Margreet did not need to say anything to Rosalie. As soon as she saw that Gloria had finished drinking, she took her pillow, put it on the sofa and sat down against it. As soon as Margreet stood up, Rosalie stretched out her arms longingly and hugged Gloria as Margreet laid her against her. Margreet caressed both girls for a moment and sat down opposite them again on the edge of the coffee table.

She smiled at their guests, saw that Joke was watching the girls very intently. She silently wondered what was going through her.

Joke did not keep her in doubt for long, started talking about it herself: "Books, books are important to her. I have a feeling she is going to write books too," she said softly to herself.

Rosalie looked up and understood that Joke was talking about her. "Right yes, I am going to do that as well. I already write little pieces, but I want to write whole books. Lots of books. You write books too, beautiful books about people like us."

Joke looked at her puzzled: "How do you know that? Did Margreet tell you that?"

"No, I just know, it's just the way it is," Rosalie said with a nonchalant obviousness.

Joke's mouth fell open in surprise. She looked at Margreet as if to ask for help. Margreet grinned slightly, shrugged and said, "Welcome to the world of our dear Rosalie..."

Joke's interest was aroused. "How many years are you, Rosalie?"

"Four, I turn five in February."

"And you already write pieces?"

"Yes, little pieces, about animals. Then I write what the animal thinks and talks and does."

"You mean that animal is then your main character?"

"Yes, something like that, I saw a squirrel here once, and then I wrote a piece about a squirrel. I gave him a name, Swinger, and called him 'I'. Everything he did, I wrote as if I were inside his head." Rosalie chuckled: " 'I'm in the mood for nuts, and there are plenty of them over there in that forest. I'll go get them, see you soon!' "

Rosalie looked at Joke triumphantly: "That's how I write then! And I like that immensely! Swinger became a friend of mine, and I think he also thought I was his friend. He's just a cutie, I got to pet him and feel his tail. Do you know what I felt? That there was a firm rod in it. He told me that's a muscle. Then I said, 'Oh, that's why you can move in all directions so well, that's what you do with your tail, that's what you steer with.' Something like that, I don't remember exactly. Swinger just taught me about himself. Handsome of him, huh?"

"That's certainly handsome, a handsome Swinger and a handsome Rosalie. I guess I'm not so clever yet, because I don't quite understand how that works, how the squirrel taught you those things..." Joke stared outside, as if expecting the answer from there.

"Could it be, that animals also have a soul?" she wondered aloud.

"Yes, they do," Rosalie replied. "That's why they know how to live. They just know it from themselves, from here inside. We know that too, how to live, we know it inside."

"When I see and hear you like this, I totally believe you are right. But when I look at myself and think back to when I was a young girl, I know that I copied a lot of what other people did. Very often I had to, other people, mostly adults, wanted me to do things like them. I do remember that I didn't always like that, but I just had to."

"I feel bad for you about that," Rosalie responded, "because that meant you didn't do of yourself, not out yourself. How do you say that?"

"From within, is that what you mean?"

"Yes, that's it, so very often you have not done that. Do you do so now?"

"Sometimes I do, sometimes I don't. A lot of things from before are stuck in my system." While talking, Joke began to discover that these were beliefs, emotional wounds, living in a system, being stuck.

"But I am healing inside. This is difficult, sometimes painful, but I do notice with writing, for example, that it makes things a bit easier. I get ideas for a chapter more easily. And I'm getting better at making beautiful sentences."

Rosalie looked at her beaming: "I love that for you, that makes me happy! I feel what you feel. With me, the things I want to write just bubble up, like there's a little bubbling machine in my stomach. Writing almost comes naturally. My stories are also getting longer, but not yet long enough to fill a book. That will come, I'm sure! I really want to!"

"And do you think you will always write about animals? Or will you write other books too, about people or something?" asked Joke.

Rosalie pondered, with a wrinkle above her eyes. "I'm not sure yet. About animals for now, but maybe later on about people, or about... no idea, I'll see."

Everyone around her shot into laughter. "Quite right, Rosalie, everything comes in time if you listen to your soul," Anton thought. "And that's something you at least don't have to learn anymore!"

Rosalie smiled at him, "No, I'm already doing it. I love it!"

Margreet stood up. "I'm leaving, I'm going to help Annerieke with cooking. Will you take Gloria with you later, Huib?"

Joke suddenly jumped up. "Hold on, we brought you a present. Can we give that now?"

"Sure," Margreet smiled, accepting the package from Joke. What she took out was a kind of sling she could hang diagonally around her shoulder and put Gloria in.

Rosalie laughed: "A baby hammock!"

Anton also shot into laughter: "That's another cute name, a baby hammock!"

Joke helped Margreet hang it up and put Gloria in it. She showed how to make it slightly wider or narrower using some cords. "And the strap you have around your shoulder can also be made longer or shorter, just as you like. And if you wanted to take her with you now, you could put her in the hammock in the playpen in the kitchen like this. Then she stays warm enough."

"What an invention, I think I'll try it out right away! Sorry Huib, I'll take her now."

"Sure, try it out."

With a hug, she thanked Joke and Anton and asked Rosalie if she wanted to come along, stay in the house, or go back to her own house. Rosalie jumped up: "With Gloria!"

Together they walked to the guesthouse, where Margreet put Gloria in the playpen with the baby hammock and all.

"We'll keep that name in there, Rosalie, a baby hammock!"

To chapter 8. Family reunion

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