OF MICE AND ANGELS

Murial Mouse, in black beret and red smock, paused, paint brush in hand. Friend Merry gave an admiring sigh.

            “How come you’re so famous, Murial?”

            “Pull up a cushion and I’ll tell you,” said Murial, wiping a speck of paint from her nose with the back of her paw.

            “While I was still a bump in mummy’s tummy, she dreamed a dream about me. At the time, she was eating cheese and reading about Mike the angel who painted his sister’s chapel, so she…”

            “Don’t you mean…?” interrupted Friend Merry.

            Murial raised an imperious paw and made a mouth zipping motion.                            

            “…So she knew about big dreams. She dreamed I would paint…heaven.”

            Murial closed both eyes and paused as though waiting for a drum roll to stop. “When she told me about it, it became my very favouritest bedtime story. ‘Merle,’ she’d say, ‘Merle…’

            “But your name isn’t Merle,” frowned Friend Merry.

            “How do you expect me to finish this story if you keep interrupting,” snapped Murial.

            “’Merle’, she’d say, ‘Anyone can dream big dreams, but they come to pass little by little. You must remember that.’ So I practised painting, first on a mouse pad, then on a mouse tarp.”

            “Do you mean a mouse trap?”

            “I mean one of those big plastic sheet things that cover mouse holes and keep out the rain. Where was I? Oh yes,” Murial continued, “One day it occurred to me that if that Mike angel chap could paint ceilings, I could paint walls. So I painted my bedroom, the bathroom, the long wall in the hallway…”

            “Different colours or all the same?”

            Murial raised one eyebrow.

            “I painted white horses and thrones, and rainbows and a huge crystal sea. I used all four walls of the kitchen to do the angels, of course, because of there being thousands of them. And that, dear Merry, is how I came to be famous.” She twitched her whiskers. “And how I got my new name.”

            “How so, Murial?”

            “Because of painting all those Murials, of course.”

            “But, but, but…” squeaked Friend Merry, jumping up and down, “You mean a…a… mural!

            “Exactly,” said Murial, striking a pose at her easel.

NB: Murial’s mum was a big fan of the Bible. She knew about Joseph and Abraham. That’s how she knew about big dreams. Murial knew about heaven from reading the Book of Revelations chapters 4, 5 and 19 and also Ezekiel chapter 1. And if you read Revelations 3:12 you will see she is not the only person to get a new name.

© Rhonda Pooley 2012