Date: Thu, 12 Jan 2006 21:38:55 +0100
From: Harry Anders <harry@harryanders.com>
Subject: Little-Harrys-Life-10

This is the sequel from my first book 'Little Harry', and I strongly
commend you to read book one first! Thus you will enjoy book two even more.

You may find book one on Nifty, or you may visit my new SITE:
http://www.harryanders.com
and read the elaborated book from there (recommended!).

'Little Harry's Life'  >by Harry AnderS, the author of 'Little Harry'<


Chapter 10. The medium, and the truth about John.

I could feel our spirit friends prepared the room, while I lay on the couch
with my head on Big Harry's lap and Big Harry softly stroked my hair. They
were building a nice atmosphere around us, as if we were in the centre of a
huge cathedral. The room went silent, as if all sounds were
damped. Everything felt peaceful and at ease. A nice fragrance of flowers
filled the air, and in the distance a chorus of angels was celebrating. A
beautiful light spread out everywhere, and I had a wonderful feeling of
being totally accepted and loved. I nearly started to cry...

At precisely eight o'clock the doorbell rang, and I rushed to the front
door to greet Christian and guide him into the living room. He entered the
room, and at the same time a bright light started to shine everywhere
around us. Now I could see Jack, smiling at me, and being accompanied by
several other beautiful spirits who all radiated so much love and power
that I nearly cried from joy and happiness.

Christian looked around the room, and smiled:

"It feels nice here. Our spirit friends have already arrived."

He took an easy chair, and Big Harry offered him a cup of coffee.

I followed Big Harry into the kitchen, totally overwhelmed:

"Did you see that wonderful light? It's shining everywhere!"

"What light are you talking about? What did you see?"

"Well, there's a very bright light in the room, shining everywhere. And
Christian is radiating so much love and power... He makes me feel like
crying and laughing at the same time. Jack is there too, together with a
lot of other spirits. I can clearly see them and they all radiate that same
kind of power."

"How come only you can see that light and those spirits? I didn't see or
feel anything..."

"I don't know. It's like I am making it up, but at the same time I know for
sure they are there. I can even feel them with my eyes closed."

I thought he was a bit jealous, because I could see several things he
didn't see... but that wasn't my fault. I couldn't help it and I wasn't
bragging, I just told him what I saw. I leaned into him, and fortunately he
put his safe arms around me and hugged me. He wasn't mad at me...

He brewed a pot of fresh coffee while I placed two cups, a glass of cola,
and a cookie jar on a tray. We returned to the living room, where Christian
relaxed with a smile on his face, obviously enjoying the peaceful
atmosphere in the room. In silence they drank their coffee and I sipped my
cola, enjoying immensely the bright light and the marvelous atmosphere
around us.

After a while Christian started to speak:

"There's a deceased person's spirit in this room, a man who passed away a
few months ago. You didn't know him in his last life on earth, but your son
certainly did. He regrets he had to leave earth so soon, but his time was
up and he had to go home. Now he wants to transfer his responsibilities to
you. He also wants to explain the reason why, so that both of you will know
everything you have to know for now."

I could see Jack next to Christian, looking at me and smiling. He told
Christian something, and Christian listened to him.

Christian nodded his consent, and continued:

"You DO know him. You knew him as a little boy, and at a very young age he
severely burnt his face and his hands. After a few months he died, but he
reincarnated immediately to fulfill his task here on earth. A few months
ago his task on earth ended and he went home permanently, totally aware of
his surroundings and of his powers. He guided you to this house and to this
little boy with the help of others in the spirit realm, because you had to
meet your son from a past life; to help him and to be his father again in
this life."

Christian paused, and took a sip of his coffee.

I had to think over this information first... Big Harry knew Jack as a
little boy who burnt his face and his hands? Then Jack had to be Big
Harry's little brother Joshie. But... then Big Harry and Jack had to be
brothers! Wow! No wonder Jack helped Big Harry to find this house.

But Jack also guided him to ME? Wasn't that a coincidence? Was all this
PLANNED, to bring us together? I nearly couldn't believe it...

Christian told us some more... Big Harry had to meet his 'son from a past
life', to be his father again. Was I Big Harry's SON? Was Big Harry my
FATHER? Was that why I involuntary started to call him 'Dad'?

Christian put his coffee down, and faced me:

"What is your full name, my friend?"

"I am Harold Romani... but everybody calls me 'little Harry'."

"Do you remember where you used to live before you arrived here?"

"I remember a lot of caravans in a big circle around a campfire, and my
people dancing and making music. Suddenly there were a lot of police
officers, yelling and shouting. But we escaped and traveled through a
couple of foreign countries with a spare caravan. Sometimes we stayed in
one place for a few days, but most of the time the grown-ups chased us away
and we had to go on. Then our caravan burnt down and they took me to a
hospital. A nice man, Jack, visited me there every day. He comforted me and
taught me the new language. He was like my second father and I liked him
very much. After a while I started to live with Jack, and he taught me
everything I had to know about the habits and the manners of the people I
am with now. Until two months ago he suddenly died..."

My feelings overwhelmed me, and I started to sob. I crawled onto Big
Harry's lap to find some solace, and he cradled me until I felt a bit
better. I terribly missed my parents! And I terribly missed Jack; though I
could clearly see his spirit, but that wasn't the same. His spirit would
nevermore be able to take me into his arms and tell me to be proud of
myself... I missed my Friend.

Big Harry got a tissue and tenderly dried my eyes. I let myself melt into
his warm aura and strong arms, and felt safe again. He really felt as my
father, unlike Jack who felt as a dear friend. I decided to call him 'Dad'
on purpose from now on. I already knew he didn't mind...

Christian had waited until I felt a bit better, and now he went on:

"Our spirit friends show me a picture of two people, a man and a woman,
both of royal heritage. They belong to a group of people with very close
family clans. Nobody seems to like them and everywhere they are chased
away, accused of theft, robbery, and worse. Nobody really knows who they
are and how they live, and they keep themselves far from every stranger or
foreigner. The man is what we would call a king or a president, but without
a crown on his head, a palace to live in, or a throne to sit on. He is very
important to his people and they always protect him wherever they can. In
their country the police started a witch hunt. The man had to flee in a
hurry and he lost all contact with his people. He went into a foreign
country with his wife and his little son, planning to return after a few
months. The day he decided to go home his caravan burnt down, and he and
his wife both perished in the fire. Only their little son, their heir to
the throne, survived..."

I was shocked! How did he know... this was the truth! This was exactly what
had happened. Now I clearly remembered everything that had faded away due
to the immense pain of the burning. I was their heir to the throne, and
they expected me to be their future King...

I buried my face in Big Harry's chest:

"I KNEW I have a task to fulfill. I just knew it... I have to go back to
help my people when I'm old enough. That's my task... That's why Jack
always told me to be proud of myself... He repeated that over and over. I
think he knew who I was! Will YOU help me to grow up now, Dad?"

My father looked deep into my eyes, and I could see into his heart and his
soul: "I promise I will help you with everything. Cross my heart!"

I had to smile at the children's promise, but I knew he was sincere. I
could trust him and count on him, always and everywhere.

Again we melted into each other, but this time it felt different. More
mature, more... real.

After a while Christian continued:

"Our spirit friends now show me a picture of a hunter in a forest. He goes
to town and takes himself a wife. After nine months a little boy is born,
but his wife dies in childbirth. From that time on, he and his boy are
inseparable. He nurtures the boy, takes him with him everywhere, and
teaches him how to hunt, how to set a trap, and how to skin a deer. After a
couple of years they are heading for their cottage, when they are attacked
by a wounded bear and they both die. Today I see both that man and that boy
together again, here in this room."

Suddenly all those memories returned into my mind, and I even smelled that
stinking bear:

"Now I remember you, Dad! I remember everything! That bear attacked me, and
you tried to rescue me with your knife..."

I saw that enormous grizzly bear heading for me, and I screamed. Without
thinking my father jumped in between to rescue me, with only a small knife
in his hand. The bear ripped him open without any difficulty, and then
crashed me between his claws. Everything went black...

I opened my eyes, and found myself sitting on the floor next to my
father. He moaned a bit, and tried to open his eyes. Christian took a glass
of water and let my Dad drink. That helped, now he sat upright and looked
around the room; until he saw me and faintly smiled...

"Feeling better now, Dad?"

Without a word he took me into his arms and held me close, nearly crushing
me. I started to laugh: now he resembled that grizzly bear... but I didn't
mind at all. I would die for him if necessary! My own Father... I really
was his Son... We had found each other... He tried to protect me with his
own life, and I knew I would do the same for him without any hesitation...

After a while we returned to the couch, and Christian continued:

"Our spirit friends now show me a picture of another lonely hunter who
lived a couple of miles away. He was a wonderful person with a lot of love
in his heart, and he was a very good friend to both of you. Every time you
had to go to town, to sell your pelts and to buy fresh goods, he took care
of your little son. He was devastated by your death, and he killed that
bear with his own hands. But the bear had wounded him, and after a while he
died too. This morning I saw your friend back in the supermarket, and again
he will be a dear friend to both of you. In the near future you will have
to take him into your house for a while; like in the past when he took your
little boy into his house to help you...  "That's all for now. Do you have
any questions?"

That's why John always took care of me... now I recognized him. That's why
I felt irresistibly drawn to him, and he to me, when we first met in our
caravan and smiled at each other all the time. That's why I felt safe when
I crawled into his bed and slept in his arms. He WAS our dear friend.

Wow! All this information was nearly too much to comprehend for my
eight-year-old little boy brain, but at the same time I KNEW it was the
truth. Big Harry, Jack, John, and I were all related to each other and knew
each other from our past lives...

Now that Christian seemed to know everything, maybe he also could tell me
something about my distorted face:

"What can you tell me about my face? Will I ever have a normal face again?
That man, Peter, is making a mask for me to hide my scars, and of course I
am very happy he is helping me. But when I am a grown-up and return to help
my own people, I want to show them a normal face..."

"Within two days your question will be answered. Your spirit friend will
guide you and help you wherever he can. Your friend already contacted your
father a few times and he showed him a couple of ideas and directions. Both
of you should never try to contact him on your own, that could be
dangerous. You always have to wait for him to contact you. That is not
always possible, so you will have to be patient and wait until he shows
up. Now and then he will enter your dreams, or try to imprint his thoughts
onto you. Sometimes you will think you hear his voice in your head. Most of
the time you will doubt, thinking it's your own fantasy; or you will be
afraid you are making it up yourself."

Within two days my question would be answered? That's when we had to visit
Peter to fetch my mask... would Peter answer my question? And I already
knew I couldn't 'call' Jack. I always had to wait patiently until he showed
up. Could that be dangerous? Why? Perhaps because there also were 'bad'
spirits around us who could pretend they helped me? I would certainly keep
that in mind!

Christian sighed, and looked tired. Dad went to the kitchen to brew some
more coffee, while Christian chatted with me. They drank their coffee while
I sipped another cola, and then Christian wanted to go home. We thanked him
for his time and for all his help, and told him he could always count on us
if he ever should need our help. We both accompanied him to the door and
waved until he disappeared around the corner.

We returned to the couch and started to talk. The remainder of the evening
we talked and talked... We talked about our dreams, about what we
remembered of our past lives, about our future, about our best friend John,
about my operations and new mask, about his little brother Joshie who
returned to earth as my big friend Jack, and about my decision to call him
'Dad' from now on. He really liked that!

At last everything we could think of was talked over, and now we both were
totally drained. We went to bed in the middle of the night, dead-tired, but
never in our lives had we felt so good. We cuddled for a long time, face to
face, our arms around each other, looking into each other's eyes, drowning
in each other's love, rubbing our noses together, grinning at each other
like crazy. Sometimes we kissed, sometimes we tried to melt together, and
sometimes we just enjoyed each other's love and warmth.

At last we both fell into a deep sleep, still with our arms around each
other and our faces together on one pillow.

In the morning the bright sun, shining through a crack in the curtains,
woke me up. At the same time Dad stirred and yawned.

I laughed, and stretched out as far as I could:

"Dad, it's time to make me breakfast. Yesterday I made us breakfast, so
today it's your turn..."

"What time is it? I am too old for this! I need my rest! Couldn't you bring
me breakfast in bed again?"

I started to tickle him, but he turned over, straddled me, and mercilessly
tickled me back until I surrendered:

"Stop, Dad! Don't! I'm nearly wetting the bed!"

"I will buy you a packet of nappies."

"You're crazy!"

A moment later the doorbell rang, and I wrestled myself from beneath Dad,
hurried downstairs, and opened the front door.

Within a second I hurried back and dived for my clothes, nearly tripping
over my own feet:

"It's Mom! Err... John's mother, and she is crying..."

Dad jumped out of the bed, and we dressed in a hurry. Together we ran
downstairs, where John's mother patiently waited for us.

She had tears in her eyes, and sniffled into her handkerchief:

"May I have a word with you, please?"

"Of course, please come in! Harry, could you get a glass of water from the
kitchen, please?"

I went to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water, while I heard Mom crying:

"He left me, that son of a bitch. He wrote me a nasty letter, and he wants
an immediate divorce. And he wants to take the two youngest children with
him. I don't know what to do now... This is too much for me. I want to live
with my mother for a couple of weeks..."

I returned with the glass of water, but knew exactly what I had to do first
and what had always helped so far.

I put the glass down, hugged her, and whispered into her ear:

"It's okay, Mom, just let it go. Don't bottle it up. In a few minutes you
will feel better."

Again it helped. Mom pulled herself together and dried her eyes. Now I
offered her the water, and she took a few swallows.

She looked at us with reddish eyes, and hesitantly told us the story of her
marriage; a story she had never told to anyone before:

Fourteen years ago she met a nice and warmhearted man, who lived on his own
in the neighborhood. They started to talk, drank some wine together, and
suddenly they found themselves in each other's arms. After a few days she
knew she was pregnant. She was too ashamed to tell the man the truth, and
too concerned about what her parents and the neighbors would say. That's
why she seduced an unmarried friend, Eric. A couple of days later she told
him she was pregnant, and they married in a hurry. Eight months later John
was born. Two years later they had another boy, Mark; and after another
year they had a girl, Marrie. Eric never knew or suspected that John wasn't
his own child.

Two days ago, after Dad and I left their house, they had a fight. Eric
accused Trudy of being too soft, especially regarding John; and in her
desperation Trudy told Eric the truth, namely that John wasn't even Eric's
descendant! Eric left the house, furious and swearing; and promised her to
be back and take his own children with him.

I didn't understand everything. For example: what was 'seduce', and what
was a 'descendant'? Had that to do with descending the stairs?

One thing I clearly understood now: Mom had been pregnant from another man
when she married. Eric wasn't John's father! That's why they both looked
totally different. John resembled Jack... Suddenly I was
thunderstruck. Could it be...

Mom started to cry again, and now she told us her secret:

"John's real father is Jack, the late owner of your house! But Jack never
knew the truth, and now it's too late. John's father is dead now, and will
never know that John was his own son!"

At that moment I clearly heard Jack's voice in my head, telling me his
secret:

"I DID know the truth, but I never told anybody..."

Aha... That's why Jack always acted shy and blushed when John told us he
wished he could be Jack's son...

After a while Trudy pulled herself together, and timidly looked at us:

"I never told this to anybody except to you now, and I want you to keep
this a secret until John is old enough to understand. I've already phoned
my mother, and I am leaving my house to be with her for a couple of
weeks. I will take the two youngest children with me, but John asked me to
leave him here with you and Harry. Here he can play with his friends, and
he is also very fond of both of you. I am sorry for asking you, and if I am
imposing too much I will take John with me to my mother. However, I
promised him to ask you first. I am sure he will be in good hands here..."

I looked at Dad, and Dad looked at me. Without words we knew what the other
was thinking...

We nodded at the same time, and Dad told her:

"Of course you can leave John here for a couple of weeks. He will always be
welcome in our house, and we will even give him his own bedroom if he
wishes. He can bring his things with him, and you can be sure I will treat
him as if he is my own child!"

"Thank you, that takes a load off my mind. You are a wonderful friend. I
will send John here as soon as I get home."

Mom went home, and Dad and I went upstairs to prepare the spare bedroom for
John. Fortunately he had already furnished the room as a visitor's room
with curtains, a bed, a small table, and two chairs. We took sheets and
blankets from the hallway cupboard, and neatly put them on the bed.

The bell rang, and we went downstairs to let John, Mark, and Marrie in;
carrying a load of boxes, bags, a camp bed, two skateboards, and a lot of
small computer games. A very happy John hugged Dad nearly to death, and
told him he would always love him. In procession we went upstairs to put
away John's belongings and help him prepare his room for the night.

Mark and Marrie left us after drinking a glass of cola, and promised to
write us a postcard now and then. Trudy came by to say farewell, and from
now on John lived with us, just as Christian predicted. Again we went
upstairs, to fine-tune the room and play a few computer games.

At last we were bored and hungry, and went to the living room to accompany
Dad:

"Do you have something to eat?"

"Growing boys need lots of food, especially when they want to be as big and
strong as I am?"

Dad started to laugh and ruffled our hair, while I climbed onto his back
and John leaned into him. Together we went to the kitchen, where John dived
for the fridge and I took the cereal to the table. No tasty cooking this
morning... just a glass of milk and a bowl of cereal. We promised Dad to
make up for it the next morning, but for now we were too hungry to care.

John took a second bowl of cereal, and asked me between two mouthfuls:

"What did that psychic medium Christian tell you yesterday evening?"

"I am a Gypsy Prince! My father and my mother were both of royal
herit... herit-something. They fled from the police during a witch-hunt,
and they arrived in this country with their little son, that's ME. They
wanted to go back to our own people, but our caravan burnt down and only I
survived. That's why I live here now with Dad and with you. When I am old
enough I have to go back to my people to help them."

"Wow! You are a real PRINCE?"

"Yes, I always knew I had to help people, as sort of a task, but I didn't
know why or how. Now I know my own people are waiting for me, and I will be
their leader when I am a grown-up. The only thing is, I don't know where
they live..."

"Wow! So from now on I have to call you Prince Harry?"

"You're crazy! Don't you DARE! We have to keep this a secret from
everybody, until I am big enough."

"Is this really the truth, sir? Or is he fantasizing..."

"He is telling the truth!"

"Wow..."

"Christian told us some more. Dad's little brother, who burnt himself and
died, returned to earth as Jack! That's why Dad lives in Jack's former
house now, because Jack asked a couple of spirits to guide Dad to this
house. Dad and Jack were brothers! But there's still more. In my past life
I was Dad's real son, and he tried to rescue me with a small knife in his
hands, but a bear killed both of us. You were our best friend, and you
killed that bear with your bare hands! But you died too, and now you are
back on earth, only this time you are the son of your mother and Jack..."

Oh NO... what had I done now? That was a SECRET... John's mother TRUSTED
me! Now I had betrayed her trust...

I clasped my hands over my mouth, and stuttered:

"I... I was not allowed to tell you that. Sorry. It had to be a secret,
until you were old enough to understand..."

I colored a deep red, and tried to disappear under the table. What had I
DONE...

John looked at us with sudden comprehension in his eyes:

"I always suspected Eric wasn't my real father, but I never knew for
sure. Mark and Marrie both look like him, but I look totally different. He
was always picking on me and never on Mark or Marrie. Now I understand
why..."

He stared into space, and now and then absent-mindedly took a mouthful of
cereal.

We finished our meal in silence. Then we washed the bowls and put away the
cereal and milk. We went to the living room, where I sat down on the couch
next to John, still very upset. From now on they would nevermore trust
me...

Suddenly John threw himself onto Dad's lap:

"May I call you 'Dad' too, please? I understand now you are kind of my
'uncle', but I don't like that word..."

Dad looked at me, and it felt as if we had a conversation without words:

"You may call me 'Dad' as long as you are here, but please never tell this
to your father. Okay?"

"He isn't my father!" John answered him with bitterness in his voice,

"And I wish I had known that before. That's why I always felt so at ease
with Jack, and I even look like him. Fortunately now I have you!"

John cuddled with Dad and even kissed him, and suddenly I heard Jack's
voice in my head:

"You didn't make a mistake, because John had to know the truth. Now go and
join the cuddle!"

I did, feeling very relieved. Fortunately nobody was mad at me...

After a long cuddle Dad decided to install his computer onto the Internet,
and John and I decided to have some more fun with our skateboards.

We went outside, and soon Thomas joined us. The girls were playing
somewhere else, so we went to a steep hill with all sorts of difficult
obstacles. Now my snow scooter training turned out to be very useful! Even
daredevil Thomas couldn't keep up with me. A few people looked at us for a
long time, but they didn't say a word about my appearance. Was it because
this time I was really proud of myself?

Around noon Thomas went to his house, and John and I went home; where Dad
sat in front of his computer, totally unaware of the time.

"When are we going to eat, Dad?"

"Going to eat? Again? So soon?"

"We are still growing boys, you know..."

He looked at the clock with a shocked expression on his face, and
nodded. We went to the kitchen, where Dad buttered a pile of slices of
toast, while I boiled a couple of eggs, and John sliced some lettuce and
herbs. We had simple sandwiches this time, but they were tasty. We ended
the meal with a healthy orange and a cup of tea.

Thomas yelled from the doorway, so we briefly hugged Dad and disappeared
outside to resume our game. We played for the whole afternoon, until we
were dead tired and sweaty all over. John and Thomas both discovered how to
perform faster turns, and now we were nearly equal.

The sun was setting, and Thomas looked at John and me with puppy dog eyes:

"Can I eat with you? My parents aren't home, and Chrissy went away..."

"Let's ask Dad."

We went home, where Dad still looked at his computer screen with all sorts
of information...

"Can Thomas eat with us, Dad? His parents aren't home, and his sister went
away..."

"Of course Thomas MAY eat with us! But wash your face and your hands
first!"

"Can... err... may we have a quick shower? I feel sweaty all over..."

"Yes, of course you may. Do you know where the clean towels are?"

Of course we knew. We hurried upstairs, happily giggling and pushing each
other.

John and I quickly shucked our clothes and threw them into a corner,
followed by a hesitant Thomas. He looked at me for a long time, until at
last he got used to the sight of so many scars and wild flesh all over my
body. It didn't bother me this time, I even showed off to him.

Eventually Thomas started to laugh:

"You could be a good clown in a nudist circus..."

"Then I will hire you as my personal monkey."

John laughed, but then he looked around a bit pensive:

"Do you have a couple of drinking straws and plastic cups, to have some fun
with?"

I took a towel to dry myself with, and went downstairs. Dad was still
puzzling in front of his computer and didn't see me. I rummaged in the
kitchen cupboards, and found a packet of drinking straws, a whole lot of
plastic cups, and a couple of colored balloons. With them we could have a
lot more fun! I returned to the shower, where John and Thomas started to
cheer when they saw the balloons...

John tried to fabricate a wall out of the plastic cups, while Thomas and I
experimented with the balloons and the straws. Soon we were able to spout a
stream of water by compressing the filled balloons, but John's wall
collapsed every time. At last he tried to keep the cups together by using a
couple of knotted towels, but now the water didn't have any effect on the
knotted wall that was way too strong...

I got a clever idea, tried to dry myself a bit with one of the remaining
towels, and went to my bedroom; from where I returned carrying a handful of
paperclips. That turned out to be the solution! We used the paperclips to
hold the plastic cups together, and soon John had his wall.

Now we had FUN! John jumped up and down, defending the wall with his life,
while we tried to blow it down with our water guns made of a filled balloon
and a couple of drinking straws. Now and then a plastic cup blew away, and
slowly the wall was losing its strength...

Suddenly Dad appeared in the doorway, looking at us. Thomas and I looked at
each other, pointed our water guns at him in unison, and shoot! A moment
later Dad was totally drenched, muttered something, and disappeared; while
we roared with laughter, slapping our knees.

A minute later Dad had his turn to roar with laughter, because he returned
with a bucket filled with ice-cold water! We screamed, and dived for the
warm water stream as fast as we could. He certainly had his revenge.

We left the shower, and looked for some more dry towels. Unfortunately they
were all soaking wet...

We followed Dad to his bedroom, shivering and dripping:

"Do you have more dry towels, Dad? They are all wet..."

Dad muttered something, rummaged in the hallway closet, and returned with
the only dry towel he could find. We had to share it, and promised him to
better our lives and not to make such a mess the next time we played in the
shower.  We tried to dry each other a bit, dressed into our damp clothes,
and went to the living room:

"Can... may we have pizza tonight, Dad? We love them all, but not those
with salty anchovy fishes..."

Dad nodded, went to the phone, and ordered them. Now we impatiently waited
for the delivery man to ring the doorbell... He must have had the shock of
his life, being attacked by three starving growing boys who snatched the
pizzas out of his hands even before he could say a word.

The pizzas tasted excellent, and soon we rushed out of the door with our
inseparable skateboards clamped under our arms.


------------------------------------------


A few excerpts from the nice emails you've sent me:

* I am only up to chapter 5, but this story has touched me so deeply!  It
has brought to my 55 year old heart so much fondness, both for the man (Big
Harry) and the boys.  It reminds me of a couple of boys I used to know. I
have cried, laughed, and cried again.  I have shared their joy and their
heartache, and I love them all! Thank you for writing this beautiful story.

* My thanks for a very nice story ; I read a lot of stories but very few
have this level. thanks again


Thank you for reading my stories, and please send me an email...
harry@harryanders.com

Visit my NEW WEBSITE, and maybe read from there ALL my stories:
http://www.harryanders.com

And, please, write something in our new FORUM...

I wish to thank the Nifty archives for hosting my stories.
When you have a few spare dimes, donate them to Nifty! They are doing a
marvelous job.
(Yes, I've donated them my euros too)