Every place has a guardian

Since moving to the city Peninnah had forced herself to walk. Now, a year later she found that she could take long walks during the early afternoon when the streets were busy and she could be among people. This afternoon she had turned toward Central Park. She had Agatha in a shoulder bag that her Sunday school group had purchased as a Valentine’s gift. The bag was emblazoned with the Breast Cancer Awareness ribbon because, as the children had told her, they knew she would want anything spent to go to a good cause. Saving lives was one she approved of. In fact, she thought much of her work was life saving even when it was just a moment speaking with someone. All interactions had the potential to improve the life of another.

With that thought still in her mind Peninnah sat on a bench and let Agatha out of her bag. The eager dog bounded several feet away yapping. Peninnah tossed the ball but her mind was elsewhere. She had been in the United States for sometime now. Most of her life was spent wandering. To find a post was a careful job and until Julien’s she had not found a place she belonged. That did not mean she pasted the chance to fulfill her duty.

The day she remembered had passed several years now and surely for those around her it was a lifetime ago. For Peninnah it was as fresh as yesterday. It was a park not unlike this one but in a different city. It was west of here and colder than it was today. She was walking in the midmorning toward the train station to take a trip back east. In the park she saw a man with a crowd about him. At first she had not understood but meaning came quickly.

He was young and his arm was missing but in the other he held a gun. He was not threatening the crowd. The gun was held to his own head as he cried. The words made no sense but that did not remove him from her desire to aid him. Peninnah passed through the crowd to the front. No one moved out of fear or the desire to not be involved. She did not understand but stepped foreward anyway.

“Don’t.” He seemed oddly more fearful than angry. He was sad, not dangerous. Peninnah’s heart went out to him.

“I will not harm you.” Peninnah slowed and lowered her head piece to show her face. “I’ve come to help.”

Fear, terror like Peninnah had rarely felt poured off of him. With those feelings came images of foliage and war. She understood now. “You’re safe.”

He backed away and Penninah stayed in place. “Please. I will not harm you.”

He watched her uncertain more of those behind her than the woman who claimed to be there to aid him. “Give me the gun.”

She held out her hand and took another step forward. He didn’t move this time. “I will help you but you must trust me.”

Peninnah took a different tactic when there was no response. She opened her heart to him and let him feel what she was. His resolve faltered as she came closer. “Put the gun down.” She asked one more time.

This time he dropped the gun and as she approached he fell into her sobbing. She could see in his heart and mind. He had seen horrors in the life that few others would be able to imagine. She wrapped her arms around him and sank to the ground with the man who had only moments before held a gun to his head.

“It will get better with time. There are many who still have faith in you.”

Peninnah had remembered him many times since that day. She wondered if he had ever found the help that he needed. There was no way she could know. Peninnah had memories but she never had asked his name.

Her thoughts were interrupted by as sharp yip and a tug on the sleeve. Forgetting the past she picked up the ball and tossed it for her dog. Perhaps someday she would see him again.


Wrods: 702

OOC: I'd like to thank skindeep_smile for finally getting this storyline out and into words through rp. Thanks! NOTE: This is history that takes place just after she is changed. (Just after the end of WWII.

She had always been trusting so when a man offered her shelter when her cathedral no longer stood she accepted. The time was too confusing. Walking hurt and the loss was much greater to her. There was part of her that wished to curl away in the darkened room she was given. The man talked to her though and tried to comfort her. She accepted gratefully though it did not ease the pain.

Days passed until one morning she woke where she had not fallen asleep. Her leg was shackled to a metal floor. Bars kept her in a small area that barely allowed her to stand. This was where she was now. The man she’d known stood outside the bars talking about payment. She didn’t understand what had come to pass. Even when he waved to her she said goodbye. Peninnah believed the imprisonment was her fault. As with the changes in her body this cage was to remind her of what she had failed to do.

“Harpy girl, he says.” The dirtier man who came up to the cage prodded at her with a cane. “Can’t see much under all these clothes. Boys, strip her.”

Peninnah watched as they opened the cage. She pressed into the corner but her leg wouldn’t let her go far. Scissors were used to shear away the layers of clothes until she stood completely uncovered on the shreds of her robes. Fear rooted her to her place even when she began to quake. Cold was not something she was used to feeling.

“Ah, so he was right. Look at you, you ugly little thing.” She was prodded again with the cane.

“Speak.” He brought it down hard on her paw to accentuate the word.

Peninnah pulled her foot away and began to cry. She’d never been hurt when she was not in the midst of a battle. Even there injury had been rare as she often scared her adversaries instead of engaging them.

“We’ll get you to talk.” He walked away laughing.

All Peninnah could do was sit in the cage as horses pulled it toward what she was realizing was a ship. She was being taken from England and her home if she could consider anything to be a home now that St. James was gone. She was loaded up in the dark hold with many other animals. Cages of tigers, monkeys and some other animals she could not name were crammed one on top of the other. No food or water was brought as the days in the dark pressed on.

She did not know how long passed before she saw light again. The air smelled distinctly different as the cargo of dead and dying animals were lifted out. She was one of the last removed into a city she did not recognize. It bustled with people but she had only a glimpse before a tarp covered her cage.

In the dark once more she listened to the sounds outside. The worry of the cuff rubbing the fur from her leg had as much attention as the clop of hooves. Sensory deprivation was now overwhelmed by an entire city she could not see. A day passed into silence when her cage came to a halt. Noise returned early in the morning. Construction and pounding surrounded her meager, dark confines. The sound went on until early afternoon. Voices took the place of the pounding. There had to be hundreds of people out there for the sound.

Yes, we have the amazing oddities from across the world. Alice, the world’s smallest girl and our newest attraction. Just acquired from Europe this amazing girl defies explanation. Harpy Girl is part lion, part bat and part human. She is a wonder to behold. Step right up and be the first to see her unveiled. Never before seen outside of Europe. Step right up.

Voices went on and then scuffling and whispers outside the cage. Peninnah sat in the corner staring at the cuff on her ankle. Sun blindness welcomed her when the burlap was pulled away. People stood many deep in the tent with her cage.

Do not be afraid she’s secure in her cage.

A switch cracked on her bare back. “Get up.”

Hesitating she stood there in the cage. People stared and pointed.

“What a monster. They shouldn’t have killed the poor thing when it was born.” Whispers drifted to her as the people moved on and another group filtered in. Well into the night Peninnah stood in her cage to hear the insults of those who walked past. Night came and she cried. This was what she deserved for failure


Words: 778

Warmth was in the air as was the pale light of a nearly full moon. Peninnah had not often felt restless as she did tonight. It wasn’t a need to move but to shed the coverings. Her life was spent in hiding. Necessary it was but not something she liked. Sometimes it felt like a lie and others just an annoyance. Tonight she could stand neither as she stood in the church gardens.

Everything seemed to vibrate in the silver light. The pulse wasn’t something she could resist. Reaching up she freed the veil. The thin fabric fluttered to the ground glistening red in the light. Her nerves jolted but she continued on. The head wrap slid free allowing the mounds of dark curls to spill out and down her back. It too was discarded. Still the comfort of being hidden remained. Her facial features, though striking, were not the ones she feared.

Her hands trembled on the broach holding her robes in place. The fear of being seen threatened to outweigh the desire to stand under the stars as she wished even for just a moment or a night. Finally the courage came to undo the clasp. The mounds of fabric slid from her to a pile in the damp grass. In the white linen sheath she wore beneath was all that covered her. For once she stood as she wanted, dressed as a normal person. Peninnah gently unfurled her wings, stretching for a moment. The freedom was exhilarating but the fear was overwhelming.

All she could think of was someone seeing her as she was. On that alone she feared for the worst. Despite the feelings gnawing at her she padded lightly across the gravel and sat just beyond the edge of the light. The moon still hung high in the sky. She had hours to enjoy this freedom while most of the city slept. The damp grass felt good against her skin. Laying out she rolled in it purring contently. Even if she appeared human her heart and mind remained feline. As she sprawled in the moonlight the tug of the sun pulled on her. What she would give to lie on a sunny balcony as she once had.

Peninnah couldn’t risk the sun but the moon she could. Rare still was the times when she let go and spent a few lost moments comfortable and free of her self imposed cage. She treasured them. As her gray eyes shone in the light she hoped one day there would be someone to share her secrets and tell her it wasn’t a lie she lived. Lost in the moment those thoughts could wait until morning.


Words 447

A. "In every country, we should be teaching our children the scientific method and the reasons for a Bill of Rights. With it comes a certain decency, humility and community spirit. In the demon-haunted world that we inhabit by virtue of being human, this may be all that stands between us and the enveloping darkness." - Carl Sagan



The world was full of ills. Peninnah was reminded of it day in and day out. Some days when those who came in got too much she would cry when the church closed up for the night. They were not her tears per say but those of her prayers. Some pains left no room for words.

It was after the nights of tears that the children were so welcomed. It wasn’t that they were ever unwelcome but the untouched innocence helped cleanse away the lingering sadness. Today was not a time for stories but crafts. They made candles together. Perhaps it was a difficult project for young children but she had learned quickly how much they appreciated a challenge. The three children who had come on the dreary day seemed all too anxious to be elsewhere despite her best efforts. Eventually she sat with them beside the half finished project.

“Why do we have to make stupid candles?” The little boy, Andrew, was always on the rebellious side so this was nothing new.

“Candles are light.” Peninnah answered simply when the other two children stopped to listen.

“Light is stupid.”

Peninnah sighed and shook her head. “Light is many things.”

“Nu-huh.” Andrew crossed his arms and shook his head.

“Perhaps I can show you.” Peninnah turned out the lights without warning them. She heard squeals and something that might have been a sob from the dark. It broke her heart but there was a lesson here. After a moment in the dark she lit a candle and came to the table. The sobbing and other noise had stopped.

“Light is comfort and peace. It keeps us safe and guides us.” Peninnah smiled setting the holder on the table.

“Is light God?” Jess was younger than the boys but no less intelligent.

“God is one of the many lights in our lives. He is the one that made all the other lights.” Peninnah watched them thoughtfully from where she sat across the table.

“I think my mom is a light.” Nicolas said it quietly.

“I think she is too up in heaven with God but she still shines on you.” Peninnah brushed his ruffled hair out of his eyes. She knew the boy’s mother had died only a few months earlier. He was so strong.

“Do you have any lights?” Andrew was finally looking less irate.

“I have God.” Peninnah offered.

“What about your family?” Jess asked with big-eyed curiosity.

“I don’t have any family.” She wanted to be as honest with them as she could be.

“What happened to them?” The questions were starting this time from Nicolas.

“The man I thought of as a father died a long time ago.” Peninnah sighed thinking of Father Christofer.

“Is he a light too like Nicolas’ mom?” Andrew was fully back in the conversation.

“I’m sure he is. He always took care of me.” He was the closest she had to a father. “I’m making my candle to remember him. That’s why I made it red because it was his favorite color.”

The children seemed a bit more anxious not.

“Can mine be my mom?”

“Of course Nicolas.” Peninnah stood back up and turned on the lights. Already the children were back to the project with more enthusiasm than when they had started.

She was sad to see them leave when the project was done. Still there was a feeling of accomplishment when she heard Andrew tell his mother she was his light. The conversation went on as they walked from the churchyard. It wasn’t the all influencing things that mattered most. Sometimes a simple lesson could change someone forever. She hoped he would remember that all his life. There would always be lights for others. Peninnah had none of her own but she knew why. She was the light for others and she would continue to be until she returned to God.

f. If money is the root of all evil, then what is the root of all good?

As I learn more about humans I can say that I do not believe this comment. Money nor anything else is inherently evil. It takes the hand of another to turn a neutral item to good or evil. One can have a vast sum of money which they donate to an orphanage or use to corrupt a political race. The money is hardly the evil element. For the sake of your question I will pretend that I believe the question as it stands.

The root of all good at heart is God but I do not believe this is a spiritual question so much as a philosophical one. I believe both answers must lie within the human condition. Money is a part of the human condition, a necessity that one can no longer live without in most of the world. To find the root of all good one must discover something that has the same necessity and impact throughout the world.

Without a full knowledge of most of the world this is a very difficult question but I shall address it the best I can. At first glance I wished to say agriculture. Food is a requirement and when one wishes to aid the less fortunate they often give food. This however does not address what one might do that is good upon the wealthy, whom of course have plenty of food. Though I do assume food is gifted to the wealthy as well but with a much different intention.

Along this line I now believe it is not a material thing. As the true meaning of money is material wealthy. If that is evil then it must be the antithesis of that material possession which represents good. Along these lines I should believe generosity is the root of all good. In definition it is giving to another of your possessions. It does in more than just this aspect. No matter the generosity it requires giving of yourself freely. It could be time, money; food, compassion or whatever is truly needed. Even if one is to believe God is the root of all good, generosity applies to that as well.

If money is the root of all evil then generosity is the root of all good.