When Sarah awoke she could smell the pancakes from the top of the stairs.

“Oh, they are divine!,” she said.

Her mother responded, “Just the way you like, Sarah. They are extra fluffy with plenty of butter and maple syrup.”

After breakfast her mother asked Sarah which earrings she should wear: the light green or the black and white. Such decisions were usually her husband’s job, although he’d always say, “the first ones.” To men, such questions do not have a logical answer since the woman will wear what she wants. Why then she asks the man’s opinion is a mystery.

Sarah replied, “Light green.”

That was good enough for mother. Her mother was walking around the house, fiddling with her hat. “Sarah, did you leave a little milk on the porch for the cat?”

“Yes, ma’am, but I don’t think she drank a drop. Do you think she had the kittens?”

“She could’ve. She has been sniffing around the barn for a birthing place all week. Initially, Sarafina wanted to have them in the parlor, next to the fireplace. I wouldn’t hear of it. An outdoor cat belongs outdoors. I don’t know why she can’t just be happy with her status.”

They walked to church because the weather was pleasantly warm, unusual for an April morning. Sarah saw Emily talking with a couple of the other girls outside. Not much good gossip this week, nothing scandalous, but Emily did hear that Kevin Hines, the preacher’s son, was back for the summer.

Kevin attended a preaching school in Scobey. He was very handsome but he was two years older than Sarah, so off limits. As they got older, however, new frontiers would open. It was generally accepted in Eagle Creek that a young lady would not be courted by a young man until she was sixteen. In many parts of the country, women were having their second baby at sixteen, but not in Eagle Creek.

As the clutch of young pullets were chatting, Sarah’s mother appeared at the top of the steps of the church building,

“Sarah?” she said as she made the “come-here” signal with her right index finger.

Sarah gave Emily the “what did I do now?” look.

Emily shrugged her shoulders. Since her mother was smiling, she reasoned that it couldn’t be that awful.

“Sarah, April has the flu and is unable to teach the primary Sunday school class. I told Sam that you’d be happy to do it.”

Sarah looked to Emily and then to her mother. Sarah wanted to sit in the high school class with her friends. “But, I am not prepared,” she whined, hoping to escape the duty.

“Sarah, you are the most eloquent of your peers, the children know you and respect you.”

Sarah was frustrated that her mother wasn’t listening. “But….”

“Sarah.” Her mother was polite but firm. “Remember, ‘clean your room before you leave for Emily’s’?”

Sarah rocked side to side; there was no sense in arguing.

“Fine,” she knew her mother was right, even when the circumstances did not seem fair.

“Sarah,” preacher Sam walked over and stuck out his hand, “Good morning. Thank you so much for volunteering to teach. I think they were reading Daniel.”

Sarah muttered to herself, “And I am the one stuck in the lion’s den.” She rolled her eyes at Emily, who had got the idea that she was being “volunteered” for teaching. She would be missing out on the joy of sitting with her peers; such was the woe of an adequate replacement.

Sarah nervously opened the squeaky door to the small classroom. Only one little girl was in the room, swinging her legs in a chair far too big for a six-year-old. “Hello, Miss Sarah.” Her bright, cheery face, pink dress, green eyes and blonde hair made Sarah forget her disappointment.

“Hello Jamie. It looks like you are the only one so far.”

Jamie nodded her head and continued looking around the room.

Sarah knelt on one knee in front of her.

“Would you like to help me place construction paper on the table?”

Jamie smiled, the joy of a shared assignment and responsibility can be quite a treat for the youngest among us.

Sarah gave her a small stack of papers and she began placing them on the table. Sarah sat in the adult’s chair and opened her Bible to Daniel. “Let’s see,” she thumbed through the pages, “Chapter Six, the Lion’s Den.”

“That sounds scary,” Jamie said.

Sarah smiled at her innocence and replied, “Well, we’ll have to read it and find out.” Other children began to file into the room.

“Good morning, Albert, Thomas, Martin, Becky and Maggie.” Becky and Maggie were twins so they replied in unison, “Good morning.”

She continued, “Seymour! Joshua! No frogs Joshua! Go outside and put him in the creek this instant.”

Mr. Hall, one of the elders saw the exchange, “I got him.”

He picked up the small framed six-year-old with one arm. He was trying to keep from laughing. He was stoic when the situation required it, but the sheer madness of the moment was entertaining. “Boy, you have more brave than smarts.” The children found their chairs.

“Ahem,” was enough to quite them. “Your regular teacher is not feeling well this morning. I will teach you today. We are going to learn about Daniel in the Lion’s Den. But first we will pray for Miss April and make cards for her.”

“Miss Sarah, Miss Sarah?” Jamie was urgent, her hand furiously shooting up and down.

“Yes, Jamie.”

“Can we pray for my Grandma?”

“Of course. Is she ill?”

“No, but she is very old.”

Sarah broke a smile. “Then we will pray for her as well. Now everyone put your hands together.…”

“Miss Sarah, Miss Sarah?”

“Yes, Albert?”

“Can we pray for the president?”

“Absolutely, we are commanded in Romans to pray for our leaders.” Sarah adjusted her seat and folded her hands. “Now close your eyes, Our Father...”

“Miss Sarah, Miss Sarah?”

“Yes, Seymour…”

“I’m invisible.” The class erupted in laughter.

“Seymour, I can clearly see you. You are not invisible.”

“If I were, would you pray for me?” He seemed intent.

Sarah’s eyes bulged, she was speechless. She took a moment to noodle the idea and replied with a smile, “I am not sure if invisibility qualifies as an ailment. But rest assured, the Lord sees all of us, even when we hide.” Sarah instinctually knew that the prayer was bound to be interrupted one more time at the very least. Such delays would exasperate some but her theology was this: penguins prove that God has a sense of humor. “All right then, Our Father which art...”

“Miss Sarah, Miss Sarah!” Joshua said as he stood in the doorway. “Yes, Joshua.”

“Pray for the frog.” The class erupted once more.

Sarah rubbed her forehead and asked, rather reluctantly, “Joshua?”

The lad seemed truly concerned. “He doesn’t know which way his home is; he’s just a frog! He’s a good frog who deserves a muddy pond where he can eat flies and croak and make friends just like everyone else.”

Sarah was giggling. “Yes, I suppose we all deserve a muddy pond of our own.”

Joshua took his seat.

“Ok, once again, we fold our hands and close our eyes.” The class followed suit.

“Our Father which art in Heaven, Hallowed be Thy Name. We thank Thee for this beautiful day and for the many bright faces we see. We ask that you be with Miss April that she may soon be well. We ask that you be with Jamie’s grandmother. She is a widow, Lord, and she holds a special place in Jamie’s heart. We ask that you be with the President of the United States of America. Grant him wisdom and safety. Be with all those who stand in harm’s way to keep our nation free. Father we know that you always watch over us; please forgive us when we sin.”

“Andy! Andy!” Joshua whispered to Sarah.

“Andy? Oh, the frog was named Andy?”

“Uh huh”

“Of course, And Lord, we ask that Andy the frog may find a new home. Oh, I almost forgot, please be with my cat, Sarafina, who might be having her kittens today. In Jesus Name we pray, Amen.”

The little ones were smiling.

“Best prayer ever!” Jamie said.

“Thank you. I trust God will feel the same.”

The class went rather swimmingly. The children made cards for Miss April which they colored with crayons. The name “April” was spelled about six different ways, but it’s the thought that counts.

As the class dismissed and Sarah gathered the cards, Joshua hugged her knee and said, “Thank you for listening.”

Sarah patted his head and replied, “Any time, Joshua, any time.”

After worship Sarah and her mother walked home. Sarah regaled her with an account of the class, including Joshua’s frog. As they drew closer to the house, Sarah briefly scanned the yard; no sign of Sarafina.

After lunch, Sarah and her mother sat on the front porch, enjoying the afternoon breeze. Her mother was on the big red rocking chair. Sarah sat on the steps. Sarah looked for shapes in the clouds and made up stories to fit the mold.

A hungry lion, roaring, salivating, awaiting the opportunity to strike at the prophet Daniel. Slowly its mouth closes, no dinner today but maybe a rub on the belly from the nice old Hebrew.

A delicate swan! It catches the wind and soars through the sky on snowy wings.

A smiling face as if Providence itself is enjoying the day. Father would be home soon. Any minute, Sarah would receive word that she is, for all intents and purposes, a Grandmother-Cat.

"Sarah!" her mother exclaimed, her right hand pointing to the barn. A small, roly-poly dark figure, low to the ground was approaching post haste. Was it Sarafina? It got closer. "...Sarafina!" Sarah was elated.

Paula said excitedly, “She has a kitten in her mouth!” She got out of the red rocking chair and sat down next to Sarah on the steps.

The pudgy cat made her way past the flower box and headed straight to their feet. The kitten in her mouth was stretching its arms and legs, still attempting to understand via touch this strange new universe. Sarafina looked at both of her human companions and carefully placed the tiny kitten with auburn fur at their feet.

Although there is normally a significant gap in the particulars between cross species communication, the two women understood that “meow” in this case translated to, "Isn't she a wonderful kitten?"

Sarafina gave the newborn a couple of licks on the head. Sarah slowly picked it up and placed it in her lap. The cat, twisted in jubilation and a Divine sense of pride. She meowed, “There are more where that came from.”

Sarafina scampered back to the barn. Soon Paula and Sarah were taking care of another kitten a calico. A black one soon was placed in the kitten pile. Sarafina licked each of her babies on the head and purred loudly. She rubbed against Sarah’s legs and then Paula’s. Sarafina stepped away for a moment. She meowed, a softer tone and then headed back to the barn.

When Sarafina returned she had a gray kitten clinched in her teeth. Sarah and her mother did not notice it at first; they were too enthralled with the three additions to the Conrad family.

“Meow… meow!” Sarafina demand their attention. They looked up. She stood there with the kitten in her mouth. She seemed forlorn. Sarafina gently placed the fragile, gray kitten in the flower box. She did not look back but stayed focused on the remaining three in Sarah’s lap. She walked steadily to her newborns.

“Mother, is Sarafina abandoning that kitten?”

“That’s what it looks like.”

“But why did she leave it in the flower box? She even meowed to get our attention; she wanted to make sure we knew where the kitten was placed.”

Paula was just as bewildered.

Sarafina returned to dote on her kittens. Sarah’s mother transferred two to her own lap; Sarafina picked up a third and began to lick its feet. Sarah got up and walked over to the flower box. The little gray kitten was squirming, searching for a nipple and the warmth that only a momma could provide. Its mouth opened and shut frantically, not even a squeak came out.

Sarah picked up the kitten and placed it to her cheek. The kitten licked it, hoping it was Sarafina’s belly. Sarah gingerly walked the kitten over to Sarafina, who now lay on the ground and nursing the brood. Sarah lowered the kitten to let Sarafina sniff it. She refused. Sarah tried again, but Sarafina rebuffed her attempted to advance. “Sarah,” her mother stuck out her hand, “Sweetheart, Sarafina must have her reasons.”

Sarah was in tears. "Mom...?"

“I’m sorry, honey. Sarafina knows what she’s doing.” Sarah’s mother sat down on the ground and began to stroke the nursing, exhausted feline.

Sarah was disappointed. “I can’t let this happen!”

Paula interrupted her, “Sarah, it already has happened.”

“No! No! No!” Sarah turned around and went into her room. She placed the kitten on her bed and searched in her closet for a small, soft sock-puppet she’d received from her father when she was six years old. “Found it.”

The kitten was trembling, groping in the dark for its mother. “Come here you.” Sarah picked up the pitiful creature and used the puppet to give it some warmth and at least a semblance of fur.

The kitten cried ever louder, it was desperate. “Hush little baby, don’t say a word. Momma’s gonna buy you a mocking bird. Hey, a mocking bird sounds yummy.” The kitten was shaking like a tree in a gale. “Your mother killed a mocking bird last year, she’ll teach you how to do the same; I just know she will.” Sarah held the kitten close and walked downstairs to the kitchen. She got some milk from the ice box and poured it in a cup. She found a teaspoon and tried to place some nourishment in the kitten’s mouth. “There you go. No need to cry now. Everything is going to be just….” The kitten stopped moving. Sarah placed it on the kitchen table.

Growing up in farm country, Sarah was familiar with death. Grandma Jenny had died. Cheryl Cobblestone’s baby caught a cough and it didn’t make it. But all of those others were, in a way, distant. This was the first time someone died while she watched.

The world got quiet. Still. The breeze ceased. The birds hushed their singing. All she could hear were her own sniffles. She wiped her eyes. “But, I never even gave you a name.” Her face was grim. "You could've made it. I could have done something. I... I... I...." She wiped her nose with a napkin.

She leaned her head on the table; she was eye to eye with the lifeless kitten. “I thought I could help. Why else would she have placed you where I could find you?” Sarah closed her eyes and softly said to herself, “But there is something going on here, a perilous play called ‘Life’ and, well, there is only one act. It is a comedy. It is a tragedy. It is an adventure. The grand Author has ordained his characters to move briskly on and off the stage, to speak their lines and make an exit. Your role, little bit, was played most magnificently.”

Sarah opened her eyes. She had stopped crying.

She went to the screen door. Her mother looked up quizzically. Sarah shook her head. “She didn’t make it.”

Paula understood Sarah’s sorrow but someone needed to stay with the kittens. Sarah wrapped Little Bit in a napkin and buried him in a shallow grave on a hill overlooking the barn. She placed a daisy on the freshly upturned dirt. “Good bye” she whispered, “Good bye.” She made her way back down to the house.

"Sarah, are you ok?"

"I am mother," she replied with growing confidence, "I am. Now then, how are Faith, Hope and Charity?"

Her mother replied with a smile, "Faith, Hope, and Charity? Well, why not? I've always liked 1 Corinthians chapter thirteen."

Sarafina meowed her approval, "I like those names too."