Within a few hours of meeting Arthur, I had begun to dream up a story about his adventures in my yard and many other aspects of his life. My heart tells me that he has enjoyed some truly magnificent times, but these days his spirits are quite low. You see, Arthur’s best friend, Priscilla the Cat, perished during the past winter and the little mouse is still grieving over the loss of his beloved pal and protector. Over the past few months, Arthur has come to realize that tears come from a bottomless well and that pain can only be softened by the passage of time and the warmth of another friend.

Arthur will never forget the love, companionship, and gifts of blissful times that Priscilla bestowed on him. Those memories are his forevermore and one day, he’ll be able to describe them in full to a new friend. Oh, the new companion will never occupy Priscilla’s place in Arthur’s heart, but a bond of great warmth will be established someday. Perhaps today was that day and I am to be the new friend.

I am a writer. I write directly from my heart and I thank God for the gift of imagination, love, and ability to describe my thoughts on paper. These exquisite joys enable me to see a wee, field mouse and then write about the life and times of my sweet new friend.

My passion for the written word also provided me with the modicum of talent necessary to write a novel entitled, “Searching for Brigadoon.” It isn’t a very well crafted book, but many people have apparently enjoyed the story. I owe them a tremendous amount of gratitude for their gifts of praise and encouragement.

Above all, however, I was able to write, “Searching for Brigadoon,” because, along the way, I’ve learned a great deal about love, heartbreak, dignity, and the pursuit of unparalleled and unquenchable romance. These lessons helped me to visualize the experiences of Shona, Peter, Vicky, and Rory. I knew exactly what was going on in their lives because I’ve lived through the same pain, happiness, and need that each of the characters in “…Brigadoon” feel.

After my story, “The Life and Times of Sonya MacSony,” was published, a few people chided me for being silly enough to ascribe human emotions to my television set. Their comments caused me to experience sadness, but it wasn’t because they had rejected my story. I was sad due to the fact that they could not see that Sonya was a symbol of love and companionship. Yes, she was a television set, but there was much more to her than a mass of transistors and other components just as those whom we love are not just a collection of body parts.

Sonya was “real” to me and I used her story to describe the beauty of love, friendship, and need. My heart told me how to tell her story.

Last year, I wrote a tale entitled, “MacWuff.” The story described, through the eyes and soul of a beautiful Collie (who everyone believed was a Labrador Retriever), the pain of rejection brought on by those who refuse to look into the hearts of others, but are only concerned with what is deemed acceptable by the majority of society.

The story, to some, probably seemed to detail the life and times of a Collie (and her friend), but in truth, I was writing about people who are rejected due to their sexual preferences, race, and religion. I was able to write the story because I know people who have suffered at the hands and stinging words of others.

I have never lived in or visited Scotland, thus how could I possibly, in a few articles, write with such passion about a country, her history, and destiny? “Braveheart” provided me with some factual (and some fictional) information regarding a certain part of Scotland’s past, but not nearly enough for me to wax somewhat poetically about freedom and independence.

The answer is that I know about freedom of the heart. I know about valor. I know about the strength of the spirit. I know about passion. In fact, each time that Sharma (the editor of “Scottish Radiance”) returns from a trip to Scotland, she speaks volumes about the passion, strength of spirit, valor, and dignity of the Scottish people. I listen to her words and they fill me with a sense of understanding for those who walk the land once inhabited by Sir William Wallace.

I also study the letters written to me by those who’ve read my feature, “Forever Scotland the Brave.” These people love Scotland so dearly that their souls surely must have been born in that magnificent country. Their words inspire me to revisit and cherish the message of “Braveheart” and to revel in the beauty of Scotland.

The promise of freedom burns vibrantly in the hearts of many of Scotland’s people. I’ve never met them, but I can hear their cries. I can hear their passion calling outwards to the rest of the world. I listen to their voices of pain, need, and dignity. The sound awakens the wind chimes of my heart and spirit. I listen and then I write.

When I write stories describing the beauty of Scotland and the miracle of freedom, I pray that you can hear the voice of my spirit. When I detail the life and times of a television set named, “Sonya,” hopefully you can hear the sounds emanating from my heart. As you read the tale of a wonderful young lady named, “MacWuff,” I would love to believe that you hear what my heart is whispering. If you decide to read, “Searching for Brigadoon,” perhaps you’ll be able to not only hear the sound of my heart, but your own as well.

I’m going to take some time now and listen to what my heart wishes to tell me about Arthur. I know that it will, through the wee, mouse’s story, talk with me about the pain of losing one’s dearly beloved friend, but also the belief that someone else can bring bounties of sunshine into a realm of loneliness. My heart tells me that this is so and I can hear it calling me. I can hear it now and I will write the story.

Just for a short while, listen to the voice of your own heart.

Do you hear it softly whispering to you?

There! There it is! You can hear it and it is so very beautiful.

It is telling you, dear reader, that you are loved and this symphony of truth is the sweetest music of all. It is precious. It is timeless.

I know this to be so. I know this to be so.

I would love to hear from you. My readers are very important to me and I answer each and every email. My contact is Gary.

You can find more articles in the archive under Reflections on a Dream