I came across a real character the other day.  A wise old woman named
Kellie.  She didn't act old though.  When I say old, I mean she was very
old on earth.  But not here.  Up here it's like she is young.  So young
Kellie was showing her sock baby around the sites of the bridge still
when I came to check on her.  I asked her if she had shown her sock baby
the shoots adn ladders.  Yes.  Had she shown it the clouds.  Yes.  Had
she walked it through the meadow.  Yes.  Had she taken it to a baseball
game.  Yes.  Had she been to sofa world.  Yes.  Had she found a nice
sleep sack for the both of them.  Yes.  Had she been to dirt mountai,
yes.  Had she show it the big soup bowl (this was apparent from the
stains on the sock).  Yes.  Hmmm, I thought.  Then I asked if she had
shown the sock baby the brook where the mink play.  Nope.  So we went off
to the brook with the intent of giving the sock baby a bath.  When we got
there the mink were very friendly, but oh so busy catching their fish.
Kellie was leary of them anyway.  So as she was bathing her sock, some
kits happened by.  They asked her what she was doing and she ignored
them.  They got more curious, and asked if that was a sock.  She looked
at them from the corner of her eye, but didn't answer.  Then the kits,
began telling her how cool her sock baby was.  One by one, they were
saying, "I want one!" I watched as Kellie was eyeing them more and more
and as a smile crept across her face.  "Having a sock baby is a very
large responsibility," she said to them as she carefully dried her sock.
"We can do it, I promise we can do it ... can't we have a sock baby too?"
they all chattered back.  I told her that it would mean so much to the
kits.  "Then they'll leave me alone?" she asked.  I said sure.  So off we
went to go find where all the socks are at the bridge.  I know the way,
but I found it interesting that she took the long way.  I found it more
interesting when she started looking for socks at the baseball field.
And then she had them sniffing through foamy frie forrest for them.
Finally, I took her aside and asked what she was doing.  She said that
this was the way to find the best socks.  I was doubtful.  Then I told
her that if it took much longer, the kits would loose interest and leave.
Ah.  That's it.  She wants them to leave.  But to my shock, her eyes
watered and she said, "Leave?" She didnt' want them to leave.  She
thought if she took forever to look for the sock babies, the kits would
be with her forever.  "Kellie, if you find them sock babies, they'll
always remember you and visit you.  Besides, it will take a very long
time to teach them how to care for the sock babies.  They'll stay with
you longer if you find the socks for them." I saw incredible joy in her
face.  Then she seriously took them to where socks could be found
directly from where we were.  I watched as this loner ferret took the
time to help each kit pick out a sock, name it, and take care of it.
 
Then she told stories about what she had done in her previous life time
with her sock.  She talked all about her last family.  Her home.  She
talked about the many treats they ate together, and how they listened to
the funny way her mother laughed.  And then she spoke of the wonderful
peaceful life she found in her last years.  I didn't need to give her a
message from her heartsick mommy.  Because it was like I was listening to
her mothers voice through her.  She was saying, word for word, everything
her mommy felt for her.  Everything she wanted to her to know.  Somehow,
we just know these things about those who love us sometimes.  This is one
of those times.
[Posted in FML issue 4981]