That morning Huib and Margreet had installed themselves in the children's room with the painting attributes. They had both put on old clothes, clothes that were allowed to get dirty from the paint splatter.

"It's nice that you have already sanded everything," Margreet said, "then we can start painting right away. What a beautiful color it is, so soft! Sweetheart, I'm really happy with it, and I feel like starting..."

Huib smiled, watching her open a can with a large screwdriver and dip her paintbrush into it.

"Wait a minute," he warned, "stir it well with this spatula first, so you'll be sure to have the same color all the way through the can."

She nodded and did as he indicated. "Hmm, it’s not a big deal, but I saw there was a bit of a color difference. Thanks for the tip Huib!"

"You're welcome," Huib said, smiling, as he rocked the lid off his own can. "Can I have that spatula for a moment? Then I'll stir my can, too."

Margreet wiped her spatula on the can and handed it to Huib. Then she put her brush back into the paint and stirred through the top layer for a while.

"Well, here we go!" She stood up and began to coat the window frame with a beautiful, very light lilac coating. She stepped back for a moment to look at it, "I don't know what it will look like when it has dried, but right now it's beautiful!" She painted on quietly and with pleasure.

Huib, too, was enjoying the work. He watched the doorframe refurbish. After the doorframe, he wanted to start with the door itself. He had bought a roller for it and one of those plastic paint trays, into which he poured some paint. He rolled the roller through it a few times and started painting the door.

Margreet looked over and asked, "Huib, shouldn't you lay down that door? To prevent dripping?"

Huib hummed, "Some people say that yes, I've heard that before. But if I roll out the paint properly, it shouldn't drip. If I put too much paint on it of course it will. May sound stubborn, but that's what I feel inside, that it should just be possible."

Margreet marveled at how confident he was. She herself was not always so of her own impressions, if she knew other people were claiming otherwise. But she understood that he followed his insides and therefore knew what he was doing. To be honest, she was quite curious to see how it would look like tomorrow! She turned back to her own work, just at the moment Sjaak started to play the piano. Because they had opened the window, she could hear his playing very well. Holding her brush silently in her hand, she stood there listening for a moment.

"Do you hear that Huib?" she whispered breathlessly, "so much anger! Sjaak being so angry, what could be the matter?"

"I don't know, all I know is that this morning they were supposed to go to the house where Lisa has lived to pick up stuff. I suspect it was pretty confrontational. Gee, I feel sorry for the guy, he doesn't express himself that easily, so if it's coming out all at once, it must be intense."

"Yes, it certainly is intense, I feel that, but also incredibly beautiful. If you can make music like that... it almost makes me jealous, longingly jealous..."

Margreet continued painting, meanwhile listening to Sjaak's piano playing. It touched her, it stirred inside of her. She felt a ball of emotion grow in her belly and tears sprang to her eyes.

"It's like I'm being touched in my own pain," she whispered, stopping painting again for a moment. She blinked her eyes and continued painting again.

"I think your own anger, which you have probably always skillfully pushed away, is being touched by Sjaak's piano playing. Through his music he burns to you. That is what dad always called it, burning. Then power and light and energy flows from his soul to your soul, to help your soul heal. I have listened to a lot of music in the past from people who played and sang from their soul, from their heart. This has touched me so many times, sometimes tears streamed down my cheeks. I have felt how pain in my life dissolved, disappeared, how I healed.

I still don't know exactly how it is, but I think that our souls have also lived in a body in previous centuries, and that our souls have become more and more wounded as a result. I never understood as an adolescent. I had grown up in such a wonderful family, a family in which I could completely become who I was. So why was I still faced with so much pain? Where did that come from? My father came up with this idea of what they call reincarnation, that we have lived before. That allowed me to understand it better.

And then he also explained something else to me, which was, that when I heard, saw or felt things, things from other people, other areas, other situations, that I could also become emotional from that. And that because of the connection I then had with that person or with that situation, I also burned to them."

Huib waited a moment, trying to feel if he could ask Margreet the question that came to mind, already now, if she was ready for it. He had the impression she was and asked her, "Margreet, have you ever had a desire to help people with their emotional healing?"

Margreet replied as she continued painting, "Yes indeed, I have always had a desire for people to get better, physically, psychologically, you name it. I saw that people hardly ever really lived, and I hardly got that myself. That frustrated me, I knew there had to be more and I longed for it, for myself and for others. But how?

And then I came here, got to know you, and discovered that somehow you were in the middle of it, working on it. And I got to know Lisa, I saw and felt her wounds, and longed to be able to be there for her, to help her, but yes, frustratingly, after that week of vacation, she was going to go back home. Fortunately, that turned out differently, but I felt especially through her how I long to heal people, especially emotionally, and also physically... by the way, I think that the physical heals itself at least in part. After all, a lot of physical complaints come from emotional bullshit, doesn’t it? So if that shit heals, the body should heal along with it. I think..."

"Hmm clear thinking! But so you have the same desire as me, and as Annerieke and Sjaak. And I actually expect Lisa to have it too. In any case, I already noticed that she wanted to destroy those things that Henk used on her, to prevent other women from being mistreated by it. That already seems to point in that direction of a desire to help people heal."

He was silent for a moment as his roller continued on the door. Margreet used that moment to ask the question that had been on her mind for some time, "But how? How then can I help people heal? You talk about burning, about power and light and all that. That should then go from my soul to someone else. But how am I supposed to do that?"

"You don't have to do anything, you just have to live. The further you yourself heal emotionally, the stronger your soul passes on its power to another. This works automatic, it is just part of your soul's being. So you don't have to say or do anything, except when you get a clear impression.

Do you know when that burning also works strongly? When you do what suits you. Needlework suits you, so when you are busy with that, your soul burns like hell. And if you wear that vest that you have been working on lately, then that vest works with you. You are burning through that vest or so. It sounds crazy, I think, but that's how I feel it. What you put your time in, give your attention to, that helps. And no, I don't understand it all, but this is how I feel. I wouldn't be able to prove or explain it scientifically."

"Don't need to," Margreet replied, "I feel it's right. And that's pretty special, because it doesn't fit at all into what I've always been taught."

Huib shot into laughter, "That sure is special! So cool that you learn to understand and feel your soul this way!"

Margreet sighed deeply: "Yes, certainly beautiful, I feel that I am starting to discover more and more of myself and am starting to live more! Things are starting to make more sense, my life is starting to make sense!"

She beamed as she looked back at him. Huib put his roller in the paint tray for a moment and walked over to her. "Have I mentioned today that I love you so incredibly much?"

"No, you haven't yet! Hence, I'm not feeling on top of the world today!" Margreet responded quasi-sadly.

Then they both shot up in laughter.

"You're wonderful!" Huib said, hugging her. "But I'm going back to my paint roller quickly now, otherwise I'll get a weird result there."

For a moment they worked on in silence. Then Huib remembered an event from a short while ago. While painting, he asked Margreet about it: "Do you remember when we sat together looking at your pictures from the past? Did that feel terrible to you? Terribly difficult? Painful? Or sad?"

"It wasn't pleasant, but it wasn't too bad. How so?"

"I remember, I was sitting next to you, and I felt how my body started to tingle, especially my legs. And in my belly I sometimes got shooting pains. I used to have this a lot in the past, but it had been gone for the last few months. I think because of Erik's accident, I needed healing for that myself first. But while looking at your photos it was there again, I recognized it as burning. I was burning at you at that moment. The result was that you could go through those difficult memories more easily.

And Sjaak told us something similar. When Lisa was playing the violin so sadly, he had been listening on the couch. The tears had flowed down his cheeks and he had also felt the burning.

Burning does not feel the same with everyone and not in every situation, but you too will start to recognize it in yourself. It also happened yesterday, with Martin and George in the kitchen, when we were all processing the news of Henk's suicide. Then I felt it too. And I suspect that Sjaak and Annerieke have noticed it too.

Gretel, it makes me so happy! We do what suits us, we do what we enjoy, and without seeming to do anything special, we help each other and others to heal emotionally! How cool is that? People come here on vacation and get a piece of healing out of it! For free and for nothing!"

Margreet shot into laughter at how he said it, "Yes, free and for nothing! But how beautiful Huib, it gives me so much courage, and passion to keep going, also through my own process!"

When Margreet was done with the window frames, she tidied up her own things, cleaned the brush well and put it in a jar to dry. She watched for a moment as Huib put the finishing touches on the second side of the door. He had already done the narrow edges on the sides of the door with a brush in between, and the result was stunning.

"Tomorrow Elly is coming to paint the wall, but how will she know where the dresser will be? I mean... her paintwork shouldn't disappear behind that!" Margreet asked.

"You're quite right sweetie, at first I had thought of putting the dresser there in advance. I don't think there will be any further decorations, so it's actually finished. But then it will be in the way when Elly starts painting there. I just think out loud... If we put the dresser there, then I can use a pencil to draw a few lines around it, so she knows she cannot use that space. And then we'll put the dresser by the other wall. Then Elly has all the space, and she can also see where she can and cannot paint. Does that sound like a good idea to you?"

"Sounds perfect! And I think it's good that you don't decorate the dresser any further. I felt disappointment for a moment when you said it, but then I got the thought that it was better, so that Elly's painting would show up better. I also think, we should keep the stuff that will be on the dresser simple, so it doesn't distract too much from her birds and butterflies. Oh Huib, it's going to be so special!"

Huib stretched his back, "So, that door is done! And yes, it's definitely going to be special. What baby wouldn't want to be diapered here?" He grinned and grabbed his things to clean and tidy up.

Together they carefully pulled the masking tape off the walls and windows and looked at the result.

"Very satisfied, you then?" asked Huib.

Margreet said nothing, but from her enthusiastic nodding he could see her answer.

To chapter 128. The cello battles and cheers

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