Snowdrop Kitten

Neville turned over in bed, his twelve year old brain spinning like an unoiled wheel. It was the dream again, the one where he painted a picture. He remembered the fun of mixing the paint, and the brush licking the canvas like a cat with cream … then the memory blurred, concealed behind a padlock in his mind.

Neville hated school, the thought of mixing with so many uncaring peers an unwelcome taste in his mouth each morning. Sometimes he skipped school, hanging out in the local park. The snowdrops there soothed his soul, tiny white stars of hope. A song stuttered in his heart, its words forgotten, dying somewhere deep inside.

Today, he noticed for the first time the snowdrops in his own garden, under the lone tree he loved to climb in the summer. White flowers nodded in the wind, sighing for spring. But what was that amongst them? A large white shape … he approached, and then gasped in joy. A pure white kitten lay in the flowers, wide eyed and shivering.

Their eyes met, and Neville read the small animal’s angst, a knife piercing his heart as he scooped her in to his arms.

a white kitten among trees
Image by Susann Mielke from Pixabay

Snowdrop became his cat. His mother advertised her locally and on social media, but much to Neville’s delight no owner came forward. Like a snowdrop petal on the wind, she had flown in to his life, a flower tonic for his heart.

Neville recalled his dream. He bought a canvas and began to paint. Joy seeded in his heart like a spring flower. Slowly, Snowdrop the kitten among the snowdrops took shape beneath his hands. A smile unfurled on his face like a snowdrop in the sun.

Eventually, Snowdrop’s portrait was complete. His mother enlisted it in a local art exhibition. Neville shivered in anticipation, fear and delight battling in his heart, his hands shaking like snowdrops in a spring breeze.

To Neville’s surprise satisfaction, his painting sold on the first day of the exhibition. Eighty year old Geoffrey placed his new piece of art above his fireplace. He gazed at the slim feline in the picture, and thought of his late wife. She had adored cats. He had not replaced the final feline to pass away. Without his wife, there was no joy in caring for pets.

However, the painting helped him feel close to her again. He smiled, then fell in to a dreamless sleep in front of his fire. He woke at midnight, confused. Where was he? Clumsily, he climbed the stairs to his bed.

In the morning, Geoffrey rose and as was his custom flung open the curtains, gazing at his forlorn uncared for garden. Snowdrops danced in the morning breeze. However there was something among them. Was it … a kitten?

Geoffrey ventured outside in his dressing gown. A small feline meowed, looking at him with deep emerald eyes.

Loved lanced his heart, a feeling he had not encountered for years. He did not even try to find an owner, the kitten was his. Geoffrey’s days bounced with meaning again, like a playful kitten. His eyes danced with delight as the small cat ran up and down his stairs, like a ghost of a happier past, or an angel of a better future. Life became enjoyable once more.

On the other side of town, Neville played with Snowdrop, and smiled. It was time to paint again. So he lifted his brush, as magic melted in the air. The future would be full of feline fun, days falling like dominoes towards a kitten fuelled destiny. For a cat’s love can last forever, staring out of a picture for all time.

Across town, seven year old Debbie had finished reading her book, “Sox the White Kitten.” She sighed, how she would love a little white kitten of her own. Somewhere, her dream was heard as paint licked a canvas like a hungry cat.

Geoffrey stared at the painting on his wall. The secret of art in his eyes, he stroked his kitten and sighed. He would call her Anne, after his wife. His door rattled in the wind, like a ghost trying to gain entrance. Then all was still, as silent as a sleeping kitten.

snowdrops against a white background
Image by Peggychoucair from Pixabay

Magic Kitten

Noah lay in bed, tears rolling down his cheeks, a heavy stone turning in his heart. This was his first Christmas without Cheetah, his much adored Bengal cat. He had written to Santa asking for a kitten, however his mother had informed him that Santa did not give out living animals as gifts, and in fact no one should, as Christmas gifts may end up in an animal shelter after only weeks or months. “A cat is for life, not just for Christmas,” she intoned solemnly. “Besides, we will get you a kitten in the spring.”

However for once in her life, his mother would be proved wrong.

Noah awoke to feel something moving next to him. He stifled a scream, his six year old body quivering, his ginger curls standing in electric shock.

Tentatively, he opened his eyes.

A white kitten lay curled up before him, deep yellow eyes begging him to play.

Noah giggled. Had Santa really brought him a kitten?

white kitten playing with a Santa hat
StockSnap on Pixabay

A piece of paper lay on his bedside table, with lyrical old-fashioned writing like a missive from the past. “Love him like a glittering jewel, his feline power is beyond priceless.”

And so began a fifteen year relationship of fun and frolics. He named the kitten Miracle, as that is what he was and always would be.

Noah’s Mum was speechless. Had her husband bought the kitten without telling her? However, she quickly resigned to the presence of the new feline.

Noah grew in confidence and hurtled feet first in to a new happiness. Miracle lit up his heart like an inner candle of joy. He began a new hobby, football, and in-between practice spent happy hours with his cat.

Little did he know, that Miracle really did suit his name. He was a magic cat, chosen by Santa just for Noah. Every time Miracle looked in to Noah’s eyes, he imparted deep and ancient wisdom. Noah grew in more than just size, as maturity and magic magnified his mind.

The football hobby eventually turned professional; Noah had realised his dream. However, the day after his first record-breaking goal, the sixteen year old Miracle died. He had delivered his mission; Miracle had helped Noah grow in to the man he was and the man he would become. Miracle had furnished a new future, just as Santa had hoped and had foreseen.

Noah became famous, a pin up poster boy for young teenage girls. At the pinnacle of the young man’s stardom, dark times threatened to devour the planet. War whispered on the horizon, world peace as frail as a one hundred year old piece of paper.

It was during this period that Noah delivered the speech of his life during a routine TV interview.

“I have a heart to hope, and a soul to cry. Let’s choose the tears of friendship, and scrub out sobs of war and terror. Let’s choose peace over war, let’s create a paradise not a graveyard. Let every man and child, everywhere, live to see the sunset rise again in the pinks and reds of a brave new dawn. Let’s leave our children a better, a safer, a more peaceful world. Let’s begin now. Alight the flames of love in your heart, look at your brothers and sisters, feel their pain, share their hopes and fears.  Remember we are one, one human race, one planet. The future is ours to set free. Set it free to be reborn like a phoenix from the flames, set it free to deliver happiness and health to all, set it free to pulse to the quiet drum of peace. Banish the dismal drums of war forever. The future is ours, it is ours to mould like clay, let’s become master potters and mould the world we really want to see. Let peace perfume our world, a fragrance for the future of all time. Let love light our souls. Let compassion calm our rage, and empathy erode our divisions. It is time to stand united. It is time to say, enough, no more. It is time to create a paradise right here on Earth.”

sunset over the sea
Public Domain Pictures on Pixabay

Noah’s speech went viral. His message struck a chord at the heart of each nation, and the people knew a fresh hope.

Father Christmas watched with a silent smile on his lips. He had chosen Noah well. Miracle had performed his purrful magic to perfection.

However there was no rest for Santa. It was time to choose a magic Christmas kitten for yet another child. Santa’s smile grew wider.

Charlie turned over in bed, excited for Christmas Day, wishing it were here already. As he closed his eyes, a whisker fell on his pillow. A ginger kitten sniffed his hair, and curled up in the arch of his legs. Charlie would awake to a new friend … and the world would one day know a new leader. A man with the love of a cat colouring his soul. A leader with the innate instinct of a cat, and with feline secrets in his heart.