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Snowflake Kitten

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By Rachel H Grant

The fire crackled like an old crone, welcoming Christmas like a long-lost friend.

A white kitten stretched out on the red rug, purring in a warm bath of bliss. Her new home was a Christmas dream come true. The runt of the litter, no one wanted her, until a small child’s hands picked her up and a tiny voice whispered, “This is all I want for Christmas.”

white kitten lying on its back with big amber eyes
Image by Pexels from Pixabay

On her third night in the new house, the first snowflakes of winter kissed the land. Luna looked out the window longingly. When the father arrived home, she shot out the front door like a snowball on attack. Christmas cheer lit her heart, as snow froze her feet. She ran and ran through the snowflakes, until she became lost.

Luna never saw the house again. Until twenty years later …

**

Harry and Hetty giggled as they played hide and seek in their new house. A bedroom each, stairs to chase each other down … and numerous corners to hide in. It was a Christmas wish come true.

Meanwhile, Mum finished decorating the tree. “Children! Come and see!” she called.

They surveyed a Christmas carol in frozen motion, a dream of delight purring in their head like a happy cat. Then Mum lit the fire, and they settled on the hearth to play Christmas card games.

They did not see the baubles move on the tree, as though a kitten were playing with them. They did not notice the kitten prints on the windows, as a stray soul regarded the snowflakes outside. Little did they know, that they were not alone.

Luna slept that night on Hetty’s bed. The child turned over in her sleep, instinctively moving a hand towards the tiny unseen indent on the duvet. Then sweet dreams of white Christmas kittens stirred in her soul.

Luna wandered the house unseen. She was back, with a new family. Her dream had come true. She was home.

“I would love a kitten for Christmas,” confided Hetty to her Dad. “It would be a Christmas wish in fur, it would make me so happy.”

“Santa doesn’t deliver kittens,” said Dad with a twinkle in his eye.

Christmas Day dawned like a new winter future, a herald to happier days.  Hetty and Harry ran down the stairs like racing horses on a track, magic misting their eyes. Then they saw her.

A white kitten.

“It looks like Santa does believe in kittens after all,” said Dad merrily.

The children played all day with the new arrival, happiness like moving shadows around them, while Luna the real shadow purred with quiet joy at a new friend. Klaus the kitten could see Luna, and telepathically talk with her. They were friends in no time.

That night, a large white cat appeared on the stairs, a red hat on her head. She found Klaus and her shadow Luna.

“I have come to take you to a new Christmas house,” she gently told Luna. “There is a new kitten here now and it is your time, a playful paradise awaits. Leave Klaus to the humans here, come with me now … “

Luna meowed silently. “I love it here. It is my home.”

“No, it is Klaus’ home. However there is a fireplace in my world just for you.”

So Luna quietly followed the white cat up the stairs, as a portal of white light opened above them. “It looks like a large snowflake,” thought Luna wistfully.

Then they were there, in a large house with a grand sitting-room, and a festive fire in ferocious glory. And there were other cats too … why, it was her mother and her siblings! Luna ran to greet them, a melting meow of love in her heart.

The large white cat silently left.

“Where are we?” asked Luna.

“We are in the land of feline dreams,” confided her mother. “We are in the happy ending that we all deserve. However, one day, if you choose, you can be born again and return. Or simply stay here … it is so nice, a dream of paradise that can never end.”

Luna rubbed around her mum, and curled in to her body as she fell asleep. And in her dreams, a hundred fireplaces burned, happy cats in front of them all.

However, the day came when she dreamt once more of the children in her old and real house. How she wished to return … snowflakes hung in her heart like a frozen dream waiting to melt.

A year later, Hetty and Harry again awoke on Christmas morning with excitement etched on their faces like indelible glee. They raced downstairs. Klaus met them, a knowing smile in his eyes. He ran to the front door, scratching frantically, maniac meows in his throat.

Harry laughed. “Ok Klaus, out you go.” He opened the door, staring in Christmas sparkled surprise.

A white kitten trembled in the snow. Harry swept her in to his arms, while the kitten purred, eyes shimmering with Christmas fire.

Hetty rushed up. “Another white kitten! It is my Christmas dream come true!”

Their parents did try to find the kitten’s home, but none emerged. “Let’s call her Snowflake,” said Hetty. “Because she has flown in to our lives like a snowflake from heaven.”

Little did they know, that the white kitten had lived before. Little did they know, that they were her Christmas wish come true. However somewhere in their hearts, the children did understand that cats have nine lives.

Hetty, Harry, Klaus and Snowflake became inseparable friends. As January blizzards battered the house, they lay by the fire, encased in the poem of purrs.

For every cat deserves a second chance, a new home that saves them from the cold. May all your Christmases be filled with the wonder and joy of a festive kitten, and may the purrs of happiness soothe your mind forever. And may all snowflakes find their way home.

Two white kittens sitting on wood, one is double the size of the other
Image by Veronica Kaiser from Pixabay

Snowdrop Kitten

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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