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The cub sat in a quiet corner of the grand hall of the den,
watching the play of starlight on the trees and snow beyond.
The holidays were fast upon them, and while most in the den
had written their holiday wishes upon their hearts, the cub
was still searching for the perfect holiday wish. So many so
much wiser, having all the right words - what gift could she
hope to form that would not seem small and trivial or that
was not already written?
The cub had come upon the den while wandering, not really
searching for a place, and had found a warm welcome and love
that was hard to find in the world beyond, and so little was
asked in return - only that she care. Care she understood -
that was easy. Reaching out to offer care to others was a
given, for she understood their pain - she could feel it,
see the colors it painted upon their souls and knew some of
how to ease those colors. Perhaps her wish could be care?
But all in the den knew how to care - that would not do she
thought - no - it must be a special gift.
She allowed her mind to wander, the wonders she had seen -
could she wish them joy? No, they knew joy - it came in fur,
feathers, scales, and fins, with cold noses and wet sloppy
kisses.
Perhaps she could wish them love? No, all knew great love
past and within the den - and shared that love freely with
all who needed.
Should she perhaps wish them hope? No that would not do -
for hope was the soft warm light that lit the den.
As night gave way to dawn, light broke upon the snow filling
the den with millions of tiny rainbows - beautiful symbols
of all the den held dear.
Slowly an idea blossomed. I know my wish the cub smiled.
(c) Candace |
