This is a story Molly wrote that we distributed as small booklets Christmas 2000.

There weren’t any stars the night Garnet was born. The sky was purple from all the city lights. Her mom was too poor and too sad to keep her, so she wrapped Garnet in newspapers and her only sweater and left her in a cardboard box on a bench in the rose garden. Garnet was so cold, so hungry. She cried and cried. None of the people in the noisy cars whizzing by heard her. Then somebody came — Willie and Nix. They were Garnet’s size, bright eyed and soft-furred. They hopped into the box next to Garnet and purred. She wasn’t so cold then.

Willa Sundog came around the bushes. The Bread, Not Bombs people had given her some dinner. Even though she had no place to stay that night, having her belly full made her say, “I feel lucky.” When she saw Garnet, Willie and Nix, she eased herself onto the bench next to the box. “Hey, don’t worry kids,” she said, “I know lotsa Christmas carols. If they didn’t invite us, we can have our own Christmas party.” And she began singing.

Earlier that day, Alma and Cully were camped with their vardo by the river. “Do you know what, Cully? I’m lonesome.” “Let’s go find friends,” said Cully. “Yes!” Alma snapped her fingers, “In the Christmas Truck!” They began — in a bit the truck was garlanded with greens and ribbons. In the back stood a tree alight with sparkles. Alphonse the guinea hen perched in its branches. Cully gave Nubie the goat a boost up and climbed in after him with his violin. Alma drove and Wowser the mutt dog rode with her.

The Christmas Truck went to the city. Whenever they saw someone with a wistful look in their eyes, the truck stopped and Alma said, “Hop aboard, friend!’’All around went the Christmas Truck, with music playing and laughter floating on the music. At last the Christmas Truck was so full of friends that Wowser had to sit on someone’s lap who was sitting on someone else’s lap. It was time to return to the vardo for feasting, singing, dancing and storytelling.

The Christmas Truck turned a corner. There was the rose garden. And there stood Willa Sundog, with Garnet in her arms. Nix and Willie were nudging the hem of her long old coat. Willa Sundog was singing loudly in that garden where dried brown rosebushes rattled in the wind. On her hat was a bright blooming rose. The folks on the Christmas Truck all squeezed a little closer as Garnet was handed up and Willa, Nix and Willie climbed in back. Off they all went in the Christmas Truck, leaving the scent of roses to linger on the city streets.

Living Off the Grid
A description of what we do in order to live without electricity and running water.

Making a Living

Cats
is a quick look at some of our cat buddies over the years.

The Mystery Jar
We take a look at the Mystery Jar, is the label or the contents more important?