milk getting hot on the stove, her mother took a seat beside Kristen.
“Sweetheart, I want to talk with you about something.”
“What is it? Is it about the presents again, the ones we can’t get, because of Dad’s work?”
“Yes – that - and there was another thing.”
“I know you and Dad can’t get me everything I asked for. You already told me all this.” Kristen thought a moment. “Maybe I just asked for too much this year.”
Kristen’s mother smiled at her daughter, a proud smile for her child’s wisdom. “No doubt about it, you are growing up, young lady. Things are not going well for us, and you understand our situation. We talked about how your dad is losing his job at the end of next month (It had to be at Christmas, of all times.), and that life will be a little different until he finds something new.”
“Yes, Mom.”
“As you know, it’s been difficult for him the last six months.”
“But I don’t understand why he spends so much time at the office if that place is going away soon.”
Kristen’s mother thought for a moment. “Yes, it’s not easy to explain why people must work harder than before, even when the business is closing for good. I suppose you could say that they – the workers who are left – try to help the company survive, but sometimes even your best isn’t good enough, and there’s nothing one person can do about it. And now, your dad will need to start over and find something new.”
“Is it hard to do? This ‘start over’ thing?”
“It can be. Honey, all I can say is that we need to be patient and loving with your father right now. He’ll need all the support we have to give, okay?”
“He’ll be fine, Mom. Dad is very strong. And when other people see how he’s not a quitter and that he works hard even when things look bad…”
“You really do understand.” She wrapped an arm around her daughter. “That is so right, Kristen. Anyway, you know we are going to see Grandpa and Grandma for Christmas. You always enjoy that, don’t you?”
“I do love running around that big old house. I remember when I was little – you know, five or so? Back then I thought that house was so spooky, mostly at night when it was dark, and I thought I could hear it actually screech and moan, and I pretended there were ghosts and stuff in the house.”
“Especially the time we went there at Halloween.”
“Oh yeah, Mom. I still get shivers thinking about that year. But now that I think about it, there are just so many rooms to play and hide. I always like going there anyway. And Grandpa and Grandma are fun people, not like some of the other grandparents I hear about at school. Katie tells me hers are old, and they smell funny.”
“Now that’s not a very kind thing to say about older people. Sometimes they just can’t help it. It’s part of being old. So you girls must show a little respect.”
“Well anyway, Grandma and Grandpa aren’t like that at all.”
“I’m certain they’ll be glad to hear that. Actually, it’s good you feel that way because I talked to Grandma on Sunday and I asked if it would be okay for you to stay with them for a few days after Christmas.”
“Uh, Mom? Why is that?” Kristen asked, startled by her mother’s request to Grandma.
“It has to do with your dad’s job hunting we must do over the holidays. He needs to be looking for a new place to work, and we’ll be traveling around a bit to see what he can find.”
Many nights, at dinner, Kristen’s parents talked a lot about her dad’s work, and how things might change for the Marsh family. But when it becomes a ‘definite’, and not just a ‘might be’, more and more questions popped into Kristen’s young mind.
“Will it mean we won’t be able to live here in this house any more?”
“Let’s hope we won’t need to move away. If your dad isn’t working for a while, he’ll be getting a little money, something called unemployment compensation. This will help to pay the bills and put food on the table. And I still have my books to help make us some money to keep our home.”
Kristen loved to read the books her mother wrote, the ones that said ‘Written by Andrea Marsh’ on the cover. The stories were about Gretchen, a girl who went off on exciting adventures because of the dreams she had (a girl so much like herself). And her mother got money every few months for writing these thrilling stories, something she called a royalty check. Mom was always excited when one of these checks arrived, and she took them to the bank quickly, to get money for the family.
“Maybe I should just stay here instead.”
Kristen’s mother smiled. “I’m sure there’s a lot you could do to help your father, but I don’t think it would be much fun for you. So I asked Grandma if you could stay with them for part of your Christmas vacation. They don’t get the chance to keep you these days with school and all.”
“But Mom…what about Katie and all my friends? We had all these plans for things to do when I got back – right after Christmas – like sleepovers, and stuff.”
“It will just have to wait a few days, that’s all. What’s so difficult about that?”
“But I told Katie…,” she began to wail.
“C’mon now…no whining. Please don’t make this difficult.”
“But…but what if I have ‘problems’? The dreams, you know. Stuff like that?”
Andrea Marsh thought for a moment. What could she tell her daughter?
“Oh Kristen…your grandmother will understand perfectly. Don’t give it another thought.”
Perfectly? Why could she understand so perfectly?
CHAPTER 2: KRISTEN’S GIFT
You see, Kristen has dreams. Not the usual dreams that ten-year-olds have, but dreams that bring meaning, that solve problems - dreams that explain things around her. And sometimes the dreams come about by the things she touches while she’s asleep It’s been going on for several years, but it wasn’t until that sleep-over party at Katie’s house, in the fall of this year, that others became aware of her gift as well.
It was all very simple enough. Kristen and a few other classmates were settled in by the fireplace for the night, snuggled in their sleeping bags. Kristen nodded off for a while, gently hugging Katie’s cat friend Wanda. She is a beautiful animal with a coat of golden brown hair - like straw in the Rumpelstilskin fairy tale. Kristen stirred from her sleep a half hour later, to see that her friend was crying.
“Geez, Katie…what’s wrong?”
“It’s Cindy,” her friend sobbed. “You remember, my other cat. She slipped out the door this morning, and we haven’t seen her since. And now, I just started to think about her again, and I can’t sleep.”
“You
