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There wasn’t much running in the Silver City. Most of the occupants like to walk, slowly taking in the gorgeous scenery; residents tended to feel as though running might be discouraged, perhaps even frowned upon? Even the younger spirits who frolicked or skipped did so with an air of calmness, too in awe of their grandiose surroundings to scurry or dash.
That was not the case for the young child currently tearing through the rich green fields this morning, clapping her hands with glee as she trampled the grass underfoot.
The man seated on the blanket was her unsuspecting victim; one minute, he was watching the sun rise over the lake and sipping his morning tea, and the next, chubby toddler hands had closed over his eyes as she barreled into his back with enthusiasm.
“Geh whoooooo?” the girl sang out.
(Somehow, it had not quite occurred to her that playing Guess Who with a complete stranger somewhat defeated the purpose.)
The man, for his part, was delighted by the interruption; the giggles bubbling out behind him sounded better than any of the angelic choruses he had heard over the past few years.
“Hmm, I shall have to guess, won’t I?” he said, biting his lip and making a show of being confused. (Well. He was confused, in that he was fairly certain he didn’t know the child who was currently holding him hostage, but he wasn’t about to let that interrupt a decent game of Guess Who.) “Is it ... Father Christmas?”
The girl shrieked with laughter, barely able to shout out an emphatic “No!”
“Goodness,” the man said, shaking his head. “Then could it be ... the Princess Royal?”
More shrieks, this time, and the man knew how to bring this game to an end.
“Then I suppose it simply has to be ...” He abruptly whirled to face the girl, eyes flashing with amusement. “A monkey!!”
And with that, he scooped the child up into his arms, her reddish blonde curls bouncing as she squealed with joy.
A few moments later, a young woman appeared – surely no more than twenty, out of breath, and exasperated in that fond way that young mothers often are. “There you are,” she said.
“Mama,” the child shouted, pulling free from the man to open and close her tiny fists to her mother.
“I’m awful sorry –” the woman started, as she kneeled to embrace her daughter, but the man dismissed her concerns easily.
“Please, don’t be,” he said as he got to his feet. “Hullo, I’m Daniel.”
“Bridget,” the mother answered, “and this rascal here is Aoife.”
She pronounced it ee-fa, a name Dan wasn’t familiar with. Irish? She had a hint of a brogue in her speech. If this lady was from the Emerald Isle, they might have been neighbors in life. Granted, they had probably lived in differing centuries, but it still cheered him, to feel a connection to this stranger.
Bridget’s cheeks were flushed. “Always thought I’d name a girl Mary, for m’own mother,” she admitted, “and it’s a good, solid name. But she was always too excitable for that, right from her quickening. When they set her in my arms, I just knew.”
Aoife, for her part, was dotting her mother’s face with somewhat sticky kisses.
“I’m delighted to meet you both,” Dan said, offering mother and child each a bow. It was only proper, when one met a lady. “She’s a lovely child.”
Bridget’s blush deepened, but she managed a quick bob of a curtsy in return. “She’s a handful, at times. But she’s the best thing what’s ever happened to me.”
“I know precisely what you mean,” Dan laughed. “I have one myself, just a little older.”
Were Dan anywhere else, he would feel a deep, exquisite ache at the separation from his own daughter, but such painful feelings were always dampened here in the Silver City. It was instead a wistful sort of longing, a nostalgia, tempered by the knowledge that one day he would see his Beatrice again.
“Can you thank the nice man, sweetling?” Bridget asked, and Aoife mumbled something that was quite possibly her gratitude. It was hard to tell, with so many of her fingers jammed into her mouth.
“It was entirely my pleasure,” he insisted.
After a few more pleasantries, mother and child departed, leaving Dan to the solemn tranquility of his lake.
A few moments later, he decided to pray.
Heavenly Father, he began, addressing himself to the unseen, omnipotent Creator who reigned all just above them, please bless and protect my Beatrice and Chloe, keep them safe and cared for.
That always came first.
I don’t know whether this morning was a singular occurrence, or if I will be seeing those two more regularly, Dan continued. But might I ask You for a very large favor? If there are other young souls in the Silver City who are in need of horsey rides or pat-a-cake partners, could you send them my way?