I remember when I wrote this story. It was a transistional day. It was a day between the cold of Winter and the fresh breath of Spring. In Florida, the change comes in such subtle nuances of cloud and breeze, temperature and humidity, frog sounds at night and the hopeful sound of thunder at midnight. As I remember it, all the animals knew it was here. Spring!
Love,
Betty
THE END OF WINTER
Wooffer had had enough of lying in the cart watching his Mom work. He had had enough of trying to chase lizards that were too cold to run. He had had enough of all his friends being inside for the winter. It was the second week of March as he stood in the middle of the back yard and yelled at the top of his voice, “WHERE IS EVERYBODY?” Not one reply reached his ears.
Wooffer sat down and thought long and hard. He was very lonely.
I will go see if Old Agnes, Mother of Thousands is out yet, he thought. Off he went to Old Agnes’s Castle of a Mouse House and banged on the front door. He sat there for a very long time. Wooffer knocked again, this time even louder. At last he heard a shuffle … a snuffle … a bustle and tussle with the door. The door opened and there stood a mouse he had never seen before. Holding on to her skirts, peeking around all the folds, were ten little mice. All ten mice screamed and scurried off into the shadows of the hall. Wooffer could see their shining eyes in the darkness of the hall. He had to laugh! The mouse that had opened the door for Wooffer was one of Old Agnes’s daughters. Her name was Minever and the ten screaming little mice were her first children. Of course, Minever had never seen Wooffer before, but she had heard all about him.
Old Agnes had told the story of “The Flood” to every one of her Thousands so many times that any one of them would have recognized Wooffer the moment they laid eyes on him. “Don’t be afraid, children! This is the famous ‘Wooffer’ that your grandmother has told you about so many times!” said Minever, comforting her children. Slowly the ten little mice crept back up and held onto their mother’s skirt, and gazed up at Wooffer with complete and silent awe.
“What can we do for you, Wooffer?” asked Minever, ever so politely.
Wooffer had never expected anyone but Old Agnes to come to the door. She always answered the door herself. Wooffer began to stammer. “I … uh … I … uhm … well … I … uh … I just wondered … I just wondered … when winter was going to be over so everyone would come out and play. Where is Old Agnes? She is okay, isn’t she? I mean, she isn’t …”
“Oh, No! Nothing like that!” exclaimed Minever. “Old Agnes, my mother, has retired. She is now
Old Agnes, GRANDMOTHER of Thousands! She is very well!”
“All the same,” said Wooffer, “I would like to see her if she would come out.”
“You just wait here a minute! I was just about to tell you that she would never forgive me if I did not get her right away to see you.”
Minever turned around and Wooffer could see all ten little mice still holding on to her skirt, bouncing and swinging with each sway of her skirt. He could have sworn he heard a giggle and squeal as she swirled and swayed off to fetch Old Agnes.
Old Agnes came running as fast as her old mouse legs could, with her arms stretched out. She had knitting needles sticking out of her hair in all directions and a ball of yarn in each pocket of her dress. She had a lot of pockets, too!
“Wooffer! Wooffer! Wooffer! You dear, dear, dear!” Wooffer grabbed her by her outstretched hands and shook her up and down. “Old Agnes! I am so very glad to see a friend, at last!” exclaimed Wooffer. Old Agnes was having trouble keeping her knitting needles in her hair, but she was smiling from ear to ear. It had been a long time since she had seen Wooffer.
“As Minever told you, I am retired now!” said Old Agnes with pride (and relief). “My daughters and sons can carry on the Thousands from now on. I can RELAX.”
Upon saying that, Old Agnes sat down on the porch and began knitting at a furious pace. Wooffer watched her every move for a while. He had never seen such a thing in his life. “What are you making?” he asked, at last.
“Oh, I make scarves and booties and mittens! There are so many to make, it takes almost all my time now.” gleamed Old Agnes.
Wooffer could remember Old Agnes as the feisty, fearsome, furious mouse that he saw the day of the flood, and it did not seem to be the same mouse that he saw now. Of course, she was RETIRED now.
Just at that moment, Minever and her ten children came out onto the porch. Such a clucking and cuddling and bouncing on the knees Old Agnes exhibited at that time with those ten little mice, and the smiling and giggling and flips those ten little mice did in return, Wooffer had not seen since he was a pup! When it came time to say goodbye for the day, Wooffer knew that Winter was over and spring had begun. He loved spring!
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