke up. "Excuse me. King Romaine Sir. Um, I do believe that perhaps what is happening is that you have turned away from living. As I have mentioned before, life is just not your own experiences. Although I must say you have had some very wonderful experiences. Nevertheless not believing other people's experiences may be killing you."

"Awwww," answered King Romaine. "I never thought of that. I'm wondering if perhaps you're right. I have been a little harsh. It's just that it's hard for me to believe when other people tell me things that I haven't experienced. It makes me feel that they're lying or having an overactive imagination."

"Perhaps not," said Garlic.

"Well then, I think what I will do from now on," said King Romaine, "is to be more open to other people and hear what they have to say, without doubting. I suppose it could not hurt me and I know it would make my wife a lot happier."

From that day on King Romaine's strength grew and he became glossy and bright and green once again. The bugs went away and he perked up and he became a full head once again.

"This is wonderful," said the King to the old Garlic. "Thank you for your wisdom. I appreciate it. I've been feeling great since our last talk."

"You're welcome, Sire. I have been around the garden a long time. I thought maybe I could give you some new information that you hadn't considered before. Think nothing of it!"

"I've been listening to the birds and the spiders and the various whisperings of the garden. I've learned a lot in the last few days. I appreciate what you did for me."

A couple of days later. King Romaine started to grow. He got taller and thinner and thinner, and thinner yet and even more thin. He became so tall that he was almost as tall as the cornstalks.

Queen Spinach was distressed.

Instead of becoming alarmed, King Romaine was curious and interested. "Oh, say, Mr. Garlic. What do you think is happening now?"

Garlic examined the King. "Well, my dear King, I think that what is happening is you're beginning to have a new experience. You have been told about this, but you may never have believed it. Now that you have been willing to believe, it is happening at last. I think you are going to Seed."

"Going to Seed? My heavens, will that hurt?" asked King Romaine.

"Not that I know of. You will go into a new reality and eventually all the seeds of your growth will fall in the garden and next year will become new plants."

"Oh, that sounds very interesting indeed. I think I'm going to like this."

The wind began to blow. The seed pods on the tall, thinned stems of King Romaine opened. The seeds of his growth blew away, sprinkling on the fertile soil, taking root. King Romaine's wisdom spread widely throughout the Garden.

#

# ANNA

#

Many eons ago, there existed a magical land called Mu. Peace had reigned there for five thousand years. The climate was warm and balmy all year long. The land was mostly one big continent island, situated in the Pacific Ocean.

The people lived simply, in humble houses of straw and clay. Technology was mostly non-existent. Cars, planes, electricity, none of these existed. Houses had plumbing, and paths existed, on which the people walked. No one needed to lock their doors. Indeed, on a journey, it was very common to knock on a door along the pathway, and be received like a dear friend, although one was a stranger. Lying was unknown, for all people were telepathic. The Muans had a language, and would only read thoughts when invited. Telling the truth was the order of the day. To speak an untruth felt like pain in the body, so people spoke truth all the time.

In those days the people lived to be quite old, sometimes past one thousand years old. Law and order was easy as there was little want and no crime. Because people lived to be so old, birth control was strictly observed. In fact, it was a rare occasion when a child was born. Healing was done on a mental level and doctors were considered to be highly spiritual. The doctors were not kept very busy. The prophets and wise persons were kept a little busier than that.

It was with a happy, joyous heart that two wise persons paid a visit to Esmerlinga. Their announcement was brief. "You have been chosen to usher in a new soul," they said. "You are a most happy woman, contented, gentle, and affectionate. The babe will rest comfortably with you for nine months."

Esmerlinga was speechless. This was a great honor. "Thank you," she replied modestly.

In those Muan days, a child was not raised with its parents. Instead, it was raised in the community at large. Jealousy and possessiveness was unheard of. Because children were special and rare, all the villagers took part in the child's upbringing, sharing their most special traits and talents with that child.

The prophets spoke again. "As tradition is kept, you will be with a different man for seven days, during which you will conceive a girl child."

Her head bent down to receive blessings. She murmured, "Thank you."

One of the men who would stay with her was her husband Onaku. Esmerlinga felt very proud that her husband would share her celebration with her. This was not always the case. She congratulated herself on her choice of husbands. She and Onaku had been granted a great honor. Esmerlinga turned red with awe.

The other men named were all familiar and comfortable to be with, and Esmerlinga thanked her good fortune.

The night of the auspicious full moon marked the first day of her keeping. Onaku, her husband, shared that night with her. Onaku's seed rested in her body and a baby was conceived.

The other days passed uneventfully, as one by one, the six men came to spend their time with Esmerlinga. She kept her secret to herself, knowing that their seed was for nothing, as she was already pregnant.

The months passed swiftly while the movement inside her increased. "This is a lively baby," she mused.

The time of confinement grew to a close. People came from all over, not just her own community, but for miles and miles around. People came for the momentous birthing event. They pitched huts, started cooking fires, and settled down for the duration.

At seven in the evening, Esmerlinga's water broke.

The midwives smiled to themselves. "Another easy time. The prophets are so wise. They always know who to choose, for the labor to be short and easy."

At nine that evening, a girl child was born.

"Shimmera is her name," said the prophets. "A dancer in the stars, shimmering her light over all."

The child was wrapped tenderly in the softest of cloths.

From that moment, many of the women both from the village and those who had encamped nearby started lactating, their breasts bulging with milk.

Her mother got to hold her for the first and last time. "Dance with your heart, my daughter," Esmerlinga smiled.

The child opened its eyes and solemnly stared back at her. Then it got to the business of feeding. After the child drank her fill, Shimmera was taken to the encampment where the men and women of the village would care for her for the next two years of her life. Never putting her down, even to sleep, they would take turns holding, feeding, changing, burping, and caring for Shimmera.

Esmerlinga felt no sadness, knowing that she alone among all the village women had been blessed to carry a child. Her training had told her it was good to let go easily.

The baby grew fat and plump, and gurgled with happiness. She felt no lack of fatherly or motherly love, and was always content.

Years went by. Shimmera loved to dance. In fact, she hardly ever spoke. Instead her arms, hands, feet, her whole body moved in rhythm to express how she felt, what she wanted, what she loved, and what she disliked. She performed at all the local celebrations, her graceful lithe body moving in tune to the music.

People for miles around who watched her talked of her special gift of dance.

As she grew into womanhood there was a man who watched her from a distance, who felt nervous in her presence, and clumsily tried to talk to her. His name was Ogen.

One night Ogen got up his courage, took Shimmera aside, and told her of his love and his desire for her. "I want to be your mate," he explained.

Shimmera was overjoyed. She didn't move but looked into his loving eyes without blinking. She nodded, "Yes, I'll be yours."

Years flew swiftly by and although Ogen and Shimmera grew to be old, they remained youthful as children, simple in their pleasures, and healthy as young saplings.

Unfortunately, one day Shimmera fell accidentally from a cliff. Ogen carried her home

The healers came to attend her immediately. Her back was broken. Her pelvic bone misaligned while one leg was completely splintered. They knew they could save her life, but they had no notion whether she could ever walk again, not to mention being able to dance.

Shimmera could not tolerate these conclusions and refused to let the Healers touch her with their hands, nor their words or thoughts.

Ogen held Shimmera's hand. He could feel the life ebbing out of her.

"Don't leave me, my beloved!" he cried.

"I don't want to live if I can't dance," whispered Shimmera. "I'm going to leave, my darling. Perhaps we'll meet again."

He kissed her mouth, but it was already lifeless.

The healers shook their heads. Shimmera had willed herself to die.

Just then Anna Pavlova's mother awakened her roughly, "Anna, Anna, wake up. You're going to be late for your ballet lesson. Hurry!"

Anna, still sleepy, shrugged the blankets off. The room was dark. Dawn had not yet broken. She picked up her dancing shoes, starting to get dressed, and thought, "What an odd dream that was. How very odd."

#

#

# ASK FOR WHAT YOU WANT

#

Once upon a time there was a girl named Yvonne. She was rather shy and not very pretty. She was short and chubby, while her large breasts overwhelmed her body. She had one special possession in her life, however. She had an unusual crystal ball.

It was a large crystal ball with three holding holes to carry it around. This crystal ball had luminous specks throughout its smooth surface. Yvonne placed it on a velvet cloth on her dresser. Whenever her Mom came in, Yvonne covered the ball up with the cloth. When Yvonne stared at this ball long enough, she could hear things. Yvonne could tell what was going on by simply listening to this crystal ball.

Yvonne remembered vividly the day that she had heard about a wonderful birthday party to be held for Kathy Ann Evans. It was to be the birthday party of the year, with clowns, prizes, and lots of boys and girls. She badly wanted to attend. As the days went by, she eagerly checked the mail, but no invitation arrived. The party was to be on Saturday, but by Friday, still no invitation had come for her.

Suppressing her intense disappointment, Yvonne went into her room to talk with the crystal ball. She unwrapped the cloth and sat and stared. After a while, she heard words.

The words said, "They are not going to invite you. They are angry at you, and are jealous of me, your crystal ball. Pretend that you don't care!"

Yvonne went to school on Monday, pretending she was fine, but burning with jealousy inside. Sure enough the other children who had been invited talked about the party to those who didn't, but they never talked to Yvonne.

Yvonne told kids at school that she had a crystal ball, it was her friend and gave her messages. No one seemed to care. Yvonne became more distant and lonely.

Yvonne grew into adulthood. By this time, she had put on more weight. Her favorite occupations were reading, eating, and talking to her crystal ball. She got a job as a secretary.

Her life went along fine for several years. Then one day she was told her services would no longer be needed. She would be given two weeks' severance pay, and was instructed to clean out her desk and leave the premises. Yvonne was stunned. "What happened?" she wondered.

She went home, munching a piece of fudge cake with one hand, and touching her crystal ball with the other. "Crystal ball, tell me what happened?" After a while Yvonne could hear words.

"They don't like you because you're fat, and stupid. You can't do anything right. You might as well stay home and eat."

Yvonne did stay home for a couple of months, collected unemployment and ate. She got bored and lonely, so she went out and found another job, not as good as the first, and a lower salary.

She met a man at work. They dated for a while. Then he asked her to marry him. So she did.

With the birth of her child, she quit work to stay home and care for the baby. She wasn't particularly fond of her husband but at least she didn't have to work and be fat and stupid in public.

She decided to have another chat with her crystal ball when the baby was about a year old. The ball said, "You must work hard to be a good wife and mother. Otherwise, you won't be loved, and you'll end up alone again."

Yvonne worked diligently at keeping the house immaculate and working lovingly with the baby. She got a job to do at home, to supplement their income. At night she was exhausted and irritable with her husband, who became more and more distant.

Yvonne became very tired. She sprained her ankle, but wouldn't rest it. She had an appendectomy, but was up walking around within a day in order to care for the baby and cook dinner, even though she walked hunched over and her side hurt.

Finally, Yvonne's body could take it no more, and she became quite ill and feverish. She shivered with sweat. She lay in bed more dead than alive. She dragged herself over to the table where she kept the crystal ball. She uncovered the faded cloth. "Crystal ball, tell me what to do?

"Your mother should be here helping you. If she loved you, that's what she would do. But you always have to do everything by yourself. That's the problem." Yvonne dragged herself back to bed, and hugging the baby close, cried herself to sleep.

Later, Yvonne was awakened by a knock on the door. She lay the baby in his crib. With her eyes half open, and hobbling to the door, she opened it to find a neighbor clutching some envelopes.

"Hi, Yvonne. The mailman delivered these to me but it is your mail."

"Thank you. Please come in," replied Yvonne. "I'll make some coffee."

"No, no. I know you've been sick. If you like, I'll sit with you for a few minutes, and then you can go back to bed."

Yvonne insisted on making coffee and toast for the neighbor, even though she protested. Yvonne dropped into a chair, her face white and shiny with perspiration.

"You know," said the neighbor, "it would be helpful if you would ask for some assistance."

"The trouble is that no one ever wants to help me," said Yvonne, wistfully.

"Why not? Do you ever ask?"

"Well no," admitted Yvonne. "But I always consult my crystal ball, and it tells me what is happening."

"Crystal ball?" replied the neighbor. "What is that?"

"Come in here" said Yvonne, as she shuffled off to her bedroom. The neighbor followed, brimming with curiosity.

"Look," said Yvonne proudly. "This is my crystal ball. Whenever I want to know something, I stare at it and pretty soon I hear words." Yvonne uncovered the ball.

The neighbor stared, then begin to laugh. "Oh, Yvonne, that is just a bowling ball. It's very pretty, though. But I don't think it will talk to you."

Yvonne's eyes opened wide with surprise. Her mouth was opening and closing but no sounds were forthcoming. Finally, she swallowed and whispered, "A bowling ball. I have trusted my whole life to a bowling ball."

Then Yvonne poured out her whole life story to the neighbor lady, the birthday party, being fired from her job, to up to the present time when she had become sick.

Gently the neighbor leaned over, and gave Yvonne's shoulder a little squeeze. "You know what you could have done instead, Yvonne? You could have asked for what you wanted. Did you ever do that? "

"No," gasped Yvonne, still reeling from the shock. "You mean that's all I have to do when I want something, is to ask?"

"I don't know if you will get what you ask for. But you won't get it or even have a chance to get anything unless you ask for what you want."

Yvonne mumbled to herself. "Ask for what I want. Hmmm."

"See you later. Hope you feel better." The neighbor lady quietly let herself out the front door.

Then Yvonne sat up quite tall and straight. "It's either time to ask for what I want," she said to herself, "or else learn how to bowl."

#

# HEATHER GREEN GRASS

#

Once upon a time there was an Indian tribe that lived near the wide ocean. They had their encampment on the bluffs overlooking the water. Their home on the cliff overlooking the blue ocean was tranquil. At the edge of their camp was a lush green forest, brimming with deer, elk, and wild game of all kinds. The women would gather nuts and berries and herbs. Their life was full and good.

There was a girl that lived in the tribe, a little Indian girl by the name of Heather Green Grass. She was named after the beautiful flowers and grass that grew around her tribal home.

Heather Green Grass was not happy. Often she had to gather berries and nuts or wash clothes in the nearby river, or to attend the fires for cooking. All she wanted to do was sit on the bluff overlooking the ocean, and dream. Or better yet, to climb down the hill and splash in the water all day. She didn't have time for that, though. She had to do her chores.

Heather Green Grass grew ill, and with each day she got sicker and sicker. The Medicine Man was called in. He said his special words over her. He placed his healing feathers of the bald eagle right next to her body. He applied special soothing herbal lotions on her forehead and on her feet. But nothing helped.

Heather Green Grass continued to grow steadily worse. Finally it appeared to the Medicine Man that Heather may die. Her forehead burned with fever. Her body shook with convulsions. She was pale and lifeless, and no one knew what to do.

The tribe performed a dance for Heather, to bring her back to life.

One of the Spirit Brothers from the sky appeared. He talked to her kindly and lovingly.

He said, "Heather Green Grass. You must not die. There is much for you to live for, much to be done."

Heather Green Grass replied, with her eyes still closed, "Brother Spirit, I'm tired. I don't want to work. I don't want to do anything. I want to become invisible like you and go away from my people, up into the sky world."

Brother Spirit continued, "You cannot run away. There is work to accomplish in life, and learning, and you must strive to achieve all of it. I know that you're tired. Most people get tired. If you can change your attitude, then you'll have time to go down to the sea periodically. The rest of the time you have to do your work, though. You'll be much better off."

He also told her that she was very special, that she could grow up to be like the Medicine Man. In fact, she could be better than the Medicine Man. All she had to do was take her own responsibility. She must not die or dream her life away any more.

Then he tied an amulet bag of the sun around her neck, to represent that she was waking up and glowing with energy. In the bag he placed a crystal from under the earth, so Heather would remember that she was special. Even though she might have work to do and get tired, she could refresh herself from time to time and feel happy. Then he left.

She opened her eyes. In her eyes the crystal and the sun amulet were reflected. Heather Green Grass's fever disappeared. Her body stopped shaking. Her color returned to normal.

Her parents, the Medicine Man and the tribe members were happy to see her waking up and healing. They had been afraid that she was going to leave them, to abide in the invisible lands of the Spirits. Now they knew she was restored to them for the rest of her life.

#

# TEENIE THE ELF

#

Eons ago when the earth was young, at the edge of the earth elves lived and flourished in an elf-land. There lived King Edward and Queen Iris who were blessed with eight wonderful elfen children. After a number of years Queen Iris had her ninth and last child, a girl. They named her Claudia Tina Anna Marie. Teenie for short.

Teenie was a happy, bubbly baby. All her brothers and sisters loved her dearly, and would take turns bouncing her on their laps and playing with her. She smiled and gurgled at everyone. Whenever a person was around Teenie, she would grin at them and hold her arms out to them for a hug. People always felt good being around the baby.

Teenie loved playing with others. Her nurse never had to worry about Teenie. She never got into mischief and could always be found wherever children were noisily playing. Teenie never whined or complained, either. So others happily included her in their games.

When Teenie was 12 she got sick. Her mother, Queen Iris, called for a doctor. The doctor examined Teenie and found that her brain was quite unwell. The doctor told Queen Iris and King Edward that Teenie's brain would have to be operated on. They were upset but agreed to the surgery.

Teenie was operated on. Within the same day she was bouncing up and down the hall of the hospital, cheering up the other children, and talking to all the nurses. Her room was full of flowers, and balloons and presents from all of her family and others who loved her. In a few short days she was able to go home.

When Teenie turned 16, she was taller than all the members of her family, including her father. She wore a size 11 shoe, which had to be specially made by the cobbler elf. She felt self-conscious and asked her family if they would start calling her by one of her regular names. "I'm not so Teenie anymore," she told them.

"But sweetheart," her mother would reply. "You are so dear and cute, I don't notice your size!"

Teenie mumbled under her breath.

Then Teenie became ill again. The regular elf doctor examined her, then called in an elf specialist. After they had conferred, they told Teenie and her parents that she needed another operation on her brain. This one would be more dangerous. Queen Iris and King Edward once again agreed to let them perform surgery on their darling Teenie's brain.

After a few days Teenie was up walking the hospital halls. She visited and played with the other children. She talked with the nurses. Everyone felt so much better with Teenie around.

After a week of being hospitalized, Teenie went home to her family. All of her brothers and sisters were older and had jobs now, so they weren't able to play with Teenie very much. All of them except Teenie had Very Important Jobs.

Teenie's oldest brother was Minister of Finance, and worked with forms and figures all day long.

Teenie's oldest sister had always loved horses, so she was in charge of the royal stable.

Teenie's next to oldest sister was concerned with the poor and sick elves in the kingdom. She worked making sure everyone had enough nourishing food, a place to live, and proper medical care.

Teenie complained to her mother. "I'm almost grown-up now, and it's time for me to have a Very Important Job, too."

But her mother just hugged Teenie and smiled. "My sweetie-pie, you are precious just the way you are!" and she hugged her again.

Teenie sulked. She played with the servant's children. But she didn't feel as light-hearted as she had before. After a while she wasn't hungry anymore. She picked at her food, hardly tasting the delicious morsels. When someone asked her about her appetite, Teenie shrugged her shoulders.

Teenie's hair started to lose its shine and luster. It hung in limp strands around her face. Her shoulders drooped. Her eyes lost their sparkle and glow. Her face took on a yellowish tinge.

Her parents became alarmed at the change in their once happy daughter. They called in the doctor again. After a thorough examination, the elf doctor explained that he could not find anything wrong with Teenie.

Queen Iris went to her room to cry.

King Edward asked Teenie if there was something wrong, but his daughter just clenched her teeth and looked at the floor. He sighed, and went over to hug Teenie.

She didn't respond, her arms hanging limply at her sides.

He sadly walked out to his minister's chambers.

Teenie aimlessly wandered around the castle. She went to her room and sat on her bed. She absent-mindedly fiddled with the many stuffed animals she had assembled there. There was a knock on her door.

"Who is it?" Teenie asked lethargically.

"It is me, your old nurse Nanny. Can I come in? "

"Oh, yes," said Teenie. She hopped off her bed and went to the door. She had a special place in her heart for Nanny. "Come in."

Nanny's old heart became dismayed when she saw Teenie's altered appearance. "Tell your Nanny what is going on," she said.

Words started tumbling out of Teenie's mouth. "There's no reason for me to be alive. All my brothers and sisters have Special Jobs in the kingdom, but I don't. I'm not worth anything. I might as well be dead."

Nanny hugged Teenie close to her. "Is that what you think? Oh, my darling child. You have much value. No one ever told you what your Special Job is, did they? "

Teenie just shook her head no.

Nanny put her arms around Teenie like she used to when Teenie was a small child, and rocked her, even though Teenie was now quite large. "Your very Special Job is to spread Joy and Happiness throughout the kingdom."

Teenie stopped her and looked into her eyes, amazed.

"Yes, to spread joy and happiness. I'm surprised you didn't know that. You've been doing that since you were a small child. You would light up a room when you would prance in. And I want you to know that this is a Very Special Job and only a Very Special Person could fill this job. That person is you, Teenie."

A big smile came over Teenie's face. "I never knew it, but it does make sense. Thank you for telling me, Nanny." She gave her old nurse a warm hug. "I'm hungry. Let's go see what there is to eat."

Teenie and the Nurse made their way arm in arm to the royal kitchen.

#

#

# DARK DEAN GOES TO WASHINGTON

#

Once upon a time, there was a fellow by the name of Dark Dean. He was so enthralled with his country and felt so good living in his country that he had his country's flag tattooed on his chest. Dark Dean was proud of himself and his patriotism. He thought he'd like to do something even more valuable than having his country's flag tattooed on his chest.

Thereupon he went to the Big City. He looked around to see if there would be someone who could tell him how to serve his country better. He found a gigantic building and in it there were many men in offices. They all wore grey suits and looked tidy and official to Dark Dean.

He stopped at one of the offices with the title USA Inc.* imprinted on the door. He poked his head in and saw a man sitting at a desk. "Hi, my name is Dark Dean. I love my country a lot. I want to help my country."

"Dean, glad to meet you! My name is Mr. Carpinelli."

Dean shook his proffered hand, then opened his shirt to show the tattoo of the flag emblazoned on it. "Look, Mr. Carpinelli."

"Very impressive, Dean."

"Is there anything you need help with, sir? I'm here to offer my services."

"Yes, certainly young man. Come right on in. I'd like for you to join us. We are in charge of getting rid of all the bad and evil people in the world. You could do a great service here and help us out so much! If you would like to, we will send you to different places around the world to take care of all those bad and evil people that are making trouble."

Dark Dean grew excited. "Oh, yes, Mr. Carpinelli. I'd like to do that! I know there are a lot of bad people in the world. I want to make sure they don't hurt anyone. Tell me what I can do."

"For your assistance I'm going to give you this tool." He handed Dean an object.

"Wow, Mr. Carpinelli. This is a nice present. It's very shiny. It's heavy, too. What is it?"

"This is a bad person blaster. You point this at a bad person, push this button, and it disappears him. Then he's not around anymore to do bad things."

"That's great! What a neat idea," replied Dark Dean. "I'd like to go out and start using this blaster right away, if I could."

"Let me think. Oh yes. In a place far away from here is a country surrounded by sand. A mean and nasty person lives there. We would like you to go there and blast that man into disappearing, so he can't hurt anybody anymore. And he can't hurt USA Inc. anymore either."

"Right away, I'm leaving right now," said Dark Dean. He rushed to the airport, boarded an airplane and took off to the land of Sands. When Dark Dean got there he discovered it was harder than simply walking up to a mean person and pushing the button on his blaster. He learned that he had to be tricky. He learned he had to pretend to be somebody else so he could get close enough to that bad person.

One night Dark Dean realized he had the perfect opportunity. He snuck into the bad person's bed chamber, pushed the button on his blaster and "poof," the bad person was gone, never to be seen anymore.

Dark Dean was so excited, he rushed back to the Big City to tell Mr. Carpinelli all about it.

Mr. Carpinelli smiled and said, "Yes, Dark Dean, I can see that you're happy. Just remember that I didn't send you there."

"What? What do you mean?"

"You took care of a bad person with your blaster," Mr. Carpinelli continued. "You did a fine job. You did a great job! I'm sure that your country is proud, especially USA Inc. Thank you for having done such fine disappearing work."

"But, but Mr. Carpinelli," Dark Dean sputtered. "You're the one who told me about that bad man and what I should do."

"Did I? Oh, I must have forgotten. Well, thank you anyway for taking care of this matter."

Dark Dean was confused. Mr. Carpinelli had totally forgotten their entire conversation from earlier. "Well, maybe there was a whole lot on Mr. Carpinelli's mind," he said to himself as he left Mr. Carpinelli's office.

Three days later Mr. Carpinelli called Dean back into his office. "Dark Dean, I have just found out there is another bad person. He lives in a very cold country surrounded by huge buildings and a lot of unsmiling men. I wonder if you'd like to take a visit there and see what you could do with your blaster."

"Oh, Mr. Carpinelli. I would be happy to do that," said Dean. Immediately he left to go to that cold country.

As before, he spent a lot of time pretending to be somebody he wasn't, until he could get close enough to, and win the trust of, the bad man. He then took care of the matter and forever disappeared the bad man with his blaster.

Dark Dean spent many, many years doing this kind of service, going around the world, blasting bad men and making them disappear. He knew he was making the world safer for everyone else. He was confused as to how there was still wars and still lots of bad men who were hurting people that had to be taken care of, even though he used his blaster so effectively and often.

One day Dark Dean was on one of his assignments in a foreign country. He was sleeping fitfully that afternoon. He was exhausted from disappearing bad men.

He had a hideous dream. He dreamt that he was in a nasty place, with flames all around and burning oil and people screaming. Little infant devils were jumping up and down on his stomach with pitchforks, stabbing at him and making him hurt, and pouring oil all over him and making him burn.

He kept screaming, "Stop! Stop! Why are you doing this to me?"

The devils were laughing and saying, "It's because you're doing such a good job for us. We thought you'd like to see what it felt like."

"What do you mean?" asked Dark Dean of these devils and imps. "What do you mean? How can I be working for you?"

"You know Mr. Carpinelli, don't you?"

"Oh yes, I know Mr. Carpinelli very well. He works for my country."

"Ha, ha, ha! That's a good one," laughed the biggest devil of them all. "Who told you that?"

"Well, Mr. Carpinelli did, I think," said Dark Dean. "I mean, he is a good man. He takes care of all these bad men by disappearing them all over the world, and I help with my blaster."

"Oh my goodness," said the big devil, tears of mirth rolling down his devil cheeks. "You are really confused. Listen closely. I need to tell you a few things. First of all, there is no such thing as Bad Men. There are no bad people. There are just people who do bad things to other people. Now, Mr. Carpinelli has been working with us for a long time. In fact it's been so long that he doesn't even have insides anymore. His insides have disappeared. All he's got inside is sawdust. "

Dark Dean flushed very white. He stuttered, "No, no this can't be true. I can't believe this it is true. I don't believe you. Mr. Carpinelli is wonderful. He helps make peace all over the world."

The devil just grinned. "Well, if that's what you want to believe, then go right ahead." And he laughed and laughed, poking Dark Dean with his pitchfork, making him scream in agony.

Dark Dean woke up drenched with sweat. "Oh, this is a horrible dream. I've got to go tell Mr. Carpinelli right away." So Dark Dean left his assignment and flew back to the Big City. He ran into Mr. Carpinelli's office.

"Mr. Carpinelli. I had the worst dream last night! I wanted to come here and tell you about it."

"Sit down, sit down, my boy. Tell me about your dream."

"I dreamt that I was in an awful place and devils were burning me with hot oil and piercing me with pitchforks. They were telling me that you work for these devils, and I work for them too."

Mr. Carpinelli sat back with a smile. "Well, I guess you could say that's true."

Dark Dean got angry. "What do you mean? It can't be true. Aren't we saving people all over the world? Aren't we making peace and taking care of all these bad people by making them disappear with my blaster? "

"That's true. Isn't it fun, though? Don't you like it? I feel so good when I disappear people out of existence. Don't you?"

Dark Dean couldn't believe what he heard. He ran over to Mr. Carpinelli's desk, reached over, grabbed his shirt and ripped it open. He wanted to see his chest. All he saw was a giant zipper. He pulled the zipper down Mr. Carpinelli's chest to look inside. There wasn't even sawdust. "That devil told me you were full of sawdust."

Mr. Carpinelli said, "I lost the sawdust some time ago."

Dark Dean couldn't believe it. Mr. Carpinelli was totally empty. He ran out of the office of USA Inc.* as fast as he could and down the street, fearing those devils would be after him again. He could hear Mr. Carpinelli's laugh echoing behind him. "What have I done? What have I done? I have to leave this City." He threw his blaster into a nearby dumpster. Then Dark Dean ran for a long time until he had left the Big City far behind.

(*Thanks to James O. Holmes)

#

#

# LUMINOUS LAURA

#

Once upon a time, there was a tiny firefly by the name of Laura. Although she was a miniscule firefly, her family called her Luminous Laura, because she was quite bright.

Luminous Laura was an intelligent and quick little thing. She loved flying through the dark forest that she lived in. It was a massive forest with big trees, with wide branches while the light from the sun hardly showed. It was her home and she loved it.

She noticed from time to time visitors passed through the forest on their way to Somewhere Else. As they ventured through, they stumbled on rocks, scrapped their shins on stones, and tripped over the massive roots of trees. They had a horrid time finding their way to the end of the forest and into the safety of the clearing beyond.

Laura felt sorry for the travelers. She endeavored to light their path with the light from her firefly body. But it was impossible. She didn't cast enough light. So she couldn't help.

People continued to stumble and fall and trip, and even wander off the path through the dark forest, because there was no illumination.

Sometimes Luminous Laura asked the Godfather of Fireflies, "Oh Godfather, why can't I help these people? I feel so bad for them. I want to assist them, so they don't have to struggle any more."

Godfather told her, "You are a little firefly and don't cast much light. But you are wonderful the way you are."

She would then heave a sigh and go about her life, still noticing that people got lost and tripped over obstacles on their sojourn through the forest.

Then Laura grew into a teenage firefly. She thought, "Now I'm bright enough." So once again she attempted to guide people through the forest, but to no avail. She still wasn't bright enough and could only be seen as an insignificant speck of light, flitting through the dark forest.

Laura was determined, because she was concerned about travelers through the forest and wanted to be of assistance. She knew that somehow, someway they could be helped. So again she talked to Godfather of Fireflies, and ask him why she couldn't help.

Godfather told her, "Laura, just light your own way. That is all you need to do. That's the only path that is important for you to know. Just watch where you are going. You are not required to help anyone else."

She breathed a deep sigh of regret and flew home.

Then Laura became an adult. She had listened very carefully to Godfather Firefly's words, and no longer was she resolved to light other people's paths through the dark forest. She loved that she was a firefly. She had a great time with all the other fireflies in the forest, living her life, and learning her own lessons.

One day she was flying just above the path to watch visitors who were struggling through the forest. Suddenly a miraculous beacon of light came shimmering down from Godfather Firefly who was hovering just behind her. Godfather Firefly followed behind Laura. Thus, he illumined the path for the visitors.

Laura was overjoyed. She flew to the edge of the forest with the guiding light just behind her. The visitors could see their way. No longer would they struggle and fall as they had done. The visitors traversed the forest safely and easily. She was proud and happy to have Godfather's gift. 

#

#

# THE MAN WHO COULDN'T DIE

#

Once upon a time, there was a man named John who was quite wise. He taught other people to see the truth. He taught them many wonderful things. He helped them to laugh themselves right out of their problems and into the Light.

However, John was a frail man. His heart was as thin as paper. So he made plans to have his heart repaired. When the doctors operated on him, they found his heart was so fragile that the stitches wouldn't hold. Consequently John died.

John's friends and students mourned and cried, except for three of them, Oscar, Sandy and Loretta.

John visited all three of them the day that he died. He appeared as a vision to them.

They were sad, because they could never hug him anymore or go to lunch with him. Yet, the essence of who he was and what he believed in and what he thought couldn't ever die, so they felt relieved. They knew that whatever his purpose had been in life would continue. He would be the teacher and wise person whom they had always loved.

Four days after John's "death," there was a special memorial service for him. A great crowd of his friends, students, and lovers were there to pay homage to the wonderful and unique man.

Most of the people were in grief and crying, but Oscar, Sandy, and Loretta stood to the side. John wasn't dead to them; he was still quite alive. John's essence wasn't in the coffin; that was simply the body he had lived in. John lived in their hearts and memories and spoke so they could hear him.

They watched the memorial service. The speaker was eloquent. The music was touching and most people were needing to use their hankies. However, the three friends, Loretta, Oscar, and Sandy remembered a man who enjoyed life, who loved to have fun, and who had profound understanding of how the universe worked. They saw him clearly.

In fact, Loretta told the story of what she had seen at the memorial service. She saw John coming towards her even though her eyes were closed. She saw him quite clearly. As he danced up to her, she started to chuckle. She was concerned that the people around her would think she was an unfeeling person. But John had such a wide grin, that she could not stop. She whispered to him, "John you have quite a sense of the dramatic! Did you know by dying young, so many people would come to your funeral? "

John laughed. "Of course. You know how I've lived. I've always liked special occasions, and I've always loved to laugh. Look at this! So many people have come who love me. What a wonderful send off. I wish they could see me like you see me, though. That would make me feel best of all. Without them being able to see me, it's like they have lost something." With that he skipped off to a grassy area nearby and danced there.

Sandy said she experienced the same thing as Loretta.

Oscar added, "Well, you know how much I've wanted John to take a motorcycle ride with me? Today driving over here on my Honda, I felt something behind me on the seat. It was John, his hands on my shoulders, his hair blowing in the wind. I didn't feel bad after that!"

Sandy said, "It's hard for me to feel sad, when John is right here. I wish the others could see him like I do."

The three friends grinned at each other.

John saw and heard all this from the grassy area where he was dancing. He threw his head back and laughed. "I'm so happy I'll always be able to be with my friends."

#

#

# THE BLAMER

#

Once upon a time there was a boy named Willie. In the outskirts of Carlisle he grew, the small town people a simple folk.

Willie was arrogant, full of practical jokes and angry. He felt he never got enough of his share of anything. And if a mistake was made, he always accused someone else. In fact, he pointed his finger in blame so often that it was more tanned than the rest of his body.

Willie's favorite occupation was to sit by the lake and fret about who he was upset with that day and to plan furious revenge.

While he was sitting at the edge of the lake one summer day, a strange light appeared on the horizon. A glowing rock fell from the sky and landed in the lake, sizzling the water as it settled to the bottom.

Willie felt a curious tingling in his body, and he was worried. He hurried home, without mentioning the incident to anyone.

Willie stayed in his room for several days, still vibrating, only coming out to eat. After days passed he felt braver and the tingling subsided, so Willie ventured out. He decided to go out to the garage and play a little basketball. When he found the ball, however, he discovered that the air had gone out of it. Seething with resentment, Willie decided his younger sister had let the air out of the ball as a joke.

He stormed into the house calling her name. When she came out of her room, Willie screamed, "It's all your fault my ball is useless!" He pointed his finger at her and hissed at her like a snake, so great was his anger.

A bright red spot appeared on his sister's cheek, at the approximate spot where his finger pointed. A couple of drops of blood seeped out and dripped down her cheek.

His sister cried out, holding her cheek, "I never touched your stupid ball. Don't you remember? Last week you were throwing it at rocks. You must have deflated it yourself!" With that she ran crying to their mother's room.

Willie shouted after her. "I don't believe you. You are always trying to make up excuses. It's your fault my ball is ruined." With that Willie flounced out of the house, slamming the screen door behind him.

Willie ran to the back of the barn to his favorite think spot. "Why can't people just accept when it's their fault?" mused Willie. "She is always trying to get out of things, and then mom takes her side. It isn't fair!"

It was a very warm day. Flies buzzed around his face, annoying Willie even more.

"Flies - get out of here," growled Willie, pointing his finger at them.

Instantly the air was still. The flies were gone.

Willie was startled. "Well, it serves them right for bothering me."

Willie decided that since he was hot, he would walk to town and get an ice cream cone. He remembered he had some allowance saved up. He hurried to his room, and got the money from his hiding spot.

Willie was dripping with sweat when he arrived at the "Welcome to Carlisle" sign. He got to the ice cream store, but it was closed. On the door was a sign, "Gone Fishing. Back Later."

Willie screamed with the heat and his aggravation, "How could you do this to me?" He pointed at the sign, and hollered "I hope you burn up like I'm burning up," then turned and strode down the street to the general store. He didn't notice the "Gone Fishing'" sign burst into flames, which caught on the window shade, which then ignited a stack of comic books for sale, and within minutes red angry flames licked at the store. Willie was guzzling a bottle of cold soda pop at the general store when the siren went off to alert the local fire volunteers. Before leaving, Willie slid a Pocketbook Action Western into his pocket, and turned for home.

"Hey, you, boy," shouted the owner, running to the door. "Bring back that book or else pay me for it!"

Willie turned and pointed at him. "Drop dead," he snarled, and then he turned and ran. The owner lay on the doorstep, eyes bulging, legs wiggling like a dying bug, stomach up.

Willie decided he would take a long path around to home, to show his new book to Johnny, his some-time friend. But by the time he got to Johnny's house, Willie was in a very foul mood. Running, then not getting ice cream, and being hollered at, while the weather was hot and sticky, did not make for a sweet disposition. He was informed by the boy's mother that Johnny was sick and couldn't play.

Willie seethed. Under his breath he muttered, "You bum! I've gone out of my way, and now you have to be sick." He decided to sneak around back and see if Johnny wanted to talk through his window. "Johnny," Willie whispered through the open window. "Johnny, look at the neat book I got!"

Johnny lay on his bed, beads of sweat on his forehead and lip, tossing and turning in feverish sleep.

"Johnny," said Willie, loudly now, more aggravated than before. "Wake up!"

Since the window was on the ground floor, Willie decided to climb in through the window, and wake up his friend. As he was clambering in, Willie saw a nasty looking boy in front of him, who looked back at him, snarling. Willie pointed at him, thinking it was Johnny's brother. "Disappear, fool."

Lightning crackled back from Willie's reflection in the mirror, and in an instant, Willie was gone.

Willie's parents and the townspeople decided that whoever had started the fire in the ice cream parlor, and killed old Jake at the general store, must have taken Willie too. The police were notified, but no suspects ever showed up. In truth, Willie's parents were somewhat relieved that their obnoxious, hateful son was gone.

Flies returned, buzzing around screen doors, while the sleepy town of Carlisle returned to normal.

#

# GOD'S LAP

#

Annie Sinclair had spent most of her 55 years in hatred. She generally stayed away from people because she was sure they were out to hurt her.

Her beautician wholeheartedly agreed. "Men especially are bums and women should stay clear of them if they were smart."

Annie remembered with vivid clarity her wedding day. Her exquisite white dress had cost a fortune. But Joel was worth it.

Annie had loved him for all she was worth. Handsome, charming Joel. She remembered how she enjoyed running her fingers through his thick, soft hair. He had a blue sheen to his face, even after shaving, that made him irresistibly masculine. The dual mirrors of his electric blue eyes made Annie feel that she was the most attractive woman in the whole world. Or at least Minneapolis. The cleft in his chin finished the image of Adonis. Annie drew in her breath with a shudder thinking about him. Joel was surely intended to be a god.

Annie shook her head violently to get the memories of Joel out of her mind. It was too late. She recalled that day, which glistened with happiness. The wedding guests had gathered. The chocolate cake was formed into six delicious tiers with vanilla frosting. Bowls of mints and nuts awaited the hungry guests.

But Joel never arrived. He didn't even call. All that was left was the burning in Annie's stomach at the humiliation and shame. She had asked her father to talk to the relatives and friends, to express her embarrassment. Through the crack in the doorway of the wedding chapel, Annie could hear murmured words of condolence. A funereal quiet spread throughout the church. People tiptoed back to their cars, and returned home.

Later, much later Annie heard through the grapevine that Joel had eloped that very day with Melissa Gray. "The blonde bitch who thought she was god's gift to men!" Annie burned with jealousy and loathing.

So Annie had turned away from men, the gentle and kind ones shunned along with cruel ones like Joel. She closed her heart to love, except for a continuing parade of pet dogs. "At least they'll always be loyal," Annie explained to herself.

Even women friends were suspect. It was better to be safe than be hurt again. After all these years the old pain had never left or even diminished.

When she went to her job at the Social Security office, she was sure people laughed and talked about her behind her back. She carried her lunch in a brown paper bag every day. Sometimes she got lonely at lunch time. She wished people would ask her to join them for lunch. No one ever did.

Annie hated looking in the mirror, watching herself age day by day. Her mouth drooped, making wide lines alongside her mouth. Her looks had become permanent that, even though she smiled at her reflection, her jowls looked like a bulldog she had once owned. |

At 5:00 o'clock she would shut down her computer. Then go home and prepare a little supper. She would sit and eat and watch TV until it was time for bed. Sometimes a dog would jump up on the couch beside her. She would absent-mindedly scratch behind the dog's ears.

One evening while watching TV, Annie felt restless. It was hard to concentrate on even her favorite soap-opera that night.

"I wish I had... something or someone. I feel like I'll die alone. I don't want that! But how can I make friends. Oh, I guess I'm feeling old tonight. Maybe God, if there is a God, can help. Oh, what's the use." She sniffed back tears. "No sense in getting maudlin at this late date." She got herself another bowl of almond double fudge rocky road ice cream from the 'fridge.

As she sat down in front of the 88" inch screen she was still making payments on, it made a popping noise and went black. Annie turned the power on and off a few times. Nothing. She smacked the TV with her hand. She succeeded in hurting her hand but the set was still dead.

"Annie?"

Who was calling her?

"Annie!"

She went to the front door and opened it. No one was there.

"Oh, Annie." The sound seemed to be coming from the lifeless TV screen.

Annie walked over to it.

"Hi, Annie."

Annie jumped, frightened at the prospect of the TV talking to her. Her heart pounded wildly. Scenes from horror movies popped into her head.

"Annie." The voice sounded gentler. "I won't hurt you. I promise. Why don't you sit down on the couch?"

Annie fell more than sat down on the cushions.

"Now close your eyes."

"Why?"

"Close your eyes, my child."

Annie felt her heart give a little thump.

But the voice was comforting.

Annie closed her eyes.

As she did so, Annie experienced the sensation of being picked up gently and placed like a small innocent child on a huge lap.

Strong loving arms encircled her, holding her, comforting her. Against her better judgment Annie snuggled up in those arms, and leaned against the expansive chest. She began to breathe deeply, feeling more loved and consoled than ever in her life.

The arms began to rock her, oh, so gently and soothingly. Annie felt her heart burst open. Years of accumulated fear, anger and sadness poured out, and washed away.

Annie sat in that protective lap for a long time. Little by little her emotional tide began to ebb. A deep sense of peace and well-being seeped into the emptiness where violent feelings used to reside.

"Am I in heaven? Is this God?" Annie asked herself. She sighed. It didn't matter. She felt like she had come home at last.

Then she experienced a sensation like floating upwards. A warm fog surrounded her. It was so bright that even with her eyes closed, Annie could see the light, brilliant, brighter than the sun.

When she had floated up to a very high elevation, Annie opened her eyes. She blinked to get used to the intensity of light. She had a desire to look down.

Far below her on the ground was a bunch of dots spread out in a line. Annie couldn't tell if it was an army of ants marching along or power lines. The dots spread out into the distance. The end of the line was shrouded by a thick mist.

The familiar voice spoke again. "Those are your lessons, Annie. You can see that from up here they look small and insignificant. And those lessons are all the same size aren't they?"

Annie looked down at her lessons in amazement.

"The lessons in your future are covered over with the mist. If you knew what they were, you couldn't learn from them. I want you to understand, Annie. The lessons were never meant to hurt you. The only person who hurt you was you. What you did with your lessons and how you thought about them hurt you. You created your own pain. And," the voice paused for extra emphasis, "the way out of your pain is to allow your lessons to just be. Don't fight them. Don't hide from them. Your lessons are meant to help your growth. Pain is optional. The key to peace is to surrender."

Annie looked up at the face for the first time. The white light around the face was blinding. Love poured from the eyes. As Annie felt the love enter her, the face dimmed and blanked out.

Suddenly a human face was looking down at her. Green hospital walls with curtains all around her gurney provided a backdrop with glaring fluorescent lights overhead.

A nametag "Lucy Burns, LVN." Above the nametag was a small rainbow pinned to her white blouse. "Good morning," Miss Burns said cheerfully. "You gave us a run for it, love, but I knew you'd pull through. You had a stroke. But you'll be fine, now." She picked up Annie's hand and gave it an affectionate squeeze. "I think you've been given a second chance."

"Yes," whispered Annie. "I have."

#

# THE MERMAN WHO WANTED TO DANCE

#

Once upon a time there was a merman named Michael. He was the very last merman in the world. Many mermaids and mermen, and merfamilies had existed for a long time. But he was the very last one. An orphan. After his mother died, Michael was raised by a pod of dolphins.

Michael missed being with his own kind. When he was told that he was the last merman and an orphan, that he would never know his mother or his father or any of his merpeople, he felt despondent. Although the dolphins were loving, happy, interesting creatures he longed for someone to relate to him, as he was. He couldn't make dolphin sounds and he didn't look like them. He knew that he would never be able to mate with any of them. He would always be an outsider. He desperately wanted some way to fit in.

He had one adopted brother dolphin by the name of Ohm. Ohm showed him all the ridges of the oceans. They would swim for days and weeks at a time, visiting all the wondrous places in the ocean. Sometimes they would rise to the surface and float there, looking at the puffy clouds in the blue sky canopy. Sometimes a ship would pass in the distance. Ohm and the merman could swim close enough to see beings walking on the ship. The beings looked very much like the merman. Only they could walk about on two legs instead of having a large fin.

One day Ohm and Michael found an island. On this island lived a group of human beings. One of them was a princess. She and her people came down to the shore of the ocean, to play and swim and dance. Ohm and the merman watched the princess and the people playing and dancing together.

Michael fell in love with the princess. "She is like me. Only she has legs and I only have a fin. Why can't I be like her? I don't fit in with the dolphins. I can swim underwater. But I'm not exactly like them either. I wish I could dance like her. Oh, I'm just a misfit. I don't belong anywhere. I would give anything to have legs like the princess." And he would sigh longingly as he watched her.

The princess crafted sandcastles in the sand. She sighed and stared out into the water, wishing there was a man who would fall in love with her. None of the men on the island suited her or cared for her, nor she for them.

The merman made it a point to visit the island frequently. In fact Ohm saw Michael less and less because the merman spent more time swimming by the island. The dolphin swam away to be with his dolphin pod, hoping that his merman friend would be taken care of and happy.

Every day the merman went to the island to watch the princess. She played and swam and made sandcastles. Then she would stare out into the horizon and sigh. Her sighs were like his sighs. He loved her more and more each day.

One day after he had been watching her for a long time, he decided to swim in much further to shore than he had swam before.

The princess caught sight of him and called to him. "You there in the water. Hello. I've never seen you before. Are you a stranger? Are you shipwrecked?"

Michael was so embarrassed that the princess had detected him that he swam away quickly.

The princess jumped in the water and swam after him but he was swimming much too fast for her. The princess returned to shore and dried herself off. "Did I really see that man? Was he a mirage or was he real? If he was real, why did he swim away? Why was he so frightened of me? I wouldn't hurt him."

The princess realized that he was the man that she had been coming down to the water to wait for. She ran to tell all her friends, that she had spotted her perfect lover.

Thereafter, the princess spent every day by the edge of the ocean.

The merman was afraid because she had caught sight of him. He stayed far away, watching her splash in the water, and feeling again like a misfit.

His friend, Ohm, swam up to him one day. Ohm saw the princess on the shore looking for the merman and the merman in the water looking longingly at the princess.

Ohm said, "Why don't you just go and introduce yourself to her?"

The merman said, "I couldn't possibly do that. Look at me. I have a fin. I would frighten her. She would be disgusted with me. We can never be together!"

Ohm said, "Listen. If the two of you love each other, something can be worked out. I'm certain of it. Wait a minute! I'm going to see King Neptune, who is ruler of the ocean, to find out if he could help you."

Ohm talked to King Neptune who gave him a message to relay to Michael. "The merman could have legs for two hours a day and walk on the island with his princess."

Ohm gave him the message.

The merman was overjoyed.

Every afternoon he sprouted legs. He and the princess walked and talked. After becoming closer, they kissed and held hands. They fell deeply in love with each other.

The merman was always vague about where he had come from and the princess decided not to ask questions. She accepted the fact that Michael would be with her for two hours every day.

Her friends wanted to meet Michael and encouraged the princess to marry him, as the two were so much in love. The princess suspected that couldn't happen.

One day the princess told him, "Michael, I don't want you to leave today. Please stay with me."

The merman said, "I would stay with you, but I want you to know that I will go through a change that may upset or frighten or even disgust you. You may not ever want to see me again, but I think it is time for you to see me as I really am. Perhaps then you will understand why I can stay for only two hours.

The princess was concerned, but she agreed because she loved Michael so much.

After the two hours were up, as they were sitting near the water, the merman's body began to change. From his waist to the bottom of his feet he grew a giant fin, like a fish with scales, a long tail.

At first the princess was upset and dismayed. Then she noticed that the rest of him was still the same. He was still sitting next to her loving her. She reached down and touched his scaly tail, and touched his face, his hair. She kissed him. And she said, "No matter what, you are the man that I love and choose to be with. We are meant to be together, so all I can do is accept who you are. That's what you'll be to me. A man for two hours and a merman swimming in the ocean the rest of the time. That's how it will be, because I love you."

For the first time in his life, the merman felt that he belonged. He replied, "Yes, I believe we are supposed to be together. So we will be together for the time we were meant to be, in whatever form we are." He kissed her.

Father Neptune was watching from the waves and pronounced a benediction upon the two, who were willing to accept each other and the conditions of their lives together without hesitation.

After their kiss, they noticed that Michael's legs had reappeared and would remain so for the rest of his life. They got up and ran to the princess' house to announce their marriage.

#

#

# VICTIM

#

Once upon a time in a large city lived a pale young woman by the name of Helen Helpless. She lived in the poorer section of the city in a miserable two room apartment with her baby daughter.

Helen was a young woman. Yet, because of her inability to deal with life's challenges, she looked twice her age, wrinkled, haggard and gray. She might have looked prettier if she chose to curl her hair and apply a little make-up. Perhaps then her eyes would shine, and her smile would glow.

But Helen had decided long ago that she was powerless to make any advances beyond her wretched existence. She insisted it was due to being raised by a mean, fault finding, demanding father and a limp excuse of a mother, who were emotionally absent as Helen grew up. It was they, she insisted; they made her what she was, cowering before all of life.

Helen attracted men who were cruel to her, either in word or deed. She would accept meekly or do anything that these men said, even if it was against her own well-being.

She had two women friends. One an alcoholic who hated men, who joined the Marines to prove she was better than any man. The other friend was a shrieking harridan, loudly finding problems with everyone who crossed her path.

Helen dreamed of death, of release from her hopeless situation. She was too afraid, however, to ever take matters into her own hands. So she lived day by day, caught in a vise that squeezed love, enthusiasm, joy, and beauty out of her meager existence.

She hardly acknowledged her child Heidi. It takes a loving soul to give love. Helen did not know what love felt like, nor could she give it. Instead she acquiesced to any demand that Heidi had. Consequently their home rang with tantrums and crying. The more Helen gave in, the more Heidi demanded.

One day Helen was walking to work. Her car had broken down again. Helen treated her car the same as herself. The vehicle could not be expected to run properly when she crashed it into walls, forgot to put air in the tires, maintain oil levels, and fill it up with gas.

"I guess it's just my luck to have a rotten car," said Helen. "Maybe someday I'll be able to afford one that works." She sighed and continued looking down at the ground as she walked. She memorized the cracks in the pavement on her way to work.

She remembered that she had gotten a late start. She hurried her pace. Her boss had told her that the next time she was late, she would be fired. "It's not my fault I'm often late," she had whined at him. "If only I made more money I could get my car fixed properly." She had that hangdog look which made her boss feel guilty and angry, all at the same time.

"That woman is incredible," he mumbled under his breath.

Helen hurried down the sidewalk. All of a sudden she noticed a shopping cart directly in front of her, but too late to stop. Helen tripped over a wheel and landed with a thud. "Ooo, my ankle! I think I've broken my ankle. Why does this always happen to me?" she moaned, clutching her foot.

"Are you all right, honey?" She heard a voice. A figure bent over her.

"I'm fine - thanks to you and your damned cart!" Helen spit out sarcastically.

"Let's see that foot."

"Stay away from me, you old biddy." Helen began to cry softly, wiping her nose on her sleeve.

Grace, the Bag Lady, offered her a handkerchief. "Here you are, sugar. There, there, you'll be all right. I think it's just a sprain."

Helen pushed Grace away. "I'm probably late because of you." She glanced at her watch. It was two minutes past when she was due at the office. "Oh, I give up. It was a lousy job anyway. My boss never understood me." She tried standing up. "Ow!"

"Here, lean on me," offered Grace.

Helen looked at her suspiciously. "What do you want from me? I don't have any change."

"I only want to know if your foot is okay before I leave."

"Oh, I'll be all right, I guess. This kind of thing always happens to me. I'm doomed." Helen's face took on a martyred air.

Grace took a deep breath. "This gal sure knows how to push people away," she thought. "She's a lot harder to love than I realized."

Helen took a new tact. "Oh, can you help me? The pain is getting worse. I think I might faint."

"Now, look," replied Grace, staring directly at Helen. "I'm willing to help you, not rescue you from life. I'm being nice. If you want my help, then ask me directly, like a grown-up human being. Everything I've got is yours. Otherwise, it's adios, kiddo."

Helen's eyes widened. She swallowed. No one had ever talked this directly with her before. It was different. "I, um, yes, I would like your help."

"Not bad. Quite a good come back, I'd say." Grace chuckled. "Okay, hang on to my shoulder. Hop over to that bench, there. See it? Okay. One, two, three, hop!"

Helen slumped on the seat of the bench.

Grace bent down to examine her foot. "When you get home, soak it in ice water for a while. You'll be fine. Grace patted Helen's knee.

A warmth flooded through Helen. Helen looked more closely at Grace, who looked like any other bag lady. Maybe a little cleaner. She had the usual paraphernalia in her shopping cart. Grace looked to be somewhere between 50 and 70 years old. Her eyes looked ageless and sparkled with enthusiasm and humor. Her clothes were well-worn, threadbare in spots.

"Ever had a bag lady for a friend before?" asked Grace.

"Huh?"

"Ever had a...."

"I heard you," interrupted Helen, "only you're not my friend."

"Too bad," laughed Grace. "I'm a great friend to have."

"What do you know?" replied Helen. "You're a nobody here. And you have nothing."

"Oh, that's not true," said Grace, a wise look in her eyes. "I'm rich beyond imagining. And I'd like to tell you something. If you don't do something about your attitude, you're a lot worse off than me."

"It's just that all I get are the bad breaks," complained Helen.

"Wrong," replied Grace. "You can accomplish most anything that you want. You are not a victim of circumstance. You're a victim of yourself."

"But," said Helen.

"No buts," said Grace. "You have all the power you need to make your life happier, richer, and healthier. First believe that you are in charge. "

"Impossible. If you only knew what I've gone through. "

"Everyone goes through hard times. It's attitude that determines what they make of it."

"You should talk. Look at your shoddy condition," Helen retorted sarcastically.

"I've chosen my life. This is what I want to do -- for now," replied Grace softly.

"Yeah, sure."

"Then when you've stocked up your positive attitude, and feel your power flowing, let go of your blame. It won't get you anywhere. And when you dump blame in the dumpster, miracles happen." Grace's eyes were glowing.

"Yeah, but... "

"Just hear me out. My old friend Roosevelt had a wonderful saying. I want you to memorize it. 'Do something. If it doesn't work, do something else. But for god's sake, do something!" She paused.

Helen thought all this over.

Grace could see that she had been listening. She relaxed.

"What I'm trying to tell you is I want you to be happy."

"I want it, too."

"It's all up to you, honey." Grace put her hand softly on Helen's shoulder. Helen could feel that warmth again.

A couple passed by the bench. "Hi Grace. How're ya doing?" They smiled at the bag lady.

"Just fine, Sam. How are you Jane? Stop by later, we'll talk." The couple walked on. Grace sighed. "There's so many wonderful people here. Life's a blessing."

Helen looked at her, a puzzled expression on her face.

"Now, where were we? Oh, yes." Grace rummaged into her shopping cart. "Let's see. Choice Chunks. Love Salve." She triumphantly held up a jar. "Self-esteem Cream - just the cure for you." She handed it to Helen. "I want you to have this. Rub it liberally all over yourself at least once a day. Would you accept this small token of my esteem?" She held it out to Helen.

Helen took it gingerly. "Thank you," she gulped. "I'll try to do what you've said."

Grace smiled. "Take care, sweetie. Gotta be goin' now. See you later." Grace pushed her shopping cart through the park until she was out of sight.

A policeman strolled by. He had been watching. "Did you get a present from Grace?"

Helen held it up for him to see.

"Hmmm. Self-Esteem Cream. Made of positive thoughts, happiness and personal power. Wipes out blame. Wonderful present."

"Do you know her?" asked Helen.

"She's one of our leading citizens. A few years ago, she used to be a Prime Minister. Ruled a large country. Lots of money, power, and fame. She told me she was losing touch with people. So she gave all her possessions away, and became the Bag Lady you see today. She's told me she's become wiser. People teach her a lot every day. And she passed it on - to you."

Helen swallowed. "Why didn't she say something?"

"Wasn't necessary. Do you need a lift home?"

"Yes, I could use one. She looked down the path. I'd like to thank her."

"If you use that cream, that's all the thanks she'll want."

Helen clutched the jar of Self-Esteem Cream to her chest as the policeman gently assisted her into the squad car.

#

#

# THE GIGGLE PRINCESS

#

Once upon a time there was a delightful young Princess, who lived with her parents, the King and Queen, in a charming castle in the middle of a green glen filled with ferns, with a stream running through it.

Princess Melody was a very happy young lady, and loved to giggle. Her giggles totally filled up every room and every chamber and every hall of the castle. The giggles even made their way into the basement. All of the servants, as well as the King and Queen went around smiling, listening to the happy giggles.

As she matured into adulthood the princess started feeling lonely. "I want a Prince to share my life with. My life is wonderful, and I have everything I want except my Prince." She sighed a woeful sigh and looked very sad.

She stopped giggling. All the giggles started to die out in the castle. The King sent his fools, magicians, acrobats and jugglers to her, hoping to cheer up Princess Melody. But to no avail. Day by day went by and still no giggles.

The King became desperate.

He called for his wizard and asked him to bring his magic crystal ball. The wizard looked into the crystal ball but it was empty. He could see nothing.

The King angrily ordered him away. "What shall I do with my lovely daughter?" cried the King. "Days pass and she becomes more despondent." He went into the Princess' chamber. "What can I do, my darling one?" asked the King.

"I am so lonely, Father, for my Prince to seek me out," said Princess Melody. "I am not complete or happy without him," and she sighed a long mournful sigh.

That very afternoon a beggar appeared at the door of the castle kitchen. "I will trade some food for cheering up your Princess," said the stranger.

"How do you know about our Princess?" asked the cook.

"Just let me come in, and you will find out." The stranger made his way to the princess' room, and knocked on the door.

"Enter," said the Princess. The door flew open and there stood the beggar.

"I have come to talk to you," said he. "Let us go down to the water."

She followed.

They sat at the edge of the stream listening to the redwing blackbirds twittering and the whippoorwills sighing.

"Look into my eyes," asked the beggar. "I come to be of service to you."

The Princess gazed at him and felt a tremendous peace.

"Are you willing to live your life without a Prince?" the beggar inquired gently.

"I'm afraid," Princess Melody replied.

"Are you willing to live your life without a Prince?" he repeated.

"I really want my Prince."

"Are you willing to live your life without a Prince?" he questioned yet again.

"What shall I do without him?"

"Are you willing to live your life without a Prince?" His voice and manner were soft and caring, but firm.

"Yes," replied the Princess, a deep sadness welling up in her throat.

"Do you know you must be willing to live without a Prince?"

"No! I cannot."

"You must know yourself and be willing to love yourself first."

"But I'll be all alone," wailed the Princess, great sobs shaking her body.

"Are you willing to be all alone?" asked the magical beggar, moved by her anguish.

"No!"

"Are you willing to be all alone?" he repeated.

The Princess sighed a big sigh of surrender. "I guess so," she answered despondently. "If I must. I don't know why you press the point. Can't you see how unhappy it makes me?"

"I don't mean to hurt you. Only to encourage," continued the beggar, "your willingness. Let me explain. I have discovered we are all on individual paths, alone, all our lives. No one can share our particular path with us, not parents, not friends, not lovers, not children. Other paths may cross or follow for a while, but only change is permanent. We are alone all our lives. When you surrender to being alone, then, and only then, can you feel serenity. And only then can your Prince find you."

As the Princess looked into his wise eyes, she knew the truth of what he had said. The sadness was gone from her heart now. "Yes, I am willing to be alone and do what I must do in my life."

"Good," said the beggar, a smile lighting up his face.

The Princess felt giggles starting in her stomach. Her lips were upturned in a smile. "I must tell my parents what is happening to me," she giggled. She giggled! Lifting up her long skirts, the Princess ran to the castle. Giggle after giggle broke from her mouth. Her eyes were shining, her heart light. As she reached the entry door, she turned to wave to the beggar with gratitude.

To her amazement his rags had fallen away. There he stood in golden splendor clothed in magnificent robes. His yellow hair shining in the sun, his smile luminous. The Princess stood transfixed, awed at the sight of the Golden Prince.

He regally strode up to her and took her hand. "Fear not, my lady. You are not alone any more. Your Prince is with you now."

Their smiles were as radiant than the sun. Hand in hand, they went in to talk to her father, to receive his permission for them to wed.

#

# MAGGIE AND THE FROGS

#

Once upon a time there was a woman named Maggie who loved to be outdoors. She adored camping by streams in the mountains. She loved the wild life that she saw there. The squirrels, birds, and the deer. She breathed in the energy of the trees, plants, and flowers. They were all incredibly magnificent. She sighed in contentment. "This is what I live for," she murmured to herself.

Maggie worked all week in an office. There were many times during her workdays when she was too tired or too busy to go on her walks and be out with nature. It was during those times that she felt an absence of aliveness.

But then she got a brilliant idea. "If I fashion my backyard like the wilderness, then I wouldn't have to go anywhere." Therefore she spent many weekends planting trees, plants and flowers in her yard. She built feeding stations so birds could come and eat there. Her backyard became like a miniature forest.

She decided to construct a small brook with a waterfall, made of rock. She contracted with a swimming pool company who came and created a brook for her. Water bubbled down through the rocks, over the waterfall, into the pool and then pumped back again. She loved to sit in her backyard in the evening, after work, listening to the water on the rocks, birds chirping and trees rustling.

"I need something even more alive. What could that be?" Maggie thought of something unique. Frogs.

Frogs would be perfect. She already had a pond. The frogs would love it, too. The water would be always fresh and clean for them. Maybe if she planted some waterlilies in the pond the frogs would feel at home.

She went to the plant store and bought some lilies and planted them in the pond. When she was finished, she bought fifty frogs from a pet store and deposited them in her pond. They sang delightful frog songs a capella. She felt like she was in the great outdoors sitting in her backyard. She and the frogs were deliciously happy.

As winter approached, the weather turned chilly. Maggie was concerned about her frogs getting too cold and freezing to death.

She contacted the pool company again. "I would like you to install a Jacuzzi. You know, a hot tub, so that my frogs won't freeze during the winter."

The pool company thought her request was odd. No one had ever constructed a hot tub for frogs before. But they took her order anyway, and installed the necessary pipes, pumps, and a heater. Finally she planted lotus, water hyacinth, pennywort, and yellow floating heart to mingle with the waterlilies.

When the project was finished Maggie went out to her backyard to observe and enjoy. The trees and plants were growing well and beginning to mature. The frogs were flourishing. She could hear the songs of redwinged blackbirds, thrushes and mockingbirds. The effect was similar to a clearing in the woods.

Maggie smiled, and sighed again. "The frogs are the best part," she smiled to herself.

Maggie went to the hot tub control and turned the heat on full. The water was cold and would take a while to heat up.

She watched her frogs sitting contentedly on the lily pads or swimming around in the pool. They were making happy ribbeting frog sounds to let her know how much they appreciated their home.

Just then the phone rang. Maggie answered it. It was her friend Mary from work.

"Maggie, I need your help! My car broke down. I have an important final interview for the special job I've been waiting for. Can you come over, pick me up and take me there? It's in the City."

Maggie said, "Sure, I'll be right over."

Maggie drove Mary into the City for her interview and waited in the car.

Mary was very excited. She had been hired on the spot to start work the following week. Mary said, "Maggie. Let's go celebrate. I got the job I've wanted for years." She took Maggie out to dinner. Then they decided to go see a new movie that was popular.

Finally Maggie drove Mary home.

As Maggie was pulling into her driveway, she remembered her frogs with dismay. "Oh no, I hope the water isn't too warm!" She ran to her backyard to find out.

She threw the switch for the floodlights she had installed. In the corner where the pool was located, she saw clouds of steam billowing up. She ran over to get a closer look.

The water of the pool was now boiling hot. Many dead frogs floated on the surface. They had cooked to death. Some sat on their lily pads panting, ready to expire.

"Oh, no," shouted Maggie in panic. She rushed over to the hot tub controls and turned the heat off. She hurried back to the pool.

"Frogs, get out!" she shouted.

They saw her but didn't move.

Maggie reached into the water to grab the live frogs and pull them to safety. "Ow!" The water burned her hands.

The frogs, although dying, were reluctant to leave their home.

Maggie spotted a long board the workmen had left behind. She took it and splashed the water two or three times. The surviving frogs finally jumped out of the pond to safety.

Exhausted Maggie stumbled into the house and collapsed on her bed. "Those frogs wouldn't get out of the pond even though it was killing them," mused Maggie.

She reached over to her nightstand. She picked up a black control box that resembled a television remote control. She pressed a large red button and spoke into the mesh speaker. "I'm ready to go home now. I'm tired of this place."

She was instantly teleported to a large space craft parked near Pluto, on the edge of the Solar System. As Maggie stepped aboard, her human features dissolved. She came to resemble a stick with tentacles, and eyes attached to the end of each tentacle.

"That planet is so primitive," she reported to the other Mantid-like* beings waiting for her. "I accidently performed an experiment with one of the life forms there called frogs. It appears that even when their environment heats up past the danger point, they are reluctant to leave. Very similar to the human life forms there. Humans will also stay, until death if need be, rather than leave a place that is well-known, comfortable, and habitual, even though detrimental to their health and well-being."

"Very good work, Neva Six," the leader replied telepathically. "Anything else to report?" His eyes danced on the ends of tentacles.

"The only thing that worked to save the frogs was to smack the water of their frog pond with a big board a number of times. Then they became conscious and jumped out. "

"Well, Neva Six, what is your conclusion of this Planet Earth? You have studied it for many earth years now."

"My Leader, these people are slow to learn. Like frogs, preferring familiarity to safety or growth. However, they also respond to a stimulus, like smacking their environment with a big shock.

"What else?" replied the Leader.

Maggie continued. "Human beings seem to have a tremendous capacity to learn. And a desire to improve themselves and their lives. Perhaps they are simply frightened to leave the safety of what is well-known."

"Hmmm," communed the Leader. "I wonder what kind of motivation we can use on this Planet to awaken the inhabitants."

(*Thanks to Simon Parkes)

#

# FORGIVEN

#

Once upon a time there lived a lonely girl by the name of Agnes.

Her mother wanted to make sure that Agnes would never burn in the everlasting fires of hell. She kept Agnes close to her. She talked to her incessantly of goodness and of sin. She told Agnes that everyone was basically evil, and must atone. "God will punish you for your hideous mistakes," said her mother.

"I can't see that I've done anything wrong," replied Agnes. "I'm nice to my friends. I brush my teeth after I eat. I say my prayers. What do I do that is so awful? "

Her mother paused in her rocking chair. Her eyeglasses had slipped down her nose. She looked down at Agnes, a funny tilt to her head, so she could see through her glasses. "You are always doing bad things. Yesterday at dinner you spilled spaghetti on the floor. Last week you talked back to me, your mother! Only the other day I caught you looking at yourself in the mirror. God knows how lazy you are. You don't even get out of bed until 9: 00 in the morning. What a disgrace!"

"But, Mama, I'm tired. I'm always tired."

"Nonsense, a young girl your age! When I was your age I was helping your grandfather build brick outhouses. "

Agnes looked at her mother. She fought very hard to keep tears from leaking out of her eyes. It would only make her appear worse than she already was and ungrateful as well. A rebellious tear trickled out of the corner of one eye. Agnes quickly brushed it away with the back of her hand. Hopefully Mother hadn't seen it.

Agnes' chest hurt, like a load of heavy laundry weighed on it. Her throat constricted. It was hard to swallow.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her throat still tight. "I'm sorry, Mama."

"Okay. Now go play quietly like a good girl. And don't make me angry at you again."

Agnes did as she was told.

Years later Agnes attended high school.

Her mother reminded her again to be a good girl. "Whatever you do, don't ever put your hand on a boy's knee."

"Why?" asked Agnes innocently. She had no idea what her mother was talking about.

"Just do as I tell you. And whatever you do, make sure not to do IT until you are sanctified by marriage."

"What do you mean - It?" asked Agnes.

"Don't talk back to your mother. Listen to what I say. Don't do IT until you're married."

"Okay," sighed Agnes. "Whatever that meant. Mama could talk in such riddles," she thought.

The following summer Agnes woke up with a searing pain in her right side.

"Mama, I hurt," she said, walking stooped over into the dim dusty kitchen.

Her mother was sitting at the crowded table, reading a magazine. "No, you don't. Sit down and eat."

"But," Agnes protested.

"You're always being so dramatic. I swear, you make my work so much harder."

Agnes finished breakfast. Her side still ached. She tried to ignore it.

Every day that week the ache persisted. Agnes' appetite diminished. She felt sick to her stomach.

Friday night Agnes walked into the family room. Her face was chalky white. Perspiration slid down the fine contours of her cheek. "Mama, my side hurts!" she whispered, then doubled over.

"Appendicitis," said the doctor to Agnes' mother. "It already has ruptured and become peritonitis. It will be touch and go for a while. She'll be all right, though. It will take some time for her to heal."

"How inconvenient," Mother snapped.

"What did you say?" queried the doctor with disbelief.

"Nothing. I was just mumbling. "

Years passed. Agnes got married. Her husband George took the place of mother.

"Why don't you keep the house cleaner? There's dust on top of the refrigerator. I swear, you can't do anything properly."

Agnes knew he was right. She was bad. She deserved to be punished. George was glad to oblige.

George divorced Agnes. Agnes stayed home with her baby daughter and collected welfare. She only left the house to buy food. She didn't want the neighbors to see what a bad person she was.

Agnes woke up in the middle of the night with a burning pain in her stomach.

"Cancer," said the doctor. "The tests are conclusive. It is very serious; it's spread to the liver. You have about six months to live."

Agnes bit her bottom lip so she wouldn't cry. It wouldn't be okay for the doctor to see her cry.

Later at home, Agnes sat on her couch and contemplated her cancer. She knew it was punishment for all the bad things she had done and said and thought. Bitter, remorseful tears streamed down her face.

"Oh God. Tell me what to do now. What shall I do?"

A silvery cloud of light filtered into her dark room.

"Agnes."

A voice emanated from the cloud.

"Agnes."

She wiped her eyes. She looked at the cloud.

"Yes. What is it?"

"I am the spirit of Forgiveness."

"Oh, thank you. Thank you. I need to be forgiven so much. I have been so bad."

"No, you misunderstand. You have always been forgiven. It is you who must forgive - or die."

"What are you saying?" Agnes puzzled.

"How do you feel about your mother?"

"I don't like to be around her. I stay away. She's always telling me my faults and I can't stand it."

"Do you like that?"

"No!!!" expressed Agnes. "I hate it! I hate her!!" She gulped, guilt flooding her. "You see how bad I am," she sighed.

"My sweet innocent girl. These are your feelings. Feelings are not bad."

"You should have been there when she would put me in the closet!" Agnes roared. "I have every right to hate her. She hurt me."

"You created that, Agnes. You created her. And then you created your hate. The hate is eating you alive. Come now. It is time to forgive her."

"Forgive her - never!" Agnes cried.

"You must forgive her for yourself. You must do it to heal your feelings, your body. Without letting go of past hurts and misunderstandings your life will be misery. I'm here to help you."

"Okay," said Agnes, "I forgive her."

"That didn't sound too convincing," replied the Spirit. "Let's try it again."

"Mama, I forgive you, I forgive you, completely. I forgive you for everything." Agnes began to cry again, only this time it was different. "I love my mother," Agnes sobbed to the Spirit.

"Yes. I know," it replied. "I think you've begun to heal."

"I've had angry thoughts for so long. Now that they're gone, I feel better. My stomach feels better."

"That's all there is to it," said the Spirit. "Forgiveness is for you."

"I forgive myself too. I'm not bad, am I?"

"No, you're not. Sometimes you make mistakes. Without mistakes you would never learn anything. And so to forgive yourself is the most important thing to do."

The silver cloud disappeared.

"Wait." I have more to ask you, Spirit. Don't go. I'm not sure..." There was no reply.

Agnes sighed. She felt better than she could ever remember. She felt her stomach. The pain was gone. So was the weird lumpy mass. She breathed in a very deep breath.

#

#

# THE WILD ROSE

#

Once upon a time, in a deserted garden, grown over with weeds, wild vines and shrubs, lived a Rosebush named Ruby White Thorn.

Ruby was lonely. She didn't know how she had been forsaken in a garden that had gone completely wild. At one time it had been a beautiful garden, lovingly cared for. Now it was doomed and destined to become part of the creeping edges of the forest coming to take over. Ruby was worried because her roots would soon be entirely choked out.

One day a friend of hers, a spider, came by. He crawled up her branches to her leaves and talked to her.

He said, "Ruby, why are you so sad? It doesn't matter where you are planted but only that you're a Rose."

She said, "Brother Spider you don't understand. You can go anywhere you want. I'm stuck here, not able to move, while all these wild things crawl over and under me. The weeds even now are beginning to choke out my roots. What can I do?"

The spider said, "Just be a Rose, of course. You're a Rose until you're not a Rose anymore."

Ruby didn't think that was a very helpful answer and was miffed.

So the spider climbed down from her and crawled slowly away.

Ruby was upset at the spider. "Why did he say such things to me? Why can't someone dig me up and transplant me into a proper garden?"

Then another friend of hers, a butterfly, came and landed on one of Rose's bare branches. The butterfly fluttered her delicate wings in the warming sun. The butterfly asked the same question. "Rose, why are you so sad?"

Ruby said, "I'm planted in this wild garden which every day gets wilder and darker. I want to be in a properly tended garden."

The butterfly said, "But Rose this is where you are. You spent many years in this garden. Your roots are deep. All your old friends are here, and they know you. Why do you think you need to go anywhere else? Why can't you just be a Rose in this garden?"

The Rose replied, "Because I'm a cultivated Rose and I belong in a garden with a gardener who can remove all the weeds. Who can take proper care of me and prune me. This is not fair."

The butterfly, too, sighed and flew off, leaving the rosebush to her own unhappy ways.

Ruby felt sad that she had chased off her friends. Maybe somehow they were right. But oh, she did want to be in a Rose garden of her very own. Suddenly, she felt a magnificent tugging within her. A bud on her bush started to bloom a bright glorious red. It was the most beautiful rose that Ruby had ever grown in her entire life.

She thought, "What they said is true. All I have to do is to accept where I am. I can bloom right here."

#

#

# THE FAIRIES

#

Once upon a time in a beautiful forest lived a band of fairies. They were ruled gently by a Fairy Queen, Lovey, and her princess daughter, SweetCakes.

Lovey and SweetCakes were two of the most beautiful fairies imaginable. They had long blond hair which hung around them like lacey robes of gold. They had the bluest of blue eyes, which were both soft and intelligent. When anyone looked into their eyes, it was like looking at their souls. They were both fond of the color silver, and so wore shimmering silver gowns made from the finest spider webs in the forest. Attached to the gowns were twinkling lights of dewdrops. And their wings were so light and airy, that they were transparent. It was evident that they were mother and daughter. The resemblance was very strong.

Life in the delightful forest was calm and serene. Everyone lived in harmony there. The animals, the birds, the insects, all had decided long ago that it was useless to be in conflict. Thus they lived happily side by side. The fairies added their lightness and sparkling magic so that at night the forest was bright with their twinkly lights.

SweetCakes loved one particular old elm tree, named Gramps. He was older than anything else in the forest. His branches had moss thickly hanging on it. He could talk to her by rustling his leaves. Gramps had the most amazing stories to tell of centuries of growth.

There were injuries on his branches where lightning had struck, and burned off some of his limbs. There was a family of blue jays which lived high up in his branches, who returned every year to lay eggs, then fledge their babies. Altogether he was a delightful old tree. There was one soft spot where the moss grew the thickest, where SweetCakes loved to sit, listen to the sounds of the forest, and talk with Gramps.

SweetCakes was adventurous, and loved to roam the boundaries of the forest. Her mother, Lovey warned her of dangerous human men who lived beyond the forest.

One day Lovey tired of talking with Gramps. When he fell into a slumber, she flew off in search of a new, exciting quest.

The forest thinned out near the mighty river. On the other side of the river SweetCakes could see an run-down cottage with smoke curling up from the chimney. The windows were mere sheets of paper, greased against the wind, and dusty from neglect. From inside the cottage she heard sounds of baritone male voices. Her curiosity got the better of her. Even though she had been warned to stay away from human men, SweetCakes flew towards the cottage. She fluttered near a window and heard voices raised in anger.

One man's loud voice was clear. "I'm telling you that you're no good, and always will be no good. Yer too uppity for yer own self, and I can't stand ya no more."

SweetCakes heard a sharp noise like a shot. Out through the front door stumbled a young man, tumbling over and over in the yard.

In the doorway stood a rough looking man with a beard. He resembled the young man.

"Looks like father and son," SweetCakes reasoned.

The man in the doorway shook his fist at his son laying on the ground, his black eyes glaring. "I don't want you to ever come back here again. You're a man now. Go find your own way and never come back. You hear me? Never!" With that the man, turned, strode back into the house, and slammed the door.

The young man on the ground paled at hearing those terrible words. He turned on his side, and moaned. He beat the ground with his fists. "What will I do now?" the young man asked of no one in particular. "Where will I go? I have no one left in the world."

SweetCakes was touched at the young man's anguish. She fluttered over to where he lay, forgetting herself and her mother's warnings. "Maybe I can help," she whispered softly.

The young man jerked upright to a sitting position. "What the...?" he said. "What are you?"

"I'm a Fairy Princess. My name is SweetCakes. I live in the forest with my mother and the other fairies," she replied.

"I don't believe it." The young man shook his head in disbelief. "Fairies don't exist. I'm making all this up from being thrown on my head."

"No, I'm real," said SweetCakes. "We have been warned never to come around men, so you have never seen us. But I am real." SweetCakes fluttered to the ground next to where the young man lay. She could see that there was a reddish lump rising on his forehead and she was inexplicably moved by his dilemma.

Fairies are almost the size of normal human beings. What the young man saw was the most beautiful female being he had ever laid his eyes on. With wings. And she was standing next to him, shimmering with a pale radiance.

"Naw, you're not real. I've just got hit on the head."

"Touch me. I'm real," she replied.

The young man reached out his hand, and touched her arm. The gown under his hand was the softest material he had ever touched. His eyes grew wide. "You are real. Father would never believe this." Then he gave his head a shake. "But now, I will never talk to father again." And he looked downcast.

"Maybe if you come back with me into the forest, mother could think of some way to help you. It will soon be dark, and you have nowhere else to go." She held out her hand to him.

"Okay," said the young man. "I guess you're right. I've never been very far into the forest before, though. Will I be alright?"

"Of course," said the Fairy.

"Oh, by the way, my name is Josh," said the young man.

"Josh," SweetCakes replied and smiled, her cheek dimpling. "I'm called SweetCakes."

"SweetCakes," he repeated.

"Now hold my hand, and we'll fly back to my home in the forest."

Josh held her hand, and magically they flew up and away from his cottage home, over the tops of the trees, deep into the forest.

"Wow, this is really exciting," exclaimed Josh, watching the trees sweep past him, far below. The wind whistled through his hair. For the time being he forgot his home, his father, and his predicament.

After a while Josh spotted a brilliance in the distance. He noticed that they were floating down into that brilliance. As they landed he saw that there was a glow, lighting up the entire clearing.

Dozens of fairies flew, hovered or sat in that clearing. On a gigantic toadstool sat a woman who looked like SweetCakes. Josh realized that this was her mother. She wore a silver crown on her head, and radiated a soft light, like her daughter.

Josh's mouth dropped open as he took in this scene. He gave a low whistle. It was absolutely the most amazing thing he had ever seen.

SweetCakes let go of his hand, and walked over to the toadstool to her mother.

"My dearest dear, why have you disobeyed my wishes and strayed out beyond the forest limits? It is getting late." She frowned slightly. "And who is this?"

"Mother this young man, his name is Josh. He was just kicked out of his home by his father. He has no one to turn to, and nowhere to go. I thought maybe you might think of something for him," she finished breathlessly.

Lovey, the Fairy Queen, studied Josh up and down for quite a few minutes.

Josh stood as though he was in a dream. He curiously watched the movement of all the fairies. And listened to the conversation between Lovey and SweetCakes.

Lovey spoke. "My darling one. He is a mortal man. Mortal men have thoughtlessly trampled on forests, burned trees, hurt nature and themselves. They have put fairies in danger of extinction because of their selfishness and waste. We are in extreme danger because he has seen our home. Why have you brought him here?"

"Mother, this man is different. I can feel it. What if I were suddenly homeless? Wouldn't it make you feel good to have a stranger take me in? Please give him a chance. You haven't even talked to him."

Lovey sighed. Her daughter was beautiful, persuasive, and stubborn. Lovey turned to Josh. "Well, then Josh. You have been spoken for by my daughter. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Josh hesitated. "Your Majesty, I was born to a sad family. My mother died when I was four days old. My sister died of lung congestion last winter. My father has done his best. He took a new wife, who left him. I am a reminder of his pain. I'm a dreamer. My father despises dreamers because there is always much hard work to do. He ends up having most of it to do himself, while I dream standing next to a row of corn I'm planting. I have tried to become the man he wants me to be, but I am not able." Josh finished his story. His face was flushed.

Lovey was touched. Here apparently was a mortal boy who was unlike the others. His life had been much different than theirs. How could she throw him out of the forest?

"Well, young man, you may stay. I will think of something before long. If we have any chores, will you do them? We all share here, although there is not much work."

Josh and SweetCakes jumped up and down in delight. She ran to his side and slipped her soft hand in his. She looked into his eyes. "I'm so glad you can stay. We will have fun and I'll show you the secrets of the forests."

Weeks passed. True to her word SweetCakes showed Josh the mysteries of the old forest. She introduced him to Gramps who was very impressed with the human boy.

The blue jays high in a branch had fledglings. They looked down upon the young couple chatting with Gramps and cawed with delight.

She showed Josh how to spin clothes out of dew and spider webs. She even made him a shirt out of maiden hair ferns and rose petals.

Then the Fairy Queen called a special audience with Josh. SweetCakes attended as well.

Lovey said, "Josh, you have proved most special among my fairy people. I have been talking with the dwarf community in the mountains many miles from here. They are willing to have you come live with them. They are most like humans of any of our magical neighbors. You will like them. They will treat you kindly." She smiled at him.

SweetCakes burst out "No, Mother. I want him to stay here! I have fallen in love with him. Do not make him go live with the dwarves."

"Daughter," replied Lovey softly. "I cannot allow him to stay among us. Already our manners have become roughened, our emotions becoming intense. It is time for him to go."

"Well, then, if he goes, I will go too," said SweetCakes stamping her foot petulantly.

"You cannot, daughter. If you leave our forest permanently, you will lose your wings and become like a mortal woman. Only worse than mortal women, you will have remembered that once you were a fairy. I cannot allow you to throw your life away."

SweetCakes looked at Josh, determination in her eyes. "I must go, Mother. It is my destiny to be with him. I am willing to give up what I have."

Josh protested. "You should do what you Mother asks of you. You cannot throw your life away for me."

But SweetCakes' mind was made up.

She and Josh got their possessions together, and prepared to fly one last time to the mountains where the dwarves lived.

Before they left Josh and SweetCakes went to say good-bye to Gramps.

His leaves rustled with sadness. "I'm sorry to see you go, my dear SweetCakes. I will miss you."

"Me, too, gramps."

The blue jays cawed their farewell.

Then they went to say farewell to Lovey. She held her daughter to her, sadness swelling in her chest. "Adieu my daughter. Peace be with you, and your lovely fairy spirit."

"Good-bye dear Mother. I love you."

It was time to leave. Josh and SweetCakes held hands, preparing for their flight. All the fairies gathered around them, biding them good-bye, and to have a wonderful life together.

Just then a lovely sprinkling of silver rain started to drizzle down from the sky upon the young couple. Rain drops shimmered and sparkled on their skin. To SweetCakes' amazement, she watched wings sprout from Josh's back. A soft light emanated from him. His humanness became softer, gentler. A tenderness came into his eyes. All watched the transformation in awe.

A voice came down from the heavens. It was the Father of Fairies. "Love is to be rewarded." he said, "not punished. Since this fairy is willing to give up her family, friends and heritage for love, it is decreed that she will not have to give up anything at all. In fact, her lover has now become a fairy and will join her in love. Remember this day well. It is a testament to love, and to surrendering of selfishness. From this day forward, love will transform and heal. Thus it shall be throughout eternity. Josh, you are now the truth teller about your transformation. Every day you will speak the message of love throughout the land, for all to hear how love transforms. Go now, my children, and be happy."

From that day and until forever, the voice of the Fairies spread tales of how love transforms everything.

#

# KILLER T'S

#

In deadly darkness the Black Army was entrenched in Florida. Massed by the billions, they awaited the command to move forward. A great deal of territory had been fought for and held. They were high in confidence.

As the Black Army rested for a bit, they looked around. Attuned to each other so well, they had no need of leaders. They were of one mind and body. Spread and kill; entrench. Spread and kill. Their terrible destruction was feared by many. In the swamps and wetlands they felt at home. No discomfort did they encounter. Rotting decay was their way of life.

What they failed to see in their assured state of rest was the spies from the T Army. The spies scurried through the bloody battleground, hiding behind their brother corpses. These spies were able to spot an enemy by its smell and could merge with their surroundings. They could even successfully disguise themselves as a member of the Black Army, so as to find the vulnerability inherent there. Of course they would die if they took on that disguise, as the Black Army's essence would kill their very being. It was essential, though, to bring this important information back to headquarters. Knowing the enemy's make-up, the blueprint of life, their structure, was vital knowledge. The T Army would then use this to effectively wipe out the Black foe.

As the spies returned one by one to home base, the idea formed as to what and who the Black Army was. Realizing that many armies had ignored this formidable foe or were unable to muster its forces, the T forces comprehended two main ideas. One - do not the Black Army gain any headway at all and two - do not let fear scatter their spearhead when destroying the Black menace.

At the T military center, millions of T troops were amassed for the assault. They were advised they must totally destroy each and every member of the Black Army. "Take no prisoners. Leave nothing to survive. Totally annihilate every soldier you encounter. Even if you must give up your own existence, this plague must be wiped out!"

Some T troops left, while at headquarters, more were being garrisoned and trained.

Bloody fighting broke out. The valiant Killer T's were fighting and dying against the entrenched Black Army. Bodies from both sides piled up, sometimes washed away by red tides. Other times they piled up, rotting, awaiting white orderlies to move them out.

Day by day the fighting went on. They fought in trenches, in the air, in the marshy ooze. If lasers didn't work, they drew their knives and fought hand to hand.

The order "Destroy the enemy. Wipe them out of existence, so they can never hurt us again," was heard by all. Florida trembled under the assault.

Then, little by little, the Black Army began to diminish. There were no new replacements. The soldiers who were left began to collapse. The exhausted T Army began to celebrate, but victory was still a long way off. "Keep positive" was the battle cry. "We can win!"

The area controlled by the enemy began to shrink. New areas were fought for by the T's, and held. As they regained their territory, garbage and destruction was cleaned up. Whole areas were made whole again. The Killer T's were winning, but one always had to be on the lookout for the sneaky Black Army, whose tactics were renowned. The Killer T's could not rest until every member of the Black Army was gone from their homeland, totally annihilated.

"Miss Jones, I've just gotten your latest test results back."

"What?! Oh, Doctor, you startled me." Florida Jones was sitting cross-legged on her hospital bed, in deep meditation.

"I'm sorry. Did I interrupt something?" Dr. Simonton inquired.

"Oh, you know. I was doing my daily meditation. I was visualizing having a war with my cancer."

Dr. Simonton smiled indulgently and sat down on a chair next to her bed. "I came here to tell you that your efforts are paying off, since you've been at our Clinic. Tests show that your cancer is in remission. I thought you would want to know right away."

"Oh yes doctor. I've been working hard every day. I was afraid that I wasn't strong enough, or maybe I was too late to try your therapy. This gives me positive feedback to try even harder."

"I want you to know, Florida, that we don't completely understand cancer, how people get it, or how it is cured. Not really. Sometimes people cure themselves! We won't know anything for sure until some time has passed, and the cancer cells continue to die off. You'll need to keep thinking positive thoughts and visualize your complete health for a long while, maybe the rest of your life."

"That's OK, doc. It feels good to do this. I like visualizing the power to heal myself."

He patted Florida's shoulder. "Just keep up the good work. Stimulating those killer T cells to do their work in destroying cancer has been shown to be highly effective. You're a great little general." He laughed at the image that he conjured up in his mind, and left her room.

Florida leaned back against her pillows. "Now where was I? Oh, yeah." She imagined a laser cannon was trained on the black mass in her colon.

#

#

# TO BE OR NOT TO BE

#

Once upon a time there was an old King. King Alfons was very, very old, and very tired. He had no children and his beloved wife Enez had just died. The King was full of grief. The King mourned, while walking up and down through the long corridors, empty and forlorn. Tears streamed down his cheeks. He remembered how his wife had walked these corridors, her long dresses rustling, her sweet face looking at him. No one in the whole Kingdom could comfort him.

He kept asking himself, "What is the purpose of life? What have I accomplished? Why did she have to die?" Some days he'd get angry and yell at the servants, then apologize with remorse.

He could remember how Enez felt as she held his hand, her soft skin caressing his. Now, no one was there to hold his hand. Alfons was alone. He looked at her portrait with pain in his heart.

Weeks passed. The old King grew thinner, pale. He hardly slept. He kept remembering Enez' face, her touch, her laugh. Some days he wanted to take out all of her dresses, her pictures and her jewelry and give them all away. Other times he'd place her possessions around him to remember.

One night he had a dream. The dead Queen came to him. "My Love," she whispered, "Why do you grieve so?"

"For you," he replied.

"But I'm gone except in your heart and memories. Every time you cry out my name, I have to come back. Don't you see? It's time for me to move on. I have more work to do where I am. Surely you could continue your own work where you are."

"But I love you!" he cried. "And miss you."

"I love you too, Dearest," she replied, "but love does not hold back. It encourages and allows room to grow. Don't you remember? That's how we were when we were first together. Even later on we would encourage each other and allow each other space to think and to grow."

"But I can't stand it," the king said. "Without you, life feels meaningless."

"My dear husband" she said, "I have a new purpose now. So do you if you can find it. Let me go, so I can move forward. If you really love me, let me go now. You know we all have a plan to follow, a plan only our solitary heart knows. Good-bye my sweet Love." She kissed him tenderly.

At that the old King woke up. The dream was very real. "I could even smell her perfume," he mused to himself.

Although he still felt sad, the king went about the castle more lighthearted than he had been in weeks.

After dinner that night he was going through Queen Enez's things. He found a brooch he had given her on the birth of their only child. Their son had died a year later. Deep sorrow swelled up in his chest and the tears flowed once more. He laid down and fell into a fitful slumber with the brooch clasped tight in his hand.

He dreamed again of Queen Enez.

"My sweet husband I know you feel sad, but please let go of the ties. Keep your memories and your love, but let me go on. Every time you think of me, every time you call me, I must return."

"Please be with me just a little longer, wife. Please allow me your company just a little while yet."

"I didn't want to do this," said Enez, "I brought a friend to help."

An angel, looking like a kindly Warrior was instantly at her side. While King Alfons looked on in amazement, the angel Miramar cut all the ties that bound Enez and Alfons together, leaving only a single golden cord of unconditional love between their hearts.

The King felt the pressure as she squeezed his hand and then she was gone. Queen Enez faded. The luminous Warrior Miramar was gone as well.

King Alfons fell asleep and slept soundly, dreamlessly until morning. The dogs barking and the rooster crowing woke him up. He still grasped the brooch in his hand. A few drops of his dried blood from the sharp clasp were on it. His heart felt full, yet at peace. He found he could not easily remember what Enez looked like anymore. Feeling years younger, King Alfons slid out of bed, put on his most colorful dressing robe, and went to eat a hearty breakfast.

#

# FIREWALKER

#

Shiwana She stood on the sand, looking out at the sparkling blue ocean. The warm sand snuggled between her bare toes. Her long hair blew in the warn breezes. Her dark solemn eyes were looking, but not seeing. Shiwana was much older than her twelve years. Secrets spoke to her at quiet times, of who she was, where she had come from, her ancestors and the part they played in history, of things to come. Her Voices never lied to her. Whatever the Voices said always came to pass.

She usually played apart from the other children. They did not understand her, and they sometimes felt a coolness when she came around. Shiwana She was not happy. Because of her great sensitivity, she was frightened. Darkness scared her, great fish lurking in the warn ocean scared her, other people scared her. Sometimes even the Voices scared her, made her feel different and apart from others.

One day Shiwana stood by the ocean, contemplating the wondrous ceremony to be held on the full noon. Only twice before in her memory had this ceremony been done. Hana-Le the Ancient Kahuna would be performing the Firewalking Ceremony. All those who desired could walk with him across the burning coals. Twice before Shiwana had lined up with others, but at the last minute, she could not walk. Her fear was too great.

No one had ever burned their feet, not even the littlest children. Sometimes feet would be scorched a little, but the pain always went away the next day. Still she could not bring herself to think about walking on the Fire. As she stood at the edge of the water, she remembered other Firewalks. The coals were fiery hot, so orange that her face smarted with the heat from six steps away. She shook her head as though to shake free the terrible memory of that fire. "I will walk on it this time," she said. "I don't know how I will do it, but I will!"

The night of the full moon came. The sun had already departed in the west, over the water.

Hana-Le had spent all day choosing logs for the sacred fire. Small children helped him drag the logs to the spot picked for the event.

Shiwana had wanted to avoid the area all day. She found herself always wandering back and watching the pile of wood grow. Shivers would start up her spine in anticipation.

The sky was growing dark, almost time to begin the ceremony. The tribe gathered around, talking in low, reverent voices. A circle formed around the pile and Hana-Le. All held hands, or put their arms around each other.

Shyly Shiwana broke into the circle and put her arms around the person on each side of her. Her chest was tight with fear, hardly able to breathe.

The Kahuna taught them a song to sing to the Fire God and to the Universe, a simple song of power. As they sang, Hana-Le walked to the mound of logs and lit it. A gasp went up as the people saw the awesome flames of the sacred fire arise.

Those who had burned themselves over cooking fires or warming fires shuddered to see the red-yellow flames climbing into the air.

The sacred song ended. The circle broke, and the people walked to a spot where logs had been prepared to sit upon. Hana-Le sat on a huge stump and talked. He talked of other Firewalks he had prepared. He talked of the fear that overtook people in their thoughts, seeing themselves burnt to ashes, or having no feet, or falling down on their face, their eyes melting into the coals. He talked to them quietly, reassuring them that it is possible to walk on fire. He told them stories of others who had walked. He talked to their fears.

He told them about his fears. When he was young he was afraid of the deepest part of the ocean, black and foreboding. The story of monsters that lurked in the depths were vivid. Fishermen who had strayed into that area were never seen again. Hana-Le decided that since he was a teacher, he could not afford this fear. He would rather be dead, than have his fear hold him back from his potential.

So one day, all by himself, he paddled out to the black area. His body shook as he approached the gloomiest part. He then stood up in his boat, and dove into the water. As he bobbed back up to the surface, Hana-Le was triumphant. His terror was gone. All that was left was a knowledge that nothing could ever hurt him again, except his fear.

It was after that that Hana-Le began the Firewalks. He did many by himself, learning, perfecting the experience, before he offered it to others.

He had done two for the tribe, and was ready for the last Firewalk of his life.

Shiwana felt great love for Hana-Le. Her trust deepened, as she listened to his story. The fear a familiar thing.

Hana-Le sang several songs about letting go of fear, and trusting the all-powerful Earth Mother and Water Father to protect them.

Now the time everyone had been waiting for arrived. Fear was so intense in the participants, Shiwana could smell it. As if in a dream, she walked to the place of fire.

Hana-Le pulled out the unburned logs, and raked the coals about three inches thick. The heat from the coals was intense.

Even from quite a few steps away, Shiwana could feel the heat on her face and arms. Almost too hot even at that distance to tolerate. "I'm going to walk on that?" she asked herself in dread.

The Kahuna kept reminding people to trust, to take that first step. Believing it was possible to walk on fire, as if by magic a line formed. Flames were sometimes still shooting up from the coals. Orange and black, twinkling and glowing with a life of its own, the fire waited. The people were reminded to remain silent and reverent after they had walked.

Shiwana realized to her dismay that she was third in line, after Hana-Le and another man who had walked before. The line started. Hana-Le and the man walked through, effortlessly and quickly. As though her mind had stopped resisting, Shiwana started walking. Her right foot landed on the coals. 2000 degrees was their intensity. Without another thought, she continued walking and in moments, was on the other side. She looked back to the fire. "How did I do that?" she questioned.

She watched the rest of the people walking through, one at a time. Even little children. Sometimes their mothers would hold their small hands and walk through with them. A few others were holding back, and watched. Her mind reeled. It couldn't have happened. Her feet were unburned. They stung a little, but no worse than a hot day on the sand. "It isn't possible to walk on fire, it is? Or is it? She just did. But how?"

In moments, all the walkers who had wanted to walk, had walked. Hana-Le invited those who wanted to walk a second time, to do so. Then he would put the fire out.

Without hesitation Shiwana walked through a second time. This time the coals seemed almost friendly, caressing her feet. Looking back at the orange-ness, exhilaration leaped through her. She began to jump up and down, shouting silently. Shivers ran through her body. She was a Firewalker now. She was free, really free! No longer would her fears stop her now, inhibit her life. She could do what she wanted, when and how she wanted. All the restrictions and "can'ts" in her life faded.

"If I can walk on fire, then anything is possible." She looked up at the distant stars, exultant. "I'm free!"

#

# THE PRINCE WHO THOUGHT HE WAS A FROG

#

Once upon a time in a tiny Kingdom, a magnificent Prince was born to an affectionate and kindly King and Queen, their first and only child. His birth was easy for the Queen. From then on, the Prince was considered to be the most blessed person in all the realm. He was a darling baby, easy to care for and agreeable to be around. His face glowed with health and he gurgled with happiness.

Oh this was a grand time, indeed, for the King and Queen, to have such a brilliant child born to them. They planned a huge christening party and invited everyone in the kingdom to attend.

One of the visitors was a Fairy. She gave them a magic mirror for his christening present. She told the King and Queen to make sure that the Prince look into this mirror every day to see how magnificent he was, how loving he was, how kind he was, how intelligent he was, because he needed to know those things to grow up to become a wise and loving ruler.

The King and Queen promised to have their boy look in his mirror every day.

As the baby grew into boyhood, they encouraged him to look into the mirror and to have him believe what he saw in it, the humble truth.

The little boy grew, and when he was old enough to talk he told his parents, the King and Queen, "All I see is an ugly frog in my mirror. I must be a frog!"

The King and Queen replied, "Oh no, my son. You are the most handsome, loving, charming, witty, smart, kind Prince ever to be born."

But every time the Prince looked in his mirror, all he could see was a frog, and not a very good looking frog at that. He would think, "I don't understand the Fairy. I'm a frog. But it doesn't make any sense. Everyone else sees me as a wonderful Prince."

As he grew older he became more and more confused and more and more despondent at the vision that he saw in the mirror. Everyone in his life, his teachers, his friends, his parents, would tell him what a wonderful Prince he was. Everyone who would come to visit would say what a wonderful, loving, handsome, talented Prince he was. But all he ever saw in the mirror was a frog!

On his 21st birthday his parents decided to give him a fabulous birthday party. This was helpful because the Prince was gloomy all the time.

He carried around his mirror with him day and night, and would look in it and sigh. He could only see the frog in it.

His parents were worried about him, and invited all sorts of loving, entertaining people. They invited people from everywhere, from the four corners of the realm, to come celebrate the Prince's birthday.

Everyone was seated at the magnificent birthday party. The Prince sat with his mirror next to him and periodically would pick it up, look at it, sigh, and put it down again. He looked very sad even though he was surrounded by superb presents.

Each guest came up to him and said, "You are the most magnificent, handsome, talented, kind, intelligent Prince I have ever seen."

The prince would simply sigh and sadly shake his head.

Just then a blind woman came in. She had not been invited, because no one knew where she lived, but she was a blessing wherever she showed up. She could see things with her blind eyes that no one else could see. She was an extraordinary and greatly revered visitor. Whenever she arrived at a party or a christening or a gathering, she would be shown to a seat of honor. She was always given scrumptious food to eat, and gold to take care of herself. Often she would suddenly vanish from a party. But her boon would always be left behind. Thus everyone was overjoyed at her presence and wondered what blessings she would bestow.

The blind woman walked up to the table where the Prince sat. She was given the seat of honor right next to him and given a plate filled with most delicious morsels to eat. She ignored the food and turned instead to the Prince. She studied him with her blind eyes and said, "Oh you are the handsomest, the healthiest, the most talented, wisest, intelligent Prince I have ever looked upon."

The Prince gazed back at her and tears welled up in his eyes. He replied, "How could that be? I look in my magic mirror every day. It is only supposed to tell me the truth. But all I ever see in it is this ugly green frog. How can you tell me I'm so wonderful?"

The blind woman chuckled. "Ha, ha! My Prince, don't you see? You're looking at the wrong side of the mirror! Turn it over. Here, on this side is the mirror. You were simply looking at the design of a frog on the back." And with that she vanished.

#

#

# HOPE

#

Hope Bradshaw was an intelligent, energetic young woman. Her whole life stretched before her at age 16. Her sparkling blue eyes searched the cute face in the mirror for recent blemishes. She sighed contentedly. Her skin was finally getting under control. She grinned at herself, her even white teeth like soldiers at attention, the stainless steel rods and posts of her braces a thing of the past.

Hope reached to smooth the blush she had applied on her cheek. A sharp pain shot through her right shoulder. "Ow!" She rubbed it with her left hand. It was sore to the touch.

At volleyball practice the following week, Hope jumped up to spike the ball over the net. As she landed her right hip painfully gave way. She almost fell.

By the time Homecoming Dance was approaching Hope was unable to walk or reach without extreme pain.

Hope's mother took her to the doctor, who ordered a series of tests and x-rays. The news that he delivered stunned Hope and her mother as well.

"You have an extreme case of rheumatoid arthritis," he said. His voice was matter of fact but his eyes betrayed his reluctance to pronounce this dreadful sentence on a young girl.

"But I'm not an old lady! I'm only 16! I don't understand."

The doctor took a deep breath and plunged into explaining. "This disease can affect any age group. We'll begin some physical therapy and try changing your diet. Occasionally these things help."

"Occasionally? You mean, I'm not going to get better?"

"I doubt it, young lady. In fact, there's a 50-50 chance you're going to get worse."

Hope looked at him with horror.

"Of course we can always hope." He chuckled inadvertently at his bad joke.

Hope got up and stormed out of the doctor's office, bitter tears streaming down her face.

In the following weeks, Hope experienced more pain and stiffness. She noticed her pretty fingers turning into crooked claws as the disease progressed and her body became crippled. Finally she was unable to walk and was confined to the wheelchair. Physical therapy was sheer torture and she finally gave it up. She did like the relaxing jacuzzi baths, though. The doctor prescribed anti-inflammatories, chemotherapy drugs, and steroids, but either they didn't work or their side effects were overwhelming Hope's body.

"The doctor says the pain will go away when your joints finally fuse." Hope's mother told her, trying to be comforting. She noticed the tight set to her daughter's jaw. "Does your mouth hurt, honey?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah. I can't open it much anymore." Hope said, bitterness heavy in her voice.

Her mother turned quickly away, afraid to show her fear that overcame her like a black heaviness.

Hope had now resigned herself to a life of TV watching, while an assistant helped feed and dress her. The pain which filled her awareness was like an unwelcome relative come to stay. Trying to raise her arms was torment. Even when her mother lifted her into the bathtub, Hope had to clench her teeth to keep from crying out. Nighttime was the worst, lying in the darkness. Her body full of pain at the slightest move, her mind alive and awake longing for her lost youth and health.

Then the time came, years later, when the joints fused, and the intense pain subsided somewhat. At 25 Hope did not resemble her former healthy self. Her hands looked like monster claws. Her vertebrae was twisted. Her hips had shifted. Even her pretty face was distorted. The mirror, which used to be Hope's friend, had become a cruel mockery of what might have been.

Hope lived in her mind now. The brilliance which had been neglected in favor of beauty began to surface. Her intelligence blossomed. Since Hope was not able to talk well anymore, she began to play internal games with herself, especially at night when she couldn't sleep and the house was quiet.

During the day Hope watched TV. She tired of the soap operas. She concentrated instead on the news shows and documentaries. It gave her some comfort to know the world was in a worse state than she.

Pollution was destroying the water, land, animals, even the air she breathed. War raged everywhere. Anger and hate seemed to be the keynotes of civilization. Innocent people were slaughtered, molested, raped, and bombed.

"At least I have a loving home," she thought to herself.

Famine was growing as the earth refused to nurture her children, and the children responded. They dammed up her water, they scraped and moved her soil, they spread radioactivity in her water and deep into her bowels.

Somehow it gave Hope relief. "At least my life is not as bad as all that!"

Her mother noticed that Hope was losing touch with the family. She was going deep within herself, into a world no one could follow or comprehend.

One day Hope watched a program on space exploration. The narrator was expressing desire for all humankind to solve its problems before stepping out to destroy the cosmos.

As Hope watched, she saw a picture overlying the TV screen. She blinked to clear away the double exposure. The vision persisted. It was an image of some future time. Space travelers were being interviewed. They beamed with happiness and serenity. Behind them a panorama of Earth was projected.

Hope could hear some words, like "peace," "end of pollution," and "the saving of mankind." Hope blinked again and the vision was gone. Hope wrinkled her forehead, puzzling it out. Then she shrugged. In her deformed body it looked like a monstrous twitch.

"I better be careful," Hope cautioned herself. "I sure don't want to go crazy, too."

Days later Hope was lying down attempting to nap. A fly delighted in buzzing by her nose, obviously aware she could not brush it away. Hope closed her eyes and willed herself to shut out the annoyance. She felt herself go deeply within. A sound of rushing water swished in her ears. She opened her eyes. "No, I'm still in my room." She closed her eyes. The sound returned. She experienced a sensation of falling. It felt pleasant.

Then Hope again saw in her mind the space newsreel vision she had seen projected on the TV. It was clear. She saw the astronauts, heard the announcer. "Peace in our time." The people on camera smiled serenely. "Thought displacement," Hope heard. With a jolt Hope felt the vision leave. "What is this?" she asked herself. "What does it mean?"

"It means thought is the creator and the destroyer." The words came from deep inside Hope. She felt a tingling, goosebumps rising on her skin. "This is important," she intuited. Hope was excited for the first time in years.

"Thought displacement. Hmm. Interesting phrase. I want to know more."

"Think the results you want."

This inner conversation was fun. Hope brimmed with curiosity. "Tell me more."

But the connection had gone dead.

Hope was desolate. The vision and the voice gave her a warm feeling of wholeness and tranquility. "Please come back." All she could hear was the fly buzzing around her window.

In the days following Hope mused about her experience. "I know what I saw and heard is important. How can I do this thought displacement?" She remembered the vision of earth. Then she got an idea. "I know. I'll start with my left pinkie finger. I'll see it as healthy! I'll see it as normal."

Every day Hope practiced seeing her left finger as it was before the illness. Her mind was obstinate, however, and would go off on tangents, refusing to focus for longer than a few seconds. With the newly-acquired patience of a cripple, Hope retrieved her mind and focused it back on her left hand. When she relaxed her diligence, her mind would scurry away again. Finally, after much practice, Hope was able to keep her mind concentrating for 30 seconds, then a minute, then five minutes. It seemed that her hand was loosening up a bit. One day she noticed she could wiggle her little finger a bit. She was overjoyed.

She tried calling her mother, who was in the kitchen. A noise came out of her mouth. Her mother had grown used to responding to noise, rather than words. She came into the living room, wiping her hands on a towel. Hope wiggled her little finger, tears trickling out of the corners of her eyes.

Her mother saw the wiggling finger and embraced Hope, her own happy tears mingling with her daughter's. "How did you learn to do that?" she cried.

Hope gave her a lopsided grin. After that Hope began to see the vision clearer and stronger every day. She was amazed at the pristine beauty of the future planet. "How had they cleaned it up?" she asked herself. "Thought displacement," came the answer. They thought of how they wanted it, instead of focusing on the sickness as it was."

"But how? When?" Hope was full of more questions than answers.

One night the grandfather clock in the hallway chimed twice, two o'clock. Hope woke up with a start. "Did someone call me?" She began thinking of that future happy time. All of a sudden, she was transported into the future. People with pleasant smiles beamed at her, as they stood around her bed.

"Welcome Teacher." They laughed at seeing Hope's bewildered expression.

A kindly looking young man stepped forward. Hope noticed his twinkling green-grey eyes. An impossible shock of lustrous brown hair seemed to stand up in every direction on his head.

He knelt down by Hope. "My name is Tim. I am grateful to you for visualizing Earth as healed," he said with reverence. "Because of you, others began to think similar thoughts. Slowly we began to cure our unhelpful thoughts. Our bodies began to be healthy instead of sick. War began to be seen as merely hateful or envious thought exchanges, productive to no one except perhaps bankers. Miracles happened. As our minds cleared, so did the skies, and water and soil. Joy replaced bitterness. Weapons crumbled into dust, unnecessary for keeping peace. Leaders who only were self-interested were replaced by panels of advisors and teachers. We displaced anger and hatred with neutrality and forgiveness."

Hope interjected a thought. "Pleasure replaces pain."

The young man continued without a comment to her question. "As the planet softened and love grew, our attention was drawn to the stars. Our more adventuresome friends realized they could think of a place to go, and would travel there in a flash. It replaced conventional means of travel here. We could go anywhere in the Universe that we could think of."

Hope's overwhelm was complete. She could say nothing, but her heart overflowed with longing. Her eyes begged Tim.

"As I have said..." he paused. He looked into Hope's eyes, seeing the pain, the crippling disease, the confusion. He saw her plea to be made well. "We call it thought displacement. We displace a sick thought with a well thought, and concentrate all of our attention on it. In the beginning we found it difficult to continue to ignore the negative. Because of you, we realized that not only could our lives be different, they would be different."

"You taught us patience." A young woman stepped over to the bed. My name is Miriam. I'm glad you have traveled here. We can show you how to heal yourself. I have been practicing for two hundred years."

Hope gasped.

Miriam smiled. "There is no death here now unless we ask for it. Our bodies youth-en. The cells regenerate and our DNA improves itself with our thoughts."

Joseph piped up from across the room. "I'm a farmer. In addition to growing food for people, I grow a small amount of my crop for birds and insects. I have an agreement with them that I will continue to plant food for them, and I ask them to leave the rest of the crop for us. Which they do."

Tim interrupted. "What Joseph is getting at is we live in harmony. We wish all of us, our planet, all of its inhabitants to enjoy being here. We no longer have to compete with anyone or anything." He smiled seeing the look on Hope's face.

"We will stay here with you now in this dimension that is neither your time nor ours but a overlay of the two, in an altered state of time/space. We will care for you, feed you, and nurture you. I will teach you the process you began that we have now perfected. I will teach you how to displace your thoughts. He picked up Hope's deformed hand and kissed it gently and lovingly.

"Since you time-traveled to us, you can go back to an earlier time before your illness. You can think your way back to the moment you left, if you wish."

Hope's teaching began. She had never felt before the level of love, peace and friendship she now felt with the people of the future. Their kindness renewed her faith and trust. Her heart opened. Her joints relaxed. With simple thought processes, her body began to change. Her body stopped attacking itself through the immune system and began to reverse its terrible symptoms. The delicious foods she was fed replenished her starving body.

Tim was correct. Their condensing and understanding of thought displacement escalated Hope's recovery. Before five months had elapsed, Hope was whole and sound. Her body was more beautiful than before. No pain or stiffness nor crippling effects remained. The day arrived when it was time for Hope to return to her former life.

"Will my body revert back to being crippled?" she asked fearfully. As she spoke she felt a familiar stiffness begin in her neck.

"So long as you continue to displace negative or limiting thoughts with positive ones, you will be fine," said Miriam, hugging Hope good-bye.

"Oh," said Hope, "I forgot." She flexed her neck. The stiffness was gone. She hugged and kissed her new friends. A tug at her chest reminded her how much she cared for them. She sniffed, her eyes brimming over. "I love you all so much. Thank you for giving my life back to me."

They smiled at her. Nothing was forever in their world.

"I'm sure I'll see you again," whispered Joseph.

Hope closed her eyes, and remembered her old bedroom when she was sixteen. In an instant she was there. The morning sun was beginning to light it up.

For a moment Hope was afraid to move. "What if it was all a dream?" She moved her arm. It was pain-free! She sat up quickly.

"Mother!" she shouted. Then more urgently. "Mommy!" She could hear footsteps running down the hall.

#

#

# IT'S NOT FAIR

#

Once upon a time, there was a young girl by the name of Kathy. She believed that life should always be fair, for everyone. She was concerned and upset to discover that this wasn't always the case. Sometimes nice people had awful calamities happen to them. Other times terrible and uncaring people seemed to get richer and more powerful without anything bad happening to them. Kathy was disturbed by this.

Late one night, a special messenger came into her room.

Kathy awoke with a start.

The being was definitely from somewhere else in the cosmos. The creature looked like an extremely tall, slender person, only with blue skin with blue feathers all over its human-like body. It had long, slender arms and fingers, with ruffled feathers on its head like a pompadour hairdo. Its mouth was shaped like a chicken's beak, only more rounded, like lips.

Kathy wasn't sure what to make of the space being. However, it seemed friendly, so Kathy relaxed.

The Blue Space Chicken* told Kathy telepathically, "I know you feel is that life isn't fair, that things don't work in accordance with any kind of rhyme, reason, law, or justice. Everything in life seems out of control and out of balance. However, I would like to tell you three stories about people in your life, so that you can know there is justice and fairness everywhere in the world."

"Do you remember the time when your husband John was working for Mr. Stingyman? There would be nights that John would come home from work and be aggravated because Mr. Stingyman was always blaming other people for his financial losses. He believed his employees were stealing from him and that his customers were trying to rip him off and cheat him out of money. Do you remember, Mr. Stingyman?"

Kathy nodded her head yes."

"We are not allowed to directly interfere with people lives. So what we're trying to do is send messages so folks on your planet can see what's going on. Now in the case of Mr. Stingyman, the first warning was his teenage daughter got strung out on a combination of recreational drugs and alcohol. She became mentally deranged and had to be put into a Mental Institution. Do you remember that?

"It was awful."

"Yes, John told you. O.K. Well, that was Mr. Stingyman's first message, for him to become kinder to people, to treat people more fairly, to stop blaming them. In other words, he was told to be a more decent human being. But...Mr. Stingyman wasn't listening."

"Oh, is that how it works?"

The Blue Space Chicken continued his story. "The next event was that his wife almost died from a tubal pregnancy. You remember that too?"

"Um hm."

"You have a good memory. His wife went into the hospital. The hospital staff stopped her bleeding, but then she went home and hemorrhaged again, and almost died. You remember that?

"Yes."

That was his second warning. But Mr. Stingyman got worse than ever. He blamed people even more. He became more miserly. He believed that everybody was trying to cheat him out of his money, maybe even his relatives. Something had to be done."

"He wasn't learning, was he?" asked Kathy.

"No," replied the Blue Space Chicken. "Mr. Stingyman's favorite person in the whole world was his youngest child, his little two-year-old daughter, whom he dearly loved."

"Oh, no...."

"Yes, Kathy. His beloved daughter got leukemia. We know Mr. Stingyman was sad about her disease but he still didn't learn. The child went into remission. But, Mr. Stingyman continued his bad behavior. The child died when she was five. Perhaps, this may seem harsh and cruel to you, but the child is okay on the other side of the veil. Nothing happened to her. She is fine where she is. What's true is that Mr. Stingyman had three chances to change his unkind behavior but still he didn't see."

"That's terrible!"

"The universe is fair and just, Kathy. Mr. Stingyman created his own problems by not paying attention and refusing to learn to be a better, kinder person. Maybe he will learn now. Only time will tell."

"Are you listening, Mr. Stingyman?" Kathy shuddered.

"The second story I want to tell you, Kathy, is about your rude Uncle Cheat. Do you remember Uncle Cheat?"

"He came to live with John and me for a few months. All my plants died. I didn't feel good around him either."

"That's correct. But Uncle Cheat was determined that he was going to get something for nothing. He bragged and boasted that he was going to cheat the Government. He got very special, expensive teeth implanted and he fooled the Government into paying for the teeth by lying to them. You know what happened to your Uncle Cheat, then Kathy?"

"No, tell me."

"Just a year after his new teeth were implanted, which the government had paid for, he was in a car accident. Uncle Cheat was thrown from the car, knocked unconscious, and when he woke up all of his teeth were torn from his mouth, missing, never to be found again!"

"Now, don't you think that's fair? You never had to complain to the government, turn him in for fraud, or take any action at all. All you had to do was to wait for the Universe to step in. Sometimes it takes a little while to set up the right circumstances for the lesson, but there is always a way to balance it out. Often it's not very pleasant and what we try to do is give people enough signals (even you Kathy). We try to give people warnings so that they will know when to change. We call it instant karma. When finally it becomes so painful, a person has no other choice but to change, learn and grow. We would rather that you not have to get to that extreme, though. We would rather that you discern the messages on your own, quickly. To learn what is kind, loving, and helpful."

"I see," murmured Kathy.

"Then, we have a final story about your neighbor's son, Master Speed. Do you remember, Master Speed?"

"Who could forget him?" She rolled her eyes.

"He felt that the world owed him. He shouldn't have to work. He shouldn't have to go to school. The world was supposed to provide for him. To prove it, Master Speed took a lot of speedy drugs, and stole from people to pay for those drugs. After all, people owed money to him, so he should steal in order to buy drugs. And -- he didn't have to treat people nicely."

"He was awful."

"With Master Speed we were busy trying to keep up with him. Because of his speedy drugs, he didn't always clearly know we were giving him indications. However, we did give him signs even if he wasn't paying attention. People threatened him. He was jailed several times. He didn't change when his girlfriend had a seizure from taking those same drugs and almost died in his arms. He didn't seem to care.

These events scared him for a little while. But he didn't comprehend because his brain was fried. In fact, he became worse than ever. He became violent. His was a sad case.

So then we started taking his relatives away from him. None of them could stand him by this time anyway and he stole from them, too. Even the most cherished people in his life were removed and he was alone. He had no home, no job, and was living on the street. But he still thought people owed him something!

We finally tried the worst thing that we could think of. We had him stabbed. He didn't die but he did spend a lot of time in the hospital on the edge of death. We're hopeful for a change in Master Speed. We don't know. Only time will tell."

Kathy stared ahead, her eyes very wide.

"So you see Kathy, there is nothing that you need to concern yourself with or worry about. There is a plan of justice and balance throughout the Universe. You're not in charge of it, though. You are only in charge of yourself. So what we would like you to do is listen to your own messages. Listen to those voices inside of you, and do the very best job with yourself that you can. And when you love other people and accept them and forgive them, everything will be fine. We want you to know that if you do become uncaring, messages will show up. The messages will be obvious. If you miss the messages, that's not our problem. So ... remember and keep up the good work."

The Blue Space Chicken vanished.

Kathy was shaking with alarm, as she looked around the room. The walls and ceiling looked normal. The Blue Space Chicken was gone. She was unharmed.

She sighed with relief. "That means I don't have to be concerned about what anyone else is doing. I only need to work on myself, while the universe takes care of everyone else."

She turned over and went back to sleep.

(*Thanks to Corey Goode, David Wilcock and James O. Holmes)

#

#

# BILLY BUTTERFLY

#

Once upon a time, there was an orange fuzzy caterpillar by the name of Billy, who lived in a forest. This forest was an ancient forest, with old oak trees, and beautiful wild flowers like columbine, blue cornflowers, alyssum, and red poppies growing everywhere. Underneath the trees was a thick carpeting of moss, mushrooms, and composting leaves. Everywhere squirrels dashed to and fro. Within this magnificent forest the sun's rays shone through the leaves and illuminating the floor below shimmering all shades of green.

In this forest, Billy found all his favorite plants to eat. Because he was a caterpillar, he was hungry most of the time, and spent most of his days eating.

One particular plant in the forest had very wide, green, succulent leaves. They were the tastiest of all the plants. It was the leaves of the WHAT IS plant. Billy ate them frequently.

Billy encouraged some of his other caterpillar friends to eat those leaves of the WHAT IS plant too, but for some reason they weren't interested. Although the leaves were extremely delicious, his friends did not care to try them. Billy spent a lot of his days eating WHAT IS leaves by himself.

Now one day, the forest got dark and cool. Billy got quite sleepy. He climbed into his favorite tree higher and higher, and then attached himself to one of the young branches protected by the trunk.

He couldn't stay awake. Before he knew what he was doing, he was creating a little bed for himself out of golden threads coming from his body. He spun and spun, and tucked himself into his own little bed from the threads and soon was fast asleep.

A very, very long time passed and still Billy slept.

Then one day rain came and cried over the forest. The rain's tears touched the tree on which Billy was sleeping. As the tears hit his bed, Billy started to wake up. Billy noticed that his bed was feeling tight and uncomfortable. There was hardly any room.

He thought, "My goodness! Why would I create a bed that was too tight for me?"

He wiggled and he wiggled to get himself out of his bed. He kept thinking, as he was wiggling out of his bed, "My goodness. I feel different. I feel strange." Then he wiggled some more.

As he pulled himself out of his little bed, which was now a dried up hard sack, he realized he was hanging on the branch of the tree. He noticed he wasn't at all the same as he used to be. He looked down at himself. His caterpillar body was completely gone. Instead he had fine legs and arms, with beautiful little antenna coming right out of his head. He felt very light. As he looked over his shoulder, he noticed that there were magnificent wings spreading out on his back and drying in the sun.

He thought, "My goodness. I'm different!" Just then a shadow passed over the sun, and came to where Billy stood holding onto his branch. Billy noticed that the shadow was other butterflies.

They congratulated him for eating the leaves of the WHAT IS plant. One of them said, "You know, those are very magical leaves. To eat and to accept WHAT IS, is the most powerful of all plants. As you can see, it transformed you entirely."

"It's too bad my friends couldn't eat WHAT IS," sighed Billy.

"Someday they might, when they find out how delicious and transforming WHAT IS. Right now we are here and we are your new friends."

They grinned at him. Billy grinned back, and they all flew off together into the sunshine.

#

# THE MAGI AND THE SLAVE GIRL

#

Once upon a time there was a slave girl by the name of Laylona. She belonged to a family of merchants, and although she was only just a servant girl, she was treated well. One of her daily tasks was to go down to the marketplace and purchase the family's food, incense, and lamp oil. Since she was entrusted with money for the purchase, it was obvious that she was high in favor with the merchant family.

She was very pretty, and slender, with a narrow waist, long dark hair to her hips, and luminous dark eyes. Although she was meek, as was her station in life, when she looked up, her eyes were very intelligent. She had many men inquire after her, including some wealthy merchants. She had requested her master to keep her with the family and not sell her off. The family was fond of her, and did not need the money, and so they granted her request.

Unknown to Laylona, there was one man who watched with great interest as she daily went to the market. His name was Baajon. He was a Magi, which in those days was a combination of magician, spiritual teacher and mystic, and sometimes a used camel salesman. He had lived many years alone on his hill, only rarely mixing with the townspeople, except to heal the sick or to sell camels. Usually he kept to himself and other Magi friends.

One day when he was in the market place, he had seen Laylona. His interest perked up. He could feel her sensitivity and intelligence, plus she was quite attractive. Baajon had great wisdom and intuition, and felt a stirring in his heart such as he had never felt before. So he positioned himself to watch Laylona on her rounds every day and study her. He noticed that she was very firm with the booth keepers, and bargained for the best prices. He noticed also that she was sweet tempered and never raised her voice or looked cross.

One day he watched a group of boys run through the square and accidentally knocked over an old woman's booth.

Laylona stopped her shopping and helped set the booth back up.

He was curious why this woman with such sensitivity, intelligence, and trustworthiness was an unfortunate slave. Afterwards Baajon decided to follow Laylona to her home. He made himself invisible with a magic cloak so that she would not know he was there.

As she reached the gates of the Merchant's house, Laylona turned and said "I know you are there and have followed me. I also know you have been watching me. Who are you and what do you want from me?"

Baajon was totally taken by surprise and could not answer.

Laylona shrugged her shoulders, opened the gate, and went into the house.

Baajon wandered through the streets, out of town, and up to his hill. "How could she have known I was there?" he mused. "No one has ever seen me when I am invisible." His curiosity and interest grew even higher.

The next day Baajon decided he would wait for the servant girl outside the Merchant's house, still invisible, and see what would happen.

As she came out through the gate, Laylona said, "Why would you not answer me yesterday? Who are you and what do you want?"

Baajon decided it was time to appear. He flung off his cloak of invisibility. As he materialized, he heard the girl give a small gasp of surprise.

"Do I know you?" she asked.

"I have watched you for eight days, then followed you home yesterday, and here I am today," replied Baajon.

"No, that is not what I mean," said Laylona. "You seem familiar, like I have known you for a long time."

"I only saw you for the first time ten days ago," said he.

"No, no. I have known you forever, it seems," insisted Laylona. "Well, perhaps not. But there is a persistent feeling I don't understand. Anyway, you have not yet answered my question. Who are you and what do you want?"

Baajon took a moment, and breathed deeply before answering. "I am Baajon, a Magi. I live on the hill outside the town gates. I want to get to know you better. I watched you in the market place, especially when you helped set up the booth that was knocked over. I felt drawn to you. Please pardon me for my forwardness and rudeness to have followed you without introducing myself. I am unused to people and so I forget my manners. You are a rare woman. I was compelled to follow you, and learn more about you. I am sorry for troubling you. I will leave now."

"No, don't go!" exclaimed Laylona. "You are not troubling me. I have felt you watching me and wondered why. I have felt your attraction and interest. I myself, have not been interested in any man at any time in my life before now. They were boring, or coarse, or uncaring, or insensitive. So I have waited. I am content to stay alone all my life, if need be. However, with you I am strangely moved. Although I have never met you, you seem to be extremely familiar."

"Well, dear lady, I must be going."

"I don't understand. You have followed me for ten days, have just introduced yourself, and now you are running off?"

"Yes, I forget myself. It is in our Magi order that we may not spend time with women. We might forget ourselves, and lose our powers. Then where would we be? It has been wonderful to meet you. So sorry to have troubled you. Good-bye. Good-bye." So saying, he whisked out of sight.

Laylona stood perplexed. "I don't understand. Why did he go through so much trouble only to leave suddenly?" Her eyebrows furrowed in puzzlement. Laylona slowly walked to the marketplace. Her thoughts raced in puzzlement. As she shopped, Laylona noticed a tugging at her heart. It was like a bird had awakened there and struggled to get free.

Later that night, Laylona laid on her pallet, thinking about the day's events, and wondering again about Baajon. "This is so strange. Why would he follow me, and then leave? It is clear that he is attracted to me. I suppose his order of Magi is very strict when it comes to women. He knew that when he was following me and watching me, and yet... Hmm. I wonder..." She drifted off into a sleep with dreams that wouldn't rest.

Off on his hill, Baajon was also having difficulties with his thoughts. He had been content all his life before now. His heart felt a disquiet and would not be still. His fellow Magi had from time to time talked about women and the stirrings they had felt. Baajon never felt those stirrings before. He was beyond his body and his feelings, and was one with Nature.

Now he felt his body come to life in a way that was exciting but disturbing, and he felt afraid. He shivered. He could remember Laylona, her body, her long dark hair softly blowing in the morning breeze, her questioning eyes looking at him. He could not get the impressions out of his mind. He decided to free his mind and visit her on the mental realm.

As quickly as he had the thought, his essence hovered over Laylona's sleeping form. His body however was still back in his room. Only his essence was there watching her breathing, her chest rising and falling rhythmically. He floated closer.

Just then Laylona woke up, and opened her eyes. "Baajon," she murmured, and held out her arms.

Without a moment's hesitation, Baajon, floated down and into her arms. Their beings melted together in ecstasy.

"My darling," whispered Laylona. "I feel such a deep love for you. I cannot explain it, even to myself. My feelings are so strong. I am at home and at peace with you. And I feel a lightness and freedom to be myself."

Baajon held her tighter. "I also feel this and I am worried. Perhaps you have put a spell on me."

"I have no such power, except the power of a woman who is in love." And she sighed.

They fell asleep, and were still together when the dawning sun brought its light into the room.

Baajon awoke with a start, realizing where he was. He floated up, and quickly left, guilt bringing a hot flush to his face. "What have I done?" he furiously asked himself when he was back in his room. "This is against all the commandments I have been taught by the Magi order. I have ruined myself and shamed my master." He pounded his fists against the walls of his room. His knuckles were pink with bruising. He flung himself to his cot and prayed.

Back at the merchant's house, Laylona was lazily waking up, having slept longer than usual. Her eyes opened wide when she realized that Baajon was gone. In her chest the bird struggled harder. She sadly got up, put her clothes on, and prepared herself for the shopping at the marketplace. As she left the Merchant's courtyard, she hoped Baajon would be following her, but he did not.

She walked slowly to the booths, and half-heartedly bargained for the day's goods. Her heart was not in it. She kept hoping and waiting for Baajon to be there, even invisible, but he did not show up. She sighed and walked home again.

Baajon contacted his Master Teacher via the spirit plane. He explained what was happening.

His teacher Ji-Rama was upset, but since Baajon had not been with Laylona in person, only in essence, he would be given one more chance. "But never, never should Baajon attempt to meet her or see her with his mind-self," he admonished him.

Baajon promised his Master he would return to his solitary ways.

Ji-Rama left.

Days passed. Baajon prayed mightily. He fasted. He avoided the other Magi in the area. He meditated on his good works. Still Laylona kept invading his thoughts. He put a barrier around himself to protect himself from his feelings. His chest burned inside. "What is happening to me?" he questioned in desperation. "Am I going mad? I must remember who I am."

Back at the merchant's house, the merchant and his family worried about Laylona. She hardly smiled, her hair was disheveled, and she grew thin from not eating.

She kept sending her thoughts to Baajon, but they were only reflected back to her. "He has put up a barrier against me," she said to herself. "I am not a danger to him. I only love him. I love him deeply. I don't know why. I hardly know him. But he is the beloved I know in my dreams. What am I to do?" And she wept into her hands.

One night Baajon was praying as usual. And as usual his thoughts were of Laylona. He struggled to push her out of his thoughts, but the feelings persisted in his heart. "I can stand this no longer. I will surely die." For an instant his barrier went down, and again he was connected to Laylona. He saw her in her little room, thinner, paler with reddened eyes. In an instant he saw the truth. They were meant to be one with each other. They had found their soul mates. They had found each other and belonged together.

Baajon stood up. He felt a mighty tearing as his heart cracked open. Flowers bloomed in his heart. Soft white doves flew all around his house. A sweet fragrance of jasmine filled his room. "My love," he murmured. His cloak of the Magi order fell from his shoulders and burst into flames on the floor. But Baajon felt freer and stronger and purer than he had ever felt before.

His teacher Ji-Rama appeared to him. "My devoted student, you can no longer avoid your truth. It is more important to be an ordinary man now than a Magi. But because your devotion and love is strong, I will make you a Teacher of Men. You may now go into the world with your Beloved and teach the power and majesty of love. You will serve me well in your new office.

As he finished speaking, Ji-Rama manifested a winged griffin to come into the room.

Baajon climbed aboard and was taken to Laylona's room.

Laylona had felt the change come over Baajon. She was waiting in her finest gown for him. A radiant smile was on her face.

"My Master has given me my freedom because I love you," she told Baajon.

"My master has given me my freedom too," he said.

They embraced each other tenderly. Their hearts beat together as one; their souls caressing one another in their depths of being. She joined Baajon on the Griffin. Together they flew into the setting moon to find their new home, where they would be together as one always.

#

# A GATHERING OF ANGELS

#

Diana Peterson, suicide casualty, age 38, appeared before a panel of eleven Angels. They were Record Keeping Angels. As Diana stood there in front of them, they kindly asked her to sit down.

The head Angel said to her, "My dear we need to know, for the record, two important details. The first is, why did you choose to end your life sooner than was scheduled? And second, are you ready to prepare a contract for your new life, to determine where you're going next?"

Diana sat facing the Council, feeling confused and dazed. "I thought that I'd go to heaven when I die," she said. "Is this heaven?"

"Oh no," said Angel #2. "That's just a myth. You have many lessons that you need to learn. How do you suppose you could learn everything you know from one lifetime? No, we give you lots of chances to learn what you aspire to. We assist and advise you in choosing each lifetime, such as where you want to go, what sort of circumstances do you want to be born into, and what you want to learn next."

Diana gasped. This was different than anything she had ever been taught. "I guess I better tell you where I came from. You see, I grew up with two very unloving parents. They didn't really care about me or talk to me. They usually were involved with their own lives and their own friends. I never felt supported or loved by them. They never hugged me. In fact, I never even saw them hug or kiss in my presence. I suppose that's why I'm so cold and distant myself."

The Angels nodded their individual heads.

"Also, I was stuck in a horrible job. I didn't know what I wanted to do. I tried many jobs. I seemed to have barely enough skills for any particular kind of work, so it wasn't very rewarding. Money was really tight. My dream job was to become an actress. I didn't have many friends, only had one or two. Many times they'd go away and I'd be alone again. I'm kind of odd looking. Some people say I'm pretty but I think that I don't fit in with most people. I'm not like usual people. I have a lot of strange ideas and my actions aren't really normal. I like to be by myself a lot and think. So you see, I don't really fit in with life."

"Also, I was often sickly. I didn't have a lot of energy. I was tired and I'd have to go to bed a lot. There would be times that I wouldn't want anybody to be in my life, and I would be irritable. Also, I'm really tired of being a push over, a door mat, that people could get anything they wanted from me. I was afraid to say no. I thought I was a bad person if I said no."

"I got to the point that I didn't want to live anymore. Call it quits, and go on to Heaven. Maybe I could rest there. But now I realize it's not true. What you're telling me is this is heaven. And I have to go back there again to keep working on myself." Diana paused for a breath. She had spoken more than ever before in her life.

Angel #3 spoke up. "Yes it's true that you have to go back. However, you can choose whatever it is that you want for yourself when you do go back. You explained why you killed yourself. Now that you're here, you can make a new contract with us."

"Oh gosh. I know some Hispanic people who came from large loving families. They were cheerful, giving and close-knit. If I have to go back, I'd like to live with a Hispanic family, maybe in California."

"Sometimes, I've seen black families, too, that were loving and sweet. The only thing I wouldn't want to experience if I went to those kinds of families is prejudice from other people."

She thought for a moment and added: "OK, let's see, I want to not have to work very hard at a job. Or I want a rich husband. Or I would be smart enough to easily earn lots of money on my own. I could work when I wanted to and would love my job. I'm tired being in a dead end job."

She continued. "I want to be creative and contribute something special to the world through my job. I would like to have a friendly personality and have a lot of friends, and have everybody like me. I would have time to myself if I wanted."

"I would be pretty with a good figure. I would be liked but not just for looks alone. I would be pretty inside as well as outside. And everyone would say, she is a great person."

"I'd like to have good robust health and lots of energy so I could accomplish the things I want."

"I'd really like to care about people."

"I want to be a loving parent or maybe have no children. Maybe being childless would be a better idea, until I could learn how to be a good parent."

"The last thing I would like is to be assertive, that I could say no if I wanted to and yes if I wanted to. I could do what I wanted and no one would really mind or have any judgments of me and I would be free to go and come as I choose."

"Diana that sounds like quite an impressive contract," remarked the head Angel, "I think we can arrange all those things for you. I have just one more question for you about your contract. What do you hope to learn by being in that new life?"

"Oh," said Diana. "Do you mean I have to decide what I want to learn?"

"Of course," replied the Angel, "That's what it's all for - to evolve, learn and grow."

"I'd like to understand what love is all about. I'd like to accomplish that. No, I think I'd like to accomplish loving myself and giving myself enough happiness, money, and security, so I wouldn't believe that death was my only option."

"That sounds excellent," said Angel #4. "I think we have a good contract. Alright, here is a copy of the contract for you, Diana, and we will keep a copy in your records."

"You know what?" said Diana, "Suddenly I'm worried I'm going to hell. You tell me I'm not going to heaven. So am I going to hell?"

"Oh goodness, NO!" explained Angel #2. "Where have you heard these stories? There is not a place anywhere in the Universe that punishes you. We don't believe in punishment. We also don't believe in reward. We just believe in love. We also know that heaven and hell are inside of you. If you think one certain kind of feeling then it feels like heaven, but if you think another sort of thing, I'm sure you can tell us that it feels like hell."

"That's true," said Diana. "I've never really thought of it like that. It's how you look at things to determine if you live in heaven or hell. Only I can reward or punish myself."

"You might be interested in hearing about your last contract. You would find it illuminating," added Angel #4.

"I didn't know there was an old contract."

"Yes, we would like to tell you the contract that you had in the life before Diana Peterson. You were an Italian woman who died in 1926. You had eleven children. There was lots of hard work. You had a very large, close family, lots of relatives, and delicious food. You were round, a robust, energetic woman who was quite attractive.

Your new contract as Diana after your Italian life was: parents who would give you space to treat you like you were a smart person, to give you freedom, to trust you to take care of yourself. Your parents would be detached enough to let you be independent, to go where you wanted, without breathing down your neck."

Angel #3 took over. "You wanted to have a job like a man. You wanted to have time to dream, to think, to create. You wanted few people around, a couple of friends. You wanted to be tall and thin and not told so often what a pretty woman you were or what a good mother you were or what a nice person you were. You wanted to be unique, to stand out, to do different things, to maybe be like the women in the movies. Because you worked so hard in Italy with children, cooking and cleaning, you didn't want to have to work so hard. You thought you could be sickly like the movie character Camille. You wanted few or no children, so that you could rest. Whatever children you did have would be independent. You would like to be more lady-like and quiet because you had been loud and boisterous as an Italian woman. Those were the items in your old contract."

Diana sat wonderingly. "It sounds like I got what I wanted. Parents that gave me space to be myself. I was tired so I rested a lot which kept me from working too hard. I've been quite creative, even acted some. All in all, I'm so confused. I killed myself because I got what I wanted!" She put her hands over her eyes in despair.

"No, no," said Angel #3 gently. "It was how you thought about yourself in your life, seeing yourself as unhappy and a failure that you chose death."

"You can have all the chances you want," added the head Angel, patting Diana's shoulder. "You are not doomed forever. You keep going back until you learn it is not what you have or who you are that counts. It's how you love yourself and others, that feels like heaven."

Suddenly the Angelic Council disappeared. Everything around her became black. Diana felt like she was dizzily careening through space.

The next thing Diana heard was a doctor saying, "It's a beautiful little girl, Mrs. Sanchez." The doctor was surprised the baby didn't cry.

#

# LITTLE BOY LOST

#

Once upon a time there was a small boy named Mattie who was age nine years old. He lived with his Mom and Dad, two brothers and three sisters, in a white cottage in the desert. The desert was desolate, wind-blown and nothing much grew except some cactus, yucca and agave.

Mattie was an unusual young man. Ever since he was a baby he believed he could fly. He told his Mom often.

But she would consistently reply, "Now, now, Mattie, we know that flying is impossible."

"But Mom, I know I can."

"I'm busy with dinner right now, Mattie," his mom would say. "We'll talk about this later with your Dad." Although that meeting never happened.

Mattie knew he could fly, even though he hadn't done it yet. What he didn't tell his Mom was that not only did he know he could fly, he wanted to fly to the edge of the desert, where there was a beautiful garden. No one had ever been out of the desert, to see if there was a garden, but Mattie knew one was there. Probably Mom wouldn't believe that either.

The little boy sat on his front porch one blisteringly hot day and stared out cross the desert. "Someday I will fly," he resolved. "And then I will find that beautiful garden."

That night Mattie fell into a deep sleep.

Just then above his bed appeared a beautiful Golden Fairy.

"Mattie," she whispered. "Wake up. It's time to fly!"

Mattie opened his eyes, and they grew wide when he saw the Gold Fairy hovering over his bed. As he stared at her, he could feel his body grow light, and just like that, he was floating above his bed! "Wow, wait 'til I tell Mom about this!" he muttered.

"Come with me, Mattie. We're going to see the Garden." encouraged the Gold Fairy. The ceiling of his room opened up. Then Mattie and the Fairy flew out of the Little Boy's house.

They flew effortlessly, higher, past other houses, very high up, until they almost touched the clouds. Mattie could feel the wind blow, ruffling his hair. It felt cool on his cheeks. He looked down and saw the desert moving past them far below. For a while he could see houses, and then nothing but wilderness.

Lights appeared on the horizon. Mattie and the Gold Fairy flew down towards the Lights.

Mattie could see the boundary of the desert, and just beyond was the greenest green he had ever seen.

Thousands of fireflies hovered over the Garden, lighting it up.

Mattie and the Gold Fairy landed in the center of the Garden, next to a rippling fountain with water lilies floating in it. A tall stand with a huge book on it stood next to the fountain. All around the fountain were plants of every variety, flowers of every color. Daisies, tulips, roses, hyacinths, lilies, orchids, every kind of flower that grew, all at the same time.

As Mattie walked around admiring them, he could smell their perfume drift towards him, and their scent wound around him.

Beyond the plants and flowers, Mattie could hear the bubbling of a stream, whispering to Mattie. Mattie walked over to the murmuring brook. Flowers, plants and ferns grew in profusion by the stream. He put his hand in the water. It was cool and refreshing. He bent his head down and took a sip of sparkling cold, clear water. Little fish swam around, nibbling at his fingers. His head filled with whisperings from the brook.

"Mattie, Mattie, there are so many secrets for you to know. It's all in the book," murmured the water. "The Book by the Fountain."

He said good-bye to the bubbling stream and went back to the Book on its rostrum. Mattie stood on a stool so he was tall enough to read it. It had his name on it! "Gosh, it's my Book," said Mattie to the Gold Fairy. "How did anyone know I was coming here?"

Just as Mattie was about to open the Book, the Gold Fairy motioned to him, gently. "Come with me, little boy," she said. "It's almost dawn. We must return to your home."

As she spoke those words, Mattie felt himself floating upwards, and leaving the Garden. "I'll be back," he promised.

Dawn was starting to break in the east, when Mattie and the Gold Fairy floated down into his house. Gently they drifted down, and Mattie quite easily floated into bed, and instantly fell asleep.

The Gold Fairy kissed him gently on his forehead, and was gone.

The rooster was crowing. Mattie opened his eyes and stretched a long, lazy stretch. He yawned. "I feel great!" he said. Boy, what a good sleep." He walked downstairs.

His mom was in the kitchen cooking breakfast. "Good morning Mattie," she said. "How did you sleep?"

"I slept fine, Mom. I feel great," said Mattie.

"You can go play for a while, because breakfast isn't ready yet," said Mom.

So Mattie, stretching and yawning, went to go sit on his front porch. "I wonder why I feel so good?" questioned Mattie. "I must have had good dreams, or something."

As he sat on his front porch, he could feel a cool wind blowing by his face, ruffling his hair, feeling cool on his cheeks. But there was no wind. He could smell the most delightful fragrances like nothing he had ever remembered. But where was it coming from? Mattie then could taste something cold and clear in his mouth. Very curious.

Just then Mattie's mom called him for breakfast.

With a smile of remembrance breaking across Mattie's face, he went into breakfast.

#

#

# ANGELA AND THE GIFT OF RECEIVING

#

Once upon a time there was a Girl-Woman by the name of Angela. She was a girl-woman because, although she lived in a woman's grown-up body, she had still never really become a woman in her feelings, in her emotions, but she was still a little girl inside.

Angela lived in a country that was gray. All that existed were shades of gray. There were no colors. There wasn't even any black or white. Living was monochromatically, monotonously gray.

The only food that people who lived in this land ever ate was turnips and potatoes, or potatoes and turnips. All they ever had to drink was murky warm water. All their clothes were made of rough gray cloth. The sky was gray. The hills were gray. The leaves were gray. The houses were gray. In short, it was a gray existence.

The night of Angela's 22nd birthday, she had a dream. This was something unheard of. In this land of gray, no one dreamed.

She dreamt that she went to a magnificent party. The celebration was held in a huge ballroom that held at least a thousand people. The walls were hung with draperies of silks and satins of the brightest hues and colors. Angela had never seen these colors. In fact, she did not even know that such colors existed.

Within this banquet hall there were huge tables of wood, teak, oak, mahogany, and other smooth shiny wood. The polished beautiful tables of wood were laid with the finest foods and drinks, tastes that Angela had never sampled in her entire life.

Attractive people stood around, eating and drinking and laughing, all of which Angela had never experienced before. There were wonderful, rich, succulent foods, luscious fruits and vegetables in every color, and dripping with flavor. There were different goblets of wines, fruit nectars and sparkling drinks. Each person had a variety to choose from.

Angela stood shyly to one side in awe. She couldn't absorb the absolute beauty, the richness of the place. She started to walk into the room. Just then everyone looked up and saw her in her drab gray dress. Suddenly she was awake.

Angela lay in her gray bed, with the gray sheets and blankets, and cried. She wanted so much to be in the magnificent room with marvelous, interesting people laughing and playing, feasting and drinking, with multi-colors and textures, and hangings of the room. She remembered the clothing and the flags hanging, and the polished woods of the table and the delicious food. Angela vowed that somehow, someday she would return to that magnificent feast.

The next night when Angela went to sleep, she again had the dream of the ballroom. This time it was even more magnificent then she had remembered before. The food was even more delectable. Chocolates for desert, and all kinds of cakes and creamy filled deserts. Everyone looked healthy and well nourished, because the food was not just tasty but also nutritious. She noticed the people's clothes were soft and silky. Then noticed that she had a colorful dress on, a beautiful yellow dress of satin. It talked to her as she walked, the folds whispering with every step. She could feel its softness under her fingertips. She walked into the room feeling like a part of it. Everyone looked up but she woke up again.

She cried even harder this time upon awakening. "Why couldn't I live in that glorious place, instead of existing in this gray land with turnips and potatoes to eat and tepid water to drink, and rough gray clothing to wear. Where no one smiles and no one laughs?"

The third night Angela went to sleep again and returned to the banquet. The colors were even more brilliant. The people were happier. This time Angela was seated at a table wearing a scarlet silk dress that flowed to her feet and felt like angel webs on her body. The people talked and laughed with her. She was able to talk and laugh with them quite naturally, as if she had been acting that way her entire life. She felt a sparkle in the air. She reached out to taste something from the table.

Again she woke up.

When she woke up this time, she felt hopeless. "Am I always going to wake from my dream? The place was so amazingly beautiful. Why must I live in this land of gray drabness?"

She could hardly wait for sundown the fourth night. She went to bed very early, tossing and turning until at last she fell asleep.

She was at the table again. This time it was a brass table and glowed bright gold, gleamed and shone like the sun. Wonderful foods and drinks were on it. There were so many items, she could hardly choose.

She noticed there was a spoonful of each item on her plate. She gently picked each item up one at a time, then put it into her mouth and savored it. Her taste buds exploded with flavor. The various foods were succulent and melted in her mouth.

A woman came up to her and poured a bubbly sparkling drink into her goblet. Angela reached over to grasp the goblet but it spilled.

She woke up. "No, no!" Angela cried. "Was this to be my fate? To be forever reaching out, only never to get, never to receive?"

The next day she stayed in bed and sulked. There was a full moon that night, a bright silvery sphere in the sky.

As she lay in her bed, the magical moonlight shone in through her window. She fell asleep long after midnight.

She found herself in the banquet room, which was even bigger and more colorful, the food even tastier, and the people more loving and sweet, kind and laughing, joking and pleasant. Angela was beside herself with tastes. She could smell incense and other sweet, aromatic scents. There were candles on the table, flickering different colors, and bright fires burning in the fireplaces. Everything was magnificent! Angela ate and drank and enjoyed herself with all these people that now welcomed her as one of their own.

The individuals from the group gave each other gifts, wrapped with shiny paper and sparkly bows.

A man brought Angela a gift. It was wrapped in silver with a bright purple bow. It sparkled and shown with the candle light. Angela reached out her hand and took the package from the kind man. But she was so excited, she dropped the gift in her plate. "Oh, no!" she exclaimed and woke up.

She squeezed her eyes shut and said, "I'm going back to sleep right now."

And because this was a magical night, Angela fell asleep once again and awoke in the same place she had been just moments before.

This time she was wearing an emerald green velvet dress. The person was again handing her the present wrapped in silver foil with a purple ribbon on it.

Angela shyly and carefully took the gift in her hands, and undid the ribbon. Then she unwrapped the paper and opened the box.

The present inside the box was her Dream, for Angela to live in forever.

#

# THE STRANGER THAT CAME TO TOWN

#

Once upon a time in Turkey during Ancient Days there lived a family with a headstrong daughter. Her name was Yafuti. Her father was a merchant and made a good living selling silks, fabrics, and carpeting. The family had several servants, so work was easy, although Yafuti refused to do much.

She grew up wild and impetuous. No man would have her for a wife. Yafuti would have refused them all anyway.

Then one day a warrior named Simeon, who had performed many brave deeds in his life, came to court her. Simeon was handsome, obviously courageous, showing her his scars and telling her many stories. He knelt down at her feet. "I want to marry you," he declared.

Yafuti fell in love with him. "You must love me the way I am. You see, I'm willful. I am used to getting my own way in all matters."

Simeon was very troubled to hear this of his wife-to-be, but after considering for a moment, he agreed.

They set plans for their marriage for a time in the future when they could have a huge celebration including relatives traveling from distant places.

During the time of immense preparation, Simeon spent an evening at the court of another family, who were celebrating Simeon's success on their behalf. The man's daughter danced for the occasion. Simeon fell into a trance, attracted by the girl, and spent the night with her.

As this was happening, Yafuti woke up and began to cry. She tried to muffle her crying but she sobbed uncontrollably.

Yafuti's mother heard came her crying. "What is wrong, my dear daughter?"

Yafuti said, "Something is wrong with Simeon. I can feel it. I don't know why but I'm afraid. I don't feel so willful. I've truly given my heart to Simeon and it pains me if he's tricked me into loving him. What if he doesn't care about me at all?"

The mother consoled her. "Yafuti, sweetheart, you've had a bad dream. Just go back to sleep and you'll see that everything will be better in the morning." She hugged her and left to return to her own chamber.

But Yafuti couldn't return to sleep. She instinctively knew that Simeon was with another woman.

In the morning, Simeon felt ashamed and left quickly, hurrying to Yafuti's house. His behavior was cooler. His tales were not quite so bold. His tongue not quite so loose.

"What is the matter, my darling?" she asked him.

"Oh ... nothing," Simeon replied offhandedly.

Yafuti continued. "Something has happened to you. Tell me," she encouraged him.

"Truly, my love, nothing has transpired. Why do you think so?"

"You're leaving me."

He shrugged in response, unable to look at Yafuti's eyes. "I must go, sweet. I have some business to attend to." He kissed her on the tip of her nose.

After Simeon left, she sat in the middle the floor and cried. "He is not coming back!" She felt grief that she had forever lost her one true love. "Oh, help me!" she cried out to no one in particular. "I'm so miserable. What can I do?"

Just then an angelic looking woman entered the room. "Did you call me my child?"

Yafuti replied, "Who are you?"

"I'm your guardian angel. My name is Beatrice."

"Please help me, Beatrice. Help me to know what to do, how to understand my man. Know how to avoid losing Simeon. The pain of his leaving me rips my heart apart."

Beatrice the Guardian Angel advised her, "You must let go of Simeon. If this man is to truly be with you, he'll never leave. He'll always be there. If you let him go, he'll come back. But if you let him go and he never returns, then he was never yours in the first place."

"What!" exclaimed Yafuti, frightened and anxious. "I can't do that."

"Let go of your fear. Let go of your pride. You can only hold on to him by letting him go, as if he were the most delicate of butterflies. If you hold him too tight, you will crush him and he will melt away. Simply love him. Be willing to be strong and brave; indeed, stronger than any warrior facing battle. Let go and let the heavens determine the outcome of your love. No matter what, you will be taken care of."

"I cannot do what you ask." She sat with her head bowed to her chest.

"I'm sorry. This is the way the world works. Consider what I tell you. Do not be hasty or selfish." The wise Angel Beatrice left as quickly as she had arrived.

Yafuti did what she was told, and surrendered. It was not easy, but she let go. Although her chest burned with jealous agony, Yafuti gave up her hold on Simeon. She cried. She prayed for strength. Sometimes she threw her slippers across the room in a fit of rage. After a few days, she calmed down. Her peace returned, even though Simeon didn't.

Weeks went by without word from Simeon.

Her mother was concerned for her welfare, but wisely kept her concern to herself.

Yafuti planned a small trip to visit an aunt of hers, to keep herself occupied from thinking about Simeon so much.

The day before she was to leave, Yafuti noticed the cactus outside her window was blooming, a pretty red flower. She heard footsteps coming up the walk. She froze, afraid to breathe, afraid to think. "Is it...?" Yafuti hurried to the hall.

Simeon stood at the doorway. "My dearest love," he said, opening his arms to her. "I'm sorry to have worried you. The day I last saw you I received word that my father was terribly ill. I rushed to Egypt to care for him. I'm back now to stay."

"Is he okay?" she asked, her face buried in his chest.

"No, he isn't. He died and then we had a funeral."

"I'm so sorry to hear it." She hugged him.

"Thank you."

"I'm glad you are not angry with me," continued Simeon after a long pause.

" I . . . I. . . . have let you go," explained Yafuti. "You see.... I thought you had abandoned me. For another woman. I didn't know about your father."

He blushed. "I'm sorry I hurt you." He embraced her tightly. "I promise I will be kind and loving in the future."

"I'm glad," Yafuti murmured.

"What, beloved?"

"I only said, I'm glad I let go," she said, smiling into his face and kissing his lips.

#

#

# PIRATE'S TREASURE

#

Once upon a time there was a boy by the name of Dino. He belonged to a large family of pirates. His father was a pirate, his grandfather was a pirate, and so on back five generations. When his grandfather died, he bequeathed his eyepatch and sword to Dino in order to carry on the family tradition.

All the boys in the neighborhood were envious of Dino, and asked to see the eyepatch and sword, but Dino always felt embarrassed and kept them hidden away.

When Dino was 18, his father sent him to pirate school. Dino didn't really want to go, but tradition is tradition.

He scored a D- in sword fighting, only because his great-grandfather had started the school. His eyepatch kept slipping off, and as far as a hearty pirate laugh, all that Dino could accomplish was a chuckle.

For his final exam, Dino was given a treasure chest and told to fill it up with booty that he looted from the surrounding countryside. Dino went instead to Woolworth's and spent a month's allowance filling up the chest.

He brought the chest into the pirate school head teacher. The teacher opened up the lid to the chest, and was horrified to find walnut picture frames, yellow yarn complete with knitting needles, a large package of Snickers, and an assortment of goods from Woolworth's. With a sneer, the teacher flunked Dino on the spot, and told him to get out. He was a disgrace to the family name.

Dino hung his head. He felt like a failure. He had a secret feeling of relief, though. He threw the eyepatch and sword into the chest, hefted it to his shoulder, and headed for the parking lot. He threw the chest with its contents into the backseat of his VW convertible, and slowly drove home, not wanting to report his botched attempt at piracy.

Sure enough, as was Dino's concern, his father yelled at him when he got home, then threw him out of the house, swearing that as far as he was concerned, Dino was no longer his son.

Dino called his best friend, Paul, and asked if he could move in with him into Paul's little apartment. When his friend told him yes, Dino moved all his belongings to the studio apartment.

Dino got a job at the same Woolworth's where he bought his "loot." He was not trained to do anything else. At night he came home and sat up late at night writing his feelings down on paper. He felt sorrow. He was a disappointment to the family. He felt mixed emotions, like anger mixed with love for his family. He felt that he had somehow let down the whole world.

One night he was seated on Paul's shabby couch, busily scribbling about his feelings when his friend Paul interrupted him.

"Hey," said Dino.

"Whatcha doin?" asked his friend, Paul. "It's midnight, you know."

"I know. I can't sleep," replied Dino, "and writing helps me to feel better."

"What do you write about?" asked Paul, peering over his shoulder.

"Oh, it's nothing much," replied Dino, self-consciously covering up his writing.

"No, really, I want to read what you wrote."

"Ok," said Dino, "but I'm embarrassed to show you."

"Hey this is good," Paul said some minutes later. "I bet you could sell this stuff! I know a guy who might be able to help you."

True to his word, Paul let the publishing editor read Dino's writing. The editor was enthusiastic about it. An anthology was compiled of Dino's essays.

Ten months later, Dino's book hit the bookstands and the public loved it.

Dino gave up his job at Woolworth's and wrote all day.

He sold a second book and then a third book which within days was on the New York Times best seller list. He sold millions of copies worldwide.

He moved into an apartment of his own, a fancy apartment with a view of the sparkling lights of the city.

One night Dino threw a party for his friends, including Paul and the publishing editor who had helped him become famous. They were all in a silly mood.

Dino said in a moment of vulnerability that he had once flunked out of Pirate School and that there were pirates for five generations in his family.

The group fell silent.

Dino didn't know whether it was disbelief or awkwardness.

Then Paul spoke up. "Hey, man, do you have any pirate stuff we could see?"

Dino replied quietly. "I can show you my grandfather's eyepatch and sword he left me. I'll go get it."

He ran into the extra bedroom that he had made his office. He opened the closet and pulled out the old pirate chest he had kept, with all the loot from Woolworth's, as well as the eyepatch and the sword. He knelt down and opened the lid. Dino's mouth fell open and a low sigh escaped his lips. Since he had last looked inside the chest, the yarn had changed to gold, the knitting needles to diamonds, and the assorted bric-a-brac had become precious jewels.

Dino felt a presence at his side.

It was Paul.

Dino explained what had happened.

Paul started to laugh with appreciation. "It seems simple to me," Paul explained. "When a man is being who he is, rather than what people expect him to be, that is worth a pirate's treasure."

#

#

# MOVE OVER EINSTEIN

#

In the northern city of Milwaukee there lived a childless couple by the name of Jim and Christina Dahl. They were a sweet couple, who liked to befriend people, help stray animals, and volunteer with charities. Their telephone rang a lot, at all times of the day and night.

Jim was an engineer and a part-time philosopher. Christina was a transpersonal psychologist. They were both interested in techniques that worked. Theories that sounded nice, but had no value to making life work better, did not interest them.

One day a psychology colleague of Christina's called her on the phone.

"Hello, Christina, this is Frank Swenson. I have a favor to ask you."

"Hi yourself, Frank. What's the favor?" asked Christina.

"I have a client who came for an initial consultation. She can't afford to pay me, and is feeling desperate."

"So who isn't these days?"

"No, what I mean is I'm not taking any more people for free right now. How is your quota? Can you take Patricia as a client?"

"Of course, Frank, I'll be happy to. Right now I'm feeling quite prosperous."

"Great. I'll have Patricia call you. Talk to you soon, Christina. Give my love to Jim. Bye."

As Christina hung up the phone she had a warm tingling sensation. She smiled to herself. She had feelings of premonition before. It always meant something wonderful.

Jim and Christina's house was their perfect work place. Jim had converted the 2 1/2 car garage to a workroom. His three computers lined one wall; printers and other electronics next to them. His latest hobby was to compare the philosophies of all the world's religions.

Christina's office and consultation room was at the other end of the house, past the living room. She never needed to worry about noise disrupting a session, as the only other room where Jim might venture would be the kitchen. If he could be distracted from his equipment in the garage, that is.

Christina smiled to herself as she sat at her walnut desk in her office. Her hand still lay on the telephone receiver. The warm feeling continued to glow. She looked out the window into her garden beyond. The trees were just coming into blossom with the warm spring weather they were having. Seeing the renewed life imparted joy to her.

"Patricia," Christina said out loud softly.

There was a light knock on the door. It was Jim.

"Come in, honey," she answered.

He tiptoed in, not wanting to disturb her. She turned to face her husband.

"Guess what, sweetie! We're about to share something wonderful."

"What is it? Dessert?" asked Jim, visions of warm apple pie with vanilla bean ice cream in his mind.

"No it's better. I think it's a miracle. I'm getting a new client by the name of Patricia."

Jim looked puzzled.

"It's okay if you don't understand. I have a premonition."

"Oh...," replied Jim knowingly.

Christina was startled by the music of her cell phone again. "Hello. Yes, this is she. Oh, Patricia, I was just thinking about you. When would you like to start? How about now? Great. See you in twenty minutes." Christina hung up, looking pleased with herself.

An hour later the doorbell rang. Christina ran to get it. On the way she surveyed the house. It was in its usual immaculate order. She opened the front door.

Standing on the porch was a haggard, disheveled, despondent young woman. "I'm sorry I'm late. I got lost. I always get lost. I'm really sorry." She reached out her hand to shake Christina's hand.

Christina started to extend her hand.

Patricia grabbed it clumsily and shook it. "I'm Patricia Fratt. Dr. Swenson gave me your number."

"Of course. Why don't you come in and sit down where we can be more comfortable."

"Oh, yeah, sure. Right." Patricia followed Christina through the living room, down the hall into her office.

"Wow. This is gorgeous. You must be rich."

"No, but we're doing alright. Please sit down. Make yourself comfortable."

Patricia sat on the edge of the couch and continued looking around the room with its Oriental vases, crystal decanters, carved teakwood tables, and plush leather couches and chairs.

Christina in the meantime studied Miss Pratt. Patricia looked like she weighed about 250 pounds, and was about 5'7" tall. Her dark blond hair was longer than shoulder length and looked as if it hadn't been washed in a long time. It hung in greasy strands. Her dress didn't fit her well, being a little too tight in places. The heels were worn down on her shoes, and her pantyhose had a big gapping run in the left side. Her makeup, what there was of it, didn't match, and was poorly done. She had chewed off her lipstick.

Christina guessed that she was in her early 20's.

All in all Patricia presented a rather pathetic figure.

Christina's tender heart was touched.

Patricia realized with a start that she was being scrutinized. "Oh, excuse my bad manners. I've never seen such an elegant room before." She seemed overwhelmed.

Christina decided it was time to get down to business. "Frank...I mean Dr. Swenson referred you to me because you want counseling, but can't afford to pay right now."

"Yes." Patricia looked down at her fingernails, which Christina noticed were ragged. The nail polish was peeling off. Patricia started to cry. "I'm very unhappy and lonesome. I really want someone I can just talk to. I'm not very good talking to people, I mean."

Christina smiled at her. Whenever she smiled her whole face lit up. Jim said that when Christina smiled she looked like an angel.

Patricia looked up.

"I would love to start seeing you, Patricia, and please call me Christina. Let's be informal. For example, I won't sit behind my desk and just listen." She came around and sat leisurely on an overstuffed chair and leaned forward. "You know, you are very special, Patricia."

Patricia sat with her eyes bulging, teardrops poised on her cheek. Her mouth fell open slackly. "No one's ever said that to me. I've always thought I'm stupid and a bother to everyone."

Christina sat upright. "You are valuable! Whoever said horrible things to you never knew you. Now listen to me. What I propose is a game. If you want to play, you will not have to pay me anything for my fees. If you don't want to play, you can go home and no blame. The game is simple but sometimes scary. The game requires that you practice every day. When you are finished with the game, however, you will feel wonderful. Now...do you want to play?"

Patricia gulped. "Is this something kinky or illegal? Because if it is I'm leaving now."

"No silly. Of course not. It's the game of Life. I know some special ways to play, and when you practice, miracles happen." Her eyes sparked with excitement.

"OK. I don't have anything to lose. I have so much pain, the only thing to do is get better - or kill myself."

Christina got up, walked over to Patricia, and sat down next to her on the couch. She put her hand lovingly on Patricia's shoulder. "That would be a waste. You are so lovely."

"Lovely? Ha! Look at me closer and see if you can call me lovely," Patricia said bitterly.

"I know that you have not taken care of your looks. That is easily remedied. No, I'm talking about your inner loveliness."

"You're a strange lady," said Patricia, "but I like you. Yes, let's play the game of Life."

"Great," replied Christina springing up from the couch. "From now on, you're a part of my family. You keep your apartment, but I want to see you at least three times a week."

"Okay, I guess I can give up some of my television programs."

Christina smiled at her. "You wait," she thought. "You'll be seeing something better than TV." She went to the garage and asked Jim to come into her office.

"Honey, I'd like you to meet a new member of our family. This is Patricia Pratt. Patricia, this is my husband Jim."

They shook hands cordially.

"Jim, I'd like you to explain our new theory to Patricia. You know, the one that helps make miracles."

He looked at his wife. Her kind beauty really shone at times. "OK, Patricia, have you ever heard of Einstein's theory of relativity?"

Patricia shook her head no.

"I won't confuse you with a lot of scientific explanations. Einstein had a theory. It was E = MC2. It meant that matter could never be destroyed. It could only change form, transform. That's how scientists came up with nuclear power."

Patricia was starting to look bored.

"Anyway," he continued, "our theory works along the same lines as Einstein, only a little different. Our theory is M = ET2. M stands for matter, miracles, bodies, time, our planet, and money. E stands for energy. T2 stands for thoughts of 2 or more people put together. The thoughts have to be special thoughts, though."

Patricia yawned. "What does this have to do with me? I'm not a nuclear physicist, ya know."

"I'm getting to the point. What all this means is that when two or more people think the same thing at the same time, and these thoughts focus on surrendering, telling the truth, living in present time, forgiving and unconditionally loving, matter changes. It changes bodies, time, relationships, and health; in short, it creates miracles."

Patricia sat up suddenly. "Do you mean if you and Christina would think, like, loving thoughts of me, I could change?"

"Exactly," said Jim, falling back against the couch. "You have to think those thoughts, too," he continued.

Christina smiled her approval. "The wonderful thing about this theorem," interrupted Christina, "is that even if we only practice sporadically, miracles still happen. But on the other hand, the more of those five ways of thinking are present, the faster and bigger the miracles are. We have been practicing ourselves. The good news is it works!" she giggled excitedly.

"And we want to share this with you," continued Jim quietly.

Patricia sat very still. "I don't think you guys are loonies. So I've decided I'm going to trust you and your theory."

"Wonderful," Christina clapped her hands. "You've already begun by telling the truth of how you feel and what you want. Do you know most people are afraid to tell the truth for fear of something awful happening? The funny thing is that just the reverse is true. When you tell the truth, space opens up for more miracles."

"What we would like you to do, Patricia, is to start talking to people and telling them how you feel. There is a proper way to do that. It starts with 'I'. 'I want', 'I like', 'I don't like', 'I'm feeling.. and so on. Also you must not blame others. And use kindness when you talk about your feelings. Be like a reporter with what's going on inside you." Jim grinned.

"Yes, like here's my latest newsflash! I'm so excited I could burst!" exclaimed Christina.

"I'm afraid right now," stated Patricia haltingly.

"Good work!" said Christina as she hugged Patricia.

Patricia practiced telling her truth. Every other day she came to Jim's and Christina's house for dinner. She talked about her experiences of telling her truth. She practiced with people at work, the checker at the grocery store, the man who fixed her car.

"I'm still afraid of talking to my Mom and Dad this way," Patricia said.

"That's okay for now," replied Jim, "No need to rush. Parents are like final exams anyway. And you're just beginning the class."

Jim and Christina encouraged her and applauded her successes and failures.

"Sweetie, you are just practicing," Christina explained. "Your practice is wonderful."

After a few weeks of practice, Patricia thought she was ready for something new.

One night at dinner she brought it up. "I'm ready to try something else."

"Alright," said Jim. "I've noticed that you're taking better care of yourself now."

"No, I mean something to do."

"You are doing something. You've done your hair more attractively. You are beginning to groom yourself better. I also noticed that you got your shoe repaired."

"Thank you for noticing," replied Patricia. "I feel better about myself. I wanted to look better, too. You two always look so nice. I want to look nice, too. I haven't bought any new dresses but my old ones are starting to fit better."

"Hurray!" shouted Christina. "You must be losing weight."

The three of them jumped up from the table and did an impromptu group hug, laughing and giggling.

"The next practice is living in the present time," said Christina. "I want you to stop thinking about the past. If it's unpleasant, you can't change it. If it's a success, it's gone. All you have is now. And don't think about the future either. It hasn't happened yet and will probably not happen like you expect it to or worry about."

"How can I do that?" moaned Patricia.

"Every time you realize you are thinking about the past or future," informed Jim, "just shake your head! Then say, I am here in present time, until the thoughts go away."

Patricia went home and practiced. She started feeling more energetic. Her boss commented to Patricia that he liked having her around more. She didn't always seem morose.

Patricia reported her practicing and the results to Christina and Jim. They beamed big loving smiles and congratulated her for her willingness and courage to practice.

The next step Patricia embarked upon was forgiveness. She found that this brought up forgotten feelings, hurts and resentments.

Yet Jim and Christina were always encouraging.

Patricia determinedly worked on. By this time she had lost two dress sizes.

One day when she was at her job Patricia worked on forgiving her Dad, who had died when she was two year old, abandoning her to the care a vicious, fault finding mother. When Patricia felt the emotions regarding her dad, she went to the ladies' room and cried. When she was done, though, she felt lots better. She looked in the mirror, "I even look prettier," and she smiled at her reflection. Later that same day, Joe from the shipping department asked Patricia out on a date.

"Can you believe that?" Patricia gasped. She was once again sitting at Jim and Christina's dinner table, relating her successes.

"Of course we can darling. You make room for more love when you get rid of bitterness, hatred and resentment," said Christina softly.

"Oh," replied Patricia.

"And speaking of love," Jim added. "Your next assignment is learning unconditional love."

"What is that? I know what love is, but what is unconditional love?"

"Unconditional means exactly that, to love with no conditions, limits, or judgments. To see a person as perfect, whole, divine. And to treat the person that way. As the Bible says, 'Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.' Treat them with the kind of love that you also want for yourself."

So Patricia continued her class in life, seeing others lovingly and treating them accordingly. Sometimes she would have difficulty loving someone who seemed very unlovable, angry, hostile or distant.

Jim reminded her. "Everyone is worthy of love. Remember how you were only a few short months ago. You were worthy of love."

Patricia smiled happily, noticing the miraculous changes that were taking place in her and her life.

"Don't forget to unconditionally love yourself," Christina reminded her. "If you don't love yourself, it is difficult to truly love others. Be nice to yourself. Treat yourself well. Do nice things for yourself. Take yourself out to play. Speaking of playing, how is your boyfriend Joe?"

Patricia blushed. "This is all so new to me. Joe says he loves me. All I know is I'm happy. I'm not lonely any more with you and Jim and Joe in my life."

She spent less and less nights at their house. Jim and Christina understood. They knew it was the perfect shift of circumstances. Patricia needed to have a life of her own.

One Tuesday night when Joe worked late, Patricia came over for dinner. She sparkled with happiness.

Jim began talking. "There is one last step in the process and then you will know the theory completely. That is called surrender. Surrender means to let go of what you have in order to fully have it, or something better. If you stay attached, and worry about losing Joe, or us, or your happiness, or your new found health, you will lose it. You must learn that everything is a lesson. No one and nothing is owned by you, not even your life. Everything is fleeting and will stay only as long as it is supposed to. This lesson may be the hardest of all, because it may seem like you have to give everything up."

"Think of surrender as a butterfly," said Christina. "A beautiful butterfly delicately perched on your open hand. If you start to close your hand, the butterfly will flutter away. Grasp it and its beauty will be crushed. But stand with an open hand and it will stay until it is time for it to fly away."

"I think I understand," said Patricia. "I will practice."

In the weeks that passed, Patricia hardly called Jim and Christina. Her own life was full.

She had now lost one hundred pounds. Her boyfriend Joe proposed to her, and they got busy planning a small wedding. Patricia's natural beauty was enhanced by several visits to make-up and fashion consultants. She also got a more stylish hairdo. She received a promotion to a new job including a substantial raise in her company. She glowed with happiness and contentment.

She decided to call the therapist Dr. Swenson, who had first recommended Christina, to thank him. When she typed in his number, she got a recording, "This number is no longer in service. And there is no new number."

"Huh." she said. "That's odd."

She opened her mail. There was a note from Jim and Christina:

Sweetie.

Haven't talked to you in a long time. We guess that means you are happy and content. Thank you for being part of our family. Remember miracles = the energy of people who surrender, tell the truth, live today, forgive and unconditionally love themselves and others. We are so proud of you and all that you have accomplished. You are a miracle.

Love Forever,

Jim and Christina

The letter touched Patricia's heart tremendously. She leaned against her dining room chair, astounded. How they loved her! How they had helped her. They were an example of their own theory.

She opened her cellphone and selected their number. She got the same recording as Dr. Swenson.

"This number is no longer in service. And there is no new number."

"Something is strange," she mumbled.

She got out her car keys and went to her car. Then drove over to the Dahl's home. When she got there, their house wasn't around. All Patricia found was an empty lot with a tiny dilapidated church on the property.

She knocked on the door of the house next door. "What happened to the people at 717?" she asked frantically. "Jim and Christina Dahl."

"No one lives there," said the man who answered the door. "The church has been deserted for years. Sorry I can't help you."

Patricia walked over to the boarded-up church. It had a small sign in front, the paint peeling off. On it was printed the words:

Expect a Miracle!

# AUTHORS NOTE

#

Dearest Reader--

Thanks so much for reading this book and sharing my fairy tales. If you enjoyed it, would you please take a moment to leave me a review at your favorite retailer?

Blessings,

Lauren O. Thyme

# WHO IS LAUREN O. THYME?

#

At the tender age of five, Lauren experienced a near-death experience. When she came out of her coma, she could then see and hear her Council of Elders (a group of ascended masters who advise, teach and nurture her) and became clairvoyant, clairsentient, clairaudient, mediumistic, and pre-cognitive.

Lauren remembers 97 past lives in detail, including identifying people she meets and what their relationship was in one or more past lives. She's also a "psychic battery" who can both intuit others' past lives as well as to help them remember their own on journeys she leads on the River of Time.

Lauren O. Thyme started doing psychic and spiritual readings at the age of 15. She has now done readings for the last 55 years. She has studied and practiced astrology for 46 years.

Ms. Thyme graduated with a B.S. in Psychology from Sierra University in 1988. Afterwards she studied with Dr. Joshua David Stone for a year while working on an internship to become a MFC counselor.

Lauren studied with High Priest of Sekhmet, Peter Paddon, and was ordained as Priestess of Hathor through the Fellowship of Isis. Lauren created her own Egyptian Lyceum (school) of Hathor, Sekhmet, and Anubis, and continued her studies of ancient Egyptian Mystery School. She visited Egypt three times, the last time while leading her own metaphysical tour. Four past lifetimes in Egypt included being an initiate, twice a Priestess, as well as a High Priestess of Hathor, all at Dendera Temple, Egypt.

In 1996 Lauren had a major transformational experience and was gifted with a new birthday and birth chart. After that Lauren was drawn to travel internationally, visiting sacred sites and writing/publishing articles based on her experiences there. She created a website, TimeTravel.com to freely promote metaphysical tours offered by 106 tour companies. She created The Egypt Store and sold Egyptian reproductions at psychic fairs, on the internet, through her online store, and through Ebay.

Lauren practiced organic gardening for over 30 years, then moved to Whidbey Island, Washington in 2004 and bought/operated a permaculture farm for seven years.

Lauren has two children and two grandchildren. She currently lives in Santa Fe, New Mexico.

# MORE FROM LAUREN O. THYME

_Alternatives for Everyone: A Guide to Alternative Health Care_

_The Lemurian Way: Remembering Your Essential Nature_ (with Sareya Orion)

_Forgiveness Equals Fortune_ (Liah Holtzman with Lauren O. Thyme)

_Along the Nile,_ a novel set in pre-dynastic Egypt

_From the Depths of Thyme: Life, Sex and Transformation_ , a book of poetry

_Cosmic Grandma Wisdom_ , a collection of Lauren's spiritual and metaphysical essays

_Strangers in Paradise_ , a novel of reincarnation and forgiveness

_Twin Souls: A Karmic Love Story_ , a novel
