Not long ago, Jack and Poppy discovered something. Something really good. They noticed that if they asked grandma for a treat — for anything — she would almost always give it to them. In other words, that Grandma was a sort of Super-Marsh-Mellow Grandma.
Almost every time they asked she would nudge her big granny glasses up on her nose and smile down at Jack and Poppy and say, “Well of course! You can have anything you like!”
Almost every time. Because some times she would nudge her big granny glasses up on her nose and put down her knitting or her gardening gloves or whatever she was doing and say, “Hmm. Not sure about that. Might be difficult … tell me why do you want it?”
So sometimes it didn’t work, but Jack and Poppy knew that it mostly did. And anyway, they always liked being with their grandma.
She was short, with long white hair heaped up on top of her head. Her slippers were chunky with shiny worn patches and they slopped and clapped on the kitchen floor when she went to the pantry and reached up for the chocolate biscuits. And her hugs were the best hugs ever. Jack and Poppy each got one whenever they trooped in her back door and called out, “Grandma! It’s us!”
Often they’d find grandma sitting in lovely afternoon sun in the living room on one of her famous chairs. There were two famous chairs. Big green ones as wide and soft as a feather bed. Grandma used to say, “These chairs have got everything an old granny needs when it’s time to watch telly.” Dad used to chuckle when he heard that. “And when it’s time to fall asleep, mum,” he’d say.
One day Jack and Poppy trooped into grandma’s back door, got their warm loving hugs, and chocolate biscuit, and told grandma dad would pick them up after his work, and then told her what they’d just seen.
“Grandma,” Poppy said, “there’s the most cute little kitten at your gate.” Jack said, “It’s sad too, grandma. It’s meowing and shivering.”
“Oh, dear me,” grandma said. “Let’s go and have a look. We don’t want kittens to be disoriented and frightened.” Jack said he didn’t know about that, but no-one would want a kitten to be lost. So he and Poppy led the way to grandma’s gate.
Sure enough, there was a little kitten. A small ball of fluffy brown and white. “So cute,” Poppy pointed out. But, like Jack said, it was frightened; huddled against the gate and not sure if Jack and Poppy were going to pick her up gently or kick her and say, ‘Go away, bad kitten!’
Grandma said they’d better help the poor wee thing, so Poppy gently scooped up the kitten (“Let’s call her Rosie,” Jack said.) and they carefully, gently brought her to the backdoor step. Poppy sat and stroked, Rosie. Grandma poured a little splash of milk into a saucer and Jack carried it out and put it down next to the kitten. Without spilling a drop.
But Rosie wasn’t interested in the milk. She just wanted to snuggle into kind Poppy. “You’re so cute, Rosie,” Poppy said and Jack and grandma thought so too. They bent down and gave Rosie soft little strokes.
This really helped because after a short time Rosie began to vibrate like a little electric motor. Poppy felt it immediately and broke into a big smile. Grandma was beaming too. “She’s relaxing,” Grandma said. “Feeling safe again.” Jack moved the milk saucer a little closer and the wee kitten leaned down and licked it.
Well, what a time they all had. Soon Rosie was leaning into Jack’s legs and shaking her little head and sniffing Poppy’s shoes and looking up at Grandma. Poppy twirled a leaf in front of Rosie and the wee kitten pounced on it and scraped it with her paws. Everyone laughed and Rosie rolled on her back and looked up at them all.
Jack carried out some more milk and Rosie licked the plate again. Poppy said Rosie was feeling ‘at home’ and Jack said he wanted to look after Rosie for ever and ever. “She’s so cute,” he said.
And suddenly Jack and Poppy had the same idea. At the same time. They looked at each other. Then Poppy looked up at Grandma and said, “Grandma, Jack and I have a good idea.”
Grandma thought she knew what that idea was, but she asked, “What is it?” Jack said, “We want to look after Rosie all the time, Grandma. Can we take her home with us when dad comes?”
Grandma pushed her glasses up her nose and said, “Hmm. Not sure about that, Jack. Might be difficult … tell me why you want to take her home?”
Poppy tried to explain that Rosie really loved her and Jack and no-one else wanted her. How she’d been lost and helpless on the street, “Like a homeless person, Grandma.” Then Jack blurted out, “We’ll be the best people to look after her, Grandma.”
But Grandma said a long thoughtful, “Hmm”. She sat down on the doorstep with a tiny frown on her lovely round face and reached for her phone. “Let me check on social media,” she said. “I think you’ll find this little kitten is someone’s lost pet. And that her name isn’t Rosie.”
That was a terrible thought! Poppy lifted Rosie up and pressed her close. Jack reached through Poppy’s arms and found a place where he could stroke their new, best friend. Rosie was warm and cuddly and vibrating and making low thrumming sounds.
Grandma scrolled on her phone then stopped. She said, “Hmm,” again and peered at the screen. Then she held the phone out to Jack and Poppy and said, “Recognise this little kitten?”
They did. It was a photo of Rosie. And her name wasn’t Rosie. And she was with another girl. And the other girl was saying if anyone found her wee pet would they please return her “because she’s lost and I’m missing her so much!”
Poppy and Jack felt their hearts sink. They gave big sighs and said “Oh dear”. Rosie would have to go back to the other girl.
Grandma made a phone call to the girl’s mum and soon their car pulled up. When Rosie saw them she struggled out of Poppy’s arms and ran to the other girl. The mum and the other girl were so happy. Jack and Poppy were happy that she’d been found. But they were sad too, that Rosie couldn’t stay with them. Grandma put her arm around Poppy and the three of them waved as Rosie was driven off in the other girl’s car.
Just then dad arrived to pick them up and Jack and Poppy climbed slowly into the back seat and waved a limp goodbye to Grandma. They didn’t say much. Dad glanced in his mirror and asked, “You two have a good time with Grandma?” So Poppy explained what had happened. The whole sad story. “Dad, Rosie was so cute!” she said. Jack said, “I know we’d have looked after her better than that other girl.”
Dad said, “Yes, it’s difficult. I’m sorry that you’re feeling so sorry. But look, this is how things are. Actually, it was something like that for John the Baptist. “Do you remember one of our bedtime Bible stories? When he discovered Jesus was the Special One?” Jack couldn’t remember that story, but Poppy nodded. So Dad went on and said “when John told his disciples, some of them left him and followed Jesus instead.”
“That would have made John sad,” Jack said. Dad said, “Probably. But definitely you both feel a little sad. And Mum and I will help you.”
The car pulled up at their place. Jack reached over and pressed the remote for the garage. Soon they were in the kitchen telling mum all about it.
“And you know,” Jack said, “it’s strange, because Grandma almost always gives us what we ask for.” Poppy nodded. “We almost had Rosie,” she said. Mum and dad looked at each other and gently smiled. “Well, you have a great evening meal coming up in a few minutes,” mum said. “Like to help set the table?”