[continued from previous message]   
      
   It was like that.  People often needed someone to look up to.  To have an   
   example for them.  And God was a frighteningly awesome power to look up to.    
   Someone who held her life and death - her very salvation - in the palms of his   
   eternal hands.   
      
   In the end it was simply just that.  A father figure.  She needed a father   
   figure, which had long been absent from her life.  Someone to watch over her,   
   to teach her right from wrong, to guide her on the way, to be the strengh in   
   her weakness, and the    
   protector of her soul.  And because David had never really been there, she had   
   turned to the one sovereign father over all creation, and found her happiness   
   in pleasing him.   
      
   What else could she really do now anyway?   
      
      
   She straightened up, cleaned the grass off the bottom of her skirt, and   
   started the short trek up the hill, back home.  But she reached the pool gate   
   doors, looked at them and, thinking she may as well relax the rest of the day,   
   walked in, paid the    
   admittance fee, and changed into her swimming bikini and went to the big pool,   
   which was empty on this fine summer day, all the Cooma kids still at school,   
   and just past lunch time when some regulars came.  She had it all to herself.   
      
   She floated, on her back, in the water, looking up at the clouds.  Then she   
   closed her eyes.  Her ears were under water and the calm silence made her feel   
   like she was in a world of her own, her own private liitle universe.  Perhaps,   
   in the end, that    
   might be what she needed anyway.  For in as much as the elite heart of the   
   community of magic often mocked the halfblood, the elite heart of the muggle   
   world could hardly be said to be any better.  For a priest or an Imam or a   
   rabbi, who ruled that world,   
    might also be all to eager to shun her, to ridicule her, to cast her aside as   
   a witch, a spiritual fornicator, something no respectable person should be   
   known with.  She'd had that occasionally, throughout life.  Rejection for what   
   she was.  Not often,    
   mind you, but it was there.  A sarcastic comment.  A nasty word.  An   
   unfriendly look.  Even in this day and age were respect was taught strongly,   
   there were still people who looked down on her kind.  And, in the elite power   
   of this world, could there    
   really be a place for a girl who might have ambitions one day, ambitions for   
   great things, ambitions for glory?  She suspected, just the way a halfblood   
   could be despised in her own magical world, so in the world of a muggle she   
   too could suffer the same    
   taunts.  The same rejections.  She knew this oh too well.   
      
   What she needed was her own place, with people of understanding, with people   
   of real concern - with people who cared.  With her own little community, her   
   own little fellowship, were people understood Lucy Potter and accepted her on   
   her own terms.     
   Accepted her as who she was.   
      
   And then she opened her eyes, and stood upright and, looking to the side of   
   the pool she saw Daniel, sitting there, in board shorts and a t-shirt, smiling   
   at her.   
      
   *   *   *   *   *   
      
   'Daniel.  What are you doing here.'   
   'I had an intuition,' he responded.   
   'Witches are the ones who have intuitions,' she replied, drying her hair.    
   'Anyway.  What type of intuition?'   
   'That you wanted to talk to me,'   
   She sat down next to him.  'It's a great pool, you know.'   
   'It hasn't changed in years.  It was different when I was a kid.  Didn't have   
   a roof.  But it's remained the same, now, for a long time.'   
   'What do I want to talk to you about?' she asked him, looking at him.   
   'I don't know.  Something is on your mind.'   
   'Mmm,' she said, suspiciously.  Something was.   
      
   'You know, I have left witchcraft, in the end.  I don't think I will return to   
   it.  Ever.  Oh, I don't know.  Something strange might happen, like God saying   
   it was ok, or something like that.  Or something unexplainable.'   
   'Some mystery,' he said.   
   'Mmm.  I'm looking for a home, Daniel.'   
   'You have one,' he said.   
   'Not what I mean.'   
      
   They were silent for a while, and he sensed she wanted to say something   
   important.   
   'I'm looking for a family, a home, a community.  Something to belong to.  I   
   don't know, a group or something.  As bizarre as it might sound, a fellowship.'   
   'You want to join Haven?' he asked her.   
   'I don't know.  Do I?'   
   He looked at her, and looked out at the pool.  The schoolkids had just started   
   showing up after school, and some lessons were about to begin.   
   'Do you want to come back to my place?' he asked her.  'We can perhaps talk   
   better there.  There is something I could show you.'   
   'Ok,' she said.   
      
   She changed, drying herself, and taking off her bikini and putting her clothes   
   back on.  He had driven down from his house and as they took the short trip up   
   to Cooma North she was pleasantly surprised by the house they pulled up in.    
   It was quite    
   impressive.   
   When they got inside a cat instantly jumped at her.   
   'Don't mind her.  Mushroom 14 is very affectionate.'   
   'You are kidding, aren't you?' she laughed.   
   'One of Shelandragh's Mushrooms came to us, once,' he replied.  'I have   
   continued the numbering.  Out of tradition.'   
   She stroked the cat, smiling at it and playing with it.  It was the   
   traditional dilute american calico, something most of the Mushroom's she had   
   known had been.  It seemed to be taken for granted, and it looked a lot like   
   its predecessors, and extremely    
   friendly to boot.   
   Daniel went to the bookshelf and shortly returned with a book.  He handed it   
   to her.   
   'What's this?' she asked him.   
   'A book.  On witchcraft.  Written by one of the rare Karaite Noahides in the   
   world.  It came out near the beginning of this century.  Its qutie rare.    
   Quite valuable now, as well.'   
   She leafed through its paces.  'What's it say?' she asked him curiously.   
   'Its an objective look at what witchcraft is all about and how the Torah   
   treats it.  But its more than that.  It is written with a philosophy.  A   
   philosophy on religion in general, about how we should treat others who are   
   different from us.  In how mercy    
   prevails over judgement and that getting along, in the end, and tolerating   
   people, were they are at, in the things they enjoy in life, even in awkward   
   things for other people, builds patience in us and helps us to be even more   
   loving people.  Its about    
   acceptance,' he said.   
   'Acceptance?' she asked him.   
   'Acceptance,' he confirmed.   
      
   She opened the book, and turned to the introduction.  It read.   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)