"Cassandra, where are you?'' a resounding phrase that echoed through the long corridors of Granaway Manor. The words seemed to run together as one, in the Bermudian way. Mrs. Dill was about to give up hope at finding her lovely daughter, who in spite of recent sorrow, found time to play and frolic in the emptiness that seemed to fill the house and its grounds.

Granaway manor was a house that stood tall on a hill overlooking scenic Hamilton Harbour. It was a house that if one hadn't seen its surroundings would have placed it in the Victorian district of San Francisco. The house was magnificent.

Granaway Manor looked just like a gingerbread house. The roof itself was quite majestic with its exquisitely laid black roof tiles patterned so perfectly. It was such a contrast to the pristine white roofs that surrounded it.

Perhaps it would have been out of place if Granaway Manor hadn't stood on a hill all by itself. But the white roofs surrounding the manor were like wreaths circling a great candle; somewhat like an advent candle at Christmas time.

Again, Mrs. Dill called out, and one could tell that her patience was wearing thin just by the way she called out for her daughter. "Where are you Cassandra?'' Mrs. Dill searched and the same time carried on with her work, for she knew that Cassandra would come round soon enough.

Most of all she had so much work to do, that to delay it would mean a long backlog. Mrs. Dill was in charge of making the costumes for the church Christmas Eve pageant, with only one day left to finish. She had been using Cassandra to size the costumes as all the girls in the St. Mary's choir in Warwick were about her size and height.

For the past month since her father's death Cassandra had found a haven in her father's studio. The studio was on the estate of Granaway Manor, perched in the lower garden. Hibiscus bushes surrounded it and bougainvillea climbed the walls.

Next to the studio was Mrs. Robinson's cottage. Mrs. Robinson and her husband had been caretakers at Granaway Manor for almost twelve years. They had arrived from Turks Island shortly after Cassandra was born.

Aside from her parents Mr. and Mrs. Robinson, whom she called Pa and Ma, were her favourite people on the face of the earth.

Cassandra knew that nobody would look for her in her father's studio. Everyone seemed to be avoiding it, but it was the place that she ran to when she found out that her father had drowned.

The smell of cedar and damp stone made her feel at home. She especially loved to wrap up in her father's tartan throw blanket which still lay tossed over the armchair where her father made his sketches.

Mr. Dill had been a good swimmer, but had suffered a heart attack while taking his daily swim across to Blue's Island.

"In his studio dad found so much joy'', thought Cassandra out loud. Despite her grief, she was able to find hope and joy, in the weeks that followed her father's death just by being near his work. She wanted to recreate that joy for everyone that knew and loved her father, especially her mother.

As Christmas was coming Cassandra had the perfect idea, with her father as her projects inspiration. Her father's motto had been spread joy around, and plenty not wanting will abound. Cassandra wanted so much to spread that joy to everyone.

Cassandra smiled as she viewed her crafts. She had been busy in her father's studio crafting little ornaments made out of palm fronds and bay grape leaves.

At twelve, she showed much talent for crafting.

She had watched her father for hours on end craft masterpieces out of the island flora, and carve spectacular images out of Bermuda stone and cedar.

Her favourite of her father's works was the piece of stonework that her father called `Inspiration'. He had fashioned so perfectly an assemblage of a family likened to hers, surrounding by Jesus with his arms encircling them.

Inspiration stood in the centre of the courtyard outside the studio.

Cassandra was fascinated whenever her father began a new project. When thinking about Inspiration she smiled. She remembered asking her dad about why he was sculpting the hands first.

He replied. "It is through hands that we all are able to extend our gifts one to another''. From that moment on whenever she drew pictures with people in them, she would draw characters with very distinct hands. It became her trademark.

Cassandra heard a knock at the door. She knew instantly who it was. She had confided in Mrs. Robinson, because she knew that she needed help gathering materials for her project. When Cassandra had given Mrs. Robinson all the details, Mrs. Robinson said that she would ask her husband if he would help.

Cassandra would need his help gathering the materials. Pa agreed.

"Ma, is that you''? called Cassandra. "Yes, dearheart'', said Mrs. Robinson, as she entered with the last bundle of fresh palm fronds, and a basket full of bay grape leaves.

"I can't believe that I'm almost finished'', said Cassandra. "Dear heart, you've been working so hard on your ornaments and to think you are almost through''. Mrs. Robinson was so proud of Cassandra. Cassandra had only shown her some of her work; she had yet to see what Cassandra had done with the Bay Grape leaves.

Cassandra carefully split the palm fronds into single pieces; to those pieces she then split into smaller pieces, which resembled the fraying on a tassel.

With each individual thread she would wave delicate patterns. She had discovered this technique all on her own, and was quite pleased with the results. All that was left was for her to attach a small piece of one of the many yards of ribbon that Ma had given her.

She had thought long and hard as to what she would do with the Bay Grape leaves. After some thought she decided to shred the leaves, and use her glue gun to help create an intricate lattice work design. She was saving these as a surprise.

Cassandra smiled, as she gathered her new delivery of materials, because she knew that by the next day she would be finished. Taking out what she would need to finish, Cassandra put the leaves and palm fronds aside, as she needed to take a break from her labour of love.

Cassandra walked up the periwinkle-lined pathway to the main house, hand in hand with Mrs. Robinson. "Ma,'' she said, "do you think mama will be happy again''? All Mrs. Robinson could do was smile, and caress Cassandra's cocoa coloured cheek.

Mrs. Dill was busy putting the finishing touches on the girls choir robes for the Christmas Eve pageant. They were beautiful white satin robes with a wide gold ribbon band at the waist. The sleeves were short sheer white organza, instead of the traditional long sleeved robes.

As a special touch Mrs. Dill had individually hand embroidered tiny golden hands around the border of each of the girls sleeves. She was saving this as a surprise for Cassandra. The girls were going to look like angels. All that was left was for her to hem the gowns.

Cassandra and Mrs. Robinson entered the house through the kitchen. Cassandra could hear her mother singing while she worked a familiar occurrence.

The only thing that she missed was the smell of the Christmas coffee blend that used to permeate the house. The coffee had been filled with cinnamon and allspice. The allspice came from her mothers garden. Mrs. Dill had named it Christmas Coffee because mom had made it for the first time around Christmas, three years before.

Her mom always had this special coffee ready when Cassandra's dad took breaks from his work in the studio.

"There you are Cassandra. I've been looking all over for you'', said mom.

"Where have you been''? Cassandra replied with her lovely smile, "I've been spreading joy around, so that plenty not wanting will abound''.

Mrs. Dill was taken by surprise but smiled instantly. Tears rolled down her cheeks. For that was what her husband always said when he was starting a new project.

Cassandra helped her mother to remember what an inspiration her husband was.

"Cassandra, thank you for that'', replied Mrs. Dill sweetly. "For what, mama?'' "Cassandra you've helped to fill this house again with joy, and I can finally see this house, and me for that matter coming to life again''.

The next night was Christmas Eve. It was traditional for the family to attend the Candlelight Service and Pageant, than come home to decorate the Christmas tree. Cassandra was excited, for tonight was a very special night, and not only for Cassandra's mother.

After her bath Cassandra put on her slip and waited for her mother to bring her robe for the play. She hadn't seen it complete.

Earlier that day Cassandra had been surprised that mom had not put the sleeves on the robe, but yet and had already hemmed it. Usually, hemming was what she did last.

Mrs. Dill entered Cassandra's room with the choir robe draped over her arm.

Cassandra thought that it was the most beautiful robe that she had ever seen.

The robe looked more like a gown, than a choir robe., The girls in the choir would really look like angels. Mrs. Dill laid the robe out on the bed for Cassandra to view completely. Cassandra stared, and tears began to roll down her cheeks.

Cassandra and her mother both had been thinking about the hands on Inspiration. "Oh, Mama'', Cassandra replied with love and admiration filling her voice. "The hands'', she said. Mrs. Dill said, "yes Cassandra, remember that "it is through the hands that we can give gifts one to another''. In that very moment Cassandra and her mother embraced.

At the Candlelight Service that evening, Cassandra and Mrs. Dill were filled with joyous memories. They were happy to have each other and Mr. And Mrs.

Robinson with them.

Images of Mr. Dill filled each of their minds as the advent wreath was lit, and each of them had thoughts of Inspiration. Perhaps Mr. Dill had intended for that legacy to be left as a sign of comfort.

Later that evening as they all stood happily around the Christmas tree. They marvelled at all the white lights, that Pa had so perfectly placed on the tree earlier that afternoon. All that was needed to trim the tree was the ornaments.

Mrs. Dill went to the back of the room where she had the Christmas tree ornaments earlier that day. To her surprise, alongside the ornaments were two wrapped boxes. Attached to the boxes were two white cards that read, To Mom, Merry Christmas.

Mrs. Dill knelt down and began unwrapping the boxes. When she saw the contents of the box she was speechless. Never in her life had she seen ornaments so beautiful. Still not able to say a word Mrs. Dill picked up one of the delicately patterned bay grape leaf ornaments, and marvelled as it lay perfectly nested in the palm of her hand, with the fine gold ribbon twirled around her fingers.

Finally, being able to respond Mrs. Dill said, "Cas... Cassandra "in a trembling and amazed voice, Cassandra, whose heart was filled with so much emotion, managed to say a few words; those ever-reverberating words. "Mom, it is through the hands that we can give gifts one to another''. With these words they hugged and cried.

Antique drawing: "Come now, Santa Claus, I's ready,'' by Thomas Nast.

SHORT STORY COMPETITION CPN