Sally’s Wish

Cats had not entered my life until Sally was four.

David and I were breathing a sigh of relief. Our shopping was done—Christmas cards were in the mail—the tree sparkled with lights. One last task remained, the annual Christmas Eve visit to Santa. Sally was dressed in her red Christmas outfit. Neel’s shirt tail was out and his shoe untied but they were as ready as they would ever be.

When their turn came to sit on Santa’s knee, Neel went first. He had his list ready. David and I nodded smugly. Yes, we had gotten the G. I. Jo Neel wanted, the game of Risk, the baseball shirt.

Sally was more hesitant as she approached Santa. She was quiet at first as she snuggled closer. Finally she said in a soft voice, “I want a kitten.”

“What else?” Santa cheerfully asked.

“That’s all I want.”

“Whoa–” the silent eye exchange between David and I said. A kitten was not among the gifts we had gotten for Sally. Where could we find a kitten on Christmas Eve?

Perhaps a stuffed one from the Toy Store would do. Then David remembered a lady in our congregation who had a houseful of cats. Maybe she could spare one. As I put the children to bed that night David set out on his quest.

By luck or Santa Magic, the lady had the perfect kitten available. Soft and yellow with fur just the color of Sally’s hair, Sweetpea entered our lives.

For many years Sweetpea was a beloved member of our family; moving with us when we moved, populating each neighborhood with her frequent litters.

When David had a year’s Sabbatical in New York City, Sweetpea came along with us She would climb out onto the windowsill of our 5th floor apartment and from this dangerous perch would watch the traffic on Broadway. Perhaps she became urbanized because when we moved back to Virginia, her next litter was only one little cat rather than her usual 5 or 6 kittens

I learned that cats have personalities and Sweetpea was as gentle and sweet as the little girl who wished for her.