The joy on The Child’s face as she stepped onto Lily Pad displayed how much she had missed her traveling friend. She sat down in the middle of the pad, marveling over its freshness.
“She hasn’t aged, Prophet?”
“Why do you say that, Child?”
“Because she looks younger.”
“Think so?”
“Yes. Don’t you?”
“I think it’s time for us to go.”
“Is Mr. Raccoon going with us too?”
“Part of the way. We’ll drop him off.”
“Why can’t he go with us?”
“Thought he roared at you.”
“That doesn’t mean I want him to go away.”
“Oh.”
“Prophet?”
“Yes, Child.”
“Can he stay?”
“No, he must leave you for a while.”
Mr. Raccoon sat regarding The Child with sadness.
“Child, I need the ground under my feet. A cozy cave or nice hollow tree is my way of living.”
“Mr. Raccoon, I want you here.”
“Why?”
“The more, the merrier.”
“Oh dear Child, you’ll never reach your destiny trying to take everyone with you. Goodbyes open doors.”
“What if I don’t want to say goodbye?”
“Then, you’ll miss some precious moments that will never happen. So stop crying. I’m not gone yet,” said Mr. Raccoon.
The Prophet guided Lily Pad out of the cove. Now into the wide opened space, Lily Pad moved with the fast moving current. Suddenly, the water current slowed down, and Lily Pad stopped.
“Say goodbye to Mr. Raccoon, Child.”
“I hate goodbyes.”
“I’ll see you again,” Mr. Raccoon said.
The Child cried; Mr. Raccoon walked away. The pain of loss weakened her fortitude to continue on.
“Child?”
“Yes, Prophet?”
“What shall it be, to go further or stay here? The choice is yours.”
“To go, Prophet.”
“Why?”
Shalom Aleichem,
Pat Garcia
