True to Father Mac's word, Nub arrived early the next day with the tent and tables. They stored the tables inside the church's back room, then turned to the tent. With Daniel's help, he worked on placing the poles and guide wires in place. Daniel wasn't sure how they managed to get the tent up with the strong wind sweeping the island. The wind brought tears to his eyes. "Thanks, Nub. I could never have gotten this up on my own."

"You're welcome, Reverend Cooper." Nub smiled gently at the minister. "No problem." He liked helping people, especially his friends. Daniel Cooper was a friend.

"I hope tomorrow is nice. This wind is strong. Do you think it'll rain?" Nub had only been on Hope for four years. This had startled Daniel. He would have sworn that Nub Flanders had lived here all of his life. The islanders accepted Nub whole-heartedly. He wistfully wondered how long it would be before he was as readily accepted as part of Hope Island. Of course, Nub, with his childlike sense of wonder and his ready acceptance of all things good and bad, easily found his way into people's hearts. You just had to like Nub. There was a lot of intelligence underneath his black knit cap that would be easy to dismiss if you didn't pay attention. He was full of surprises and hidden talents. The minister remembered listening to him sing and wished he would do it more often. Nub didn't like singing in front of an audience, though he didn't seem to mind an audience of one. Maybe he could coax Nub into singing again at the Christmas service or perhaps the shared Christmas program the two church choirs were going to perform at the community center. That would be nice.

Nub squinted at the sky, licked a finger and stuck it up in the air. He looked around. "Nah, it'll be fine tomorrow. Nice and sunny." He squinted again. "Next week though... Hope you've got your foul weather gear ready, Reverend." He nodded sagely.

Daniel smiled. "I hope you're right, Nub. I'm just worried about the bazaar." He sighed. "If it rains, it's sure to be a failure."

"Don't worry. Everyone is really looking forward to it. I wonder who won the 'Name The Dog' contest."

"I don't know. Callie hasn't told me yet." Daniel stretched and looked at his hands. For once, he hadn't hurt anything doing something new. It must have been because he was following Nub's directions, instead of figuring it out for himself and doing it. Hurt fingers seemed to be standard for him.

"See you tomorrow, Reverend. I'll come by early and help you get the tables set up."

"Thanks, Nub, I appreciate that. See you tomorrow." Daniel watched the slender blond leave, then went inside. He really needed to finish his sermon. He was going to have to work inside today. It was too windy outside and it was starting to get cool as well. Well, cool for him anyway. He shivered and checked the wood stove. He stoked the fire and went to get  his pad and guitar. Music helped him get his thoughts straight for his sermon. He wondered if it would ever be easy to write one. The minister settled down to work.

Saturday dawned bright and clear. The wind still blew strongly, so Daniel knew they would have to find a way to keep the lighter things from blowing away. He dressed quickly in warm clothes and pulled his leather coat on. He walked outside just in time to greet Nub. "Good morning, Nub!"

"Good morning!" Nub called as he waited by the back door of the church.

Daniel soon had the door open and they carried out the tables, quickly setting them up. No sooner were they done with the tables, then other volunteers arrived. They set about displaying the baked goods and wares for the bazaar. Ruby set up a cash box at the front of the tent, filling it with the various denominations that Daniel had picked up at the bank. She cracked the rolls of coins and they were ready and not a minute too soon as the islanders arrived to explore the offered goods.

The Taylors arrived among the first visitors. Katie and Moss immediately sought out Daniel at the baked goods table. "Hello, Bearand Cooper!"

"Good morning, Kate. Good morning, Moss."

"Is Father Mac here?"

"Not yet," seeing the disappointment on Katie's face, he quickly added, "but I'm sure he'll be here soon." Daniel resolved to call Father Mac and request his presence if he wasn't here.

She nodded acceptance and went off to explore the wonders offered for sale. She looked everything over, her father, Josh 'Andy' Taylor, following closely. After going through once, she returned to see Daniel. "Hello again!"

"Hello Katie! Hello Moss!" Daniel offered them a cookie which was gladly accepted. He looked up and smiled. "Look," the minister pointed at the front of the tent, "Father Mac is here."

"Goody!" Katie said as she swallowed her last bite of cookie. She reached for Daniel's hand. "Can I talk to both of you? Oh! I mean, May I talk to both of you?" She looked at her father. "Alone?"

Daniel glanced at Mister Taylor and he nodded amicably. "All right, Katie." Full of curiosity, he lead Katie over to collect Father Mac. "Father Mac? Thank you for coming."

"Wouldn't have missed it for the world, Daniel. Looks like a good turnout."

"Yes, it does," Daniel agreed as he looked over the crowded tent and other tables. "Father Mac, Katie asked to speak with both of us alone. Would you mind?"

Father Mac smiled down at Katie Taylor. "Not at all."

Daniel lead them over to his home, grateful for the warmth inside the building. They sat on the couch with Kate standing in front of them, suddenly shy. "Now Katie, what can Father Mac and I do for you?" Daniel asked in a gentle voice.

Katie looked earnestly up into his face, then into Father Mac's. "I ... I want it to snow for Christmas!"

Daniel looked curiously at Father Mac. Every child he knew wanted snow for Christmas. Of course, his childhood wishes were ignored because it seldom snowed in southern California, except for the mountains. One year, his mother had taken him there. Mostly to help him over the disappointment of his father not making it home for Christmas. But what did this have to do with them?"

"I ask every year, but it never does. Moss and I... We thought if you asked too, God might listen this time." Seeing the surprised look in their eyes, she hastened on. "I know that he might not. God might have other things, but it doesn't hurt to ask. Does it?"

"No, Katie, it never hurts to ask." Father Mac told her. "As long as you realize that sometimes God can't give us what we ask for, it will be fine. I'll be glad to ask him for snow this Christmas."

"I will too, Katie." Daniel smiled, pleased that Father Mac had agreed and glad that Katie already knew that God's answer might not be the one she wanted. He would hate to disappoint her.

"You're certainly starting early, Katie," the Catholic priest commented.

Katie nodded. "Moss said God gets more wishes at Christmas. He might miss ours if we wait until then. I really, really, really want it to snow."

"Well, Moss is very wise. I think wishes do go up at Christmas time." Father Mac slapped his knees and stood up. "Now, with that out of the way, I really want to see what's on those tables. I need some amusement for the winter too, you know."

"Certainly, Father Mac. Kate, I hope you get your wish." Daniel stood and escorted his visitors out. He lost Katie in the swirl of people, but knew she must be near her father. Father Mac walked beside him as they examined the goods.

"An adorable little girl. Quite precocious."

"Yeah, I certainly didn't think up that tactic when I was a kid."

"Oh? You wished for snow too?"

"Every Christmas, until I got old enough to realize the odds of snow in southern California." Daniel examined a hand knitted Afghan. "I think I still wished then too. I just knew I was likely to be disappointed."

"Everybody wants snow for Christmas. It's that Bing Crosby song, you know. White Christmases! Hmph!"

"And Winter Wonderland and Frosty the Snowman and..."

Father Mac barked a small laugh. "Yes, I see your point. We are doing that Christmas program? Both choirs?"

"Yes, I think it's a wonderful idea. Will one show be enough? Maybe we should do a couple?"

"I was thinking. It might be nice to take the choirs to the mainland. Let them sing at a nursing home or hospital for a sort of warm-up session. A pre-season game, as it were."

"I'll ask the Hope Community Choir, but I'm sure they'll agree. That's a marvelous idea, Father Mac!"

Daniel snagged a baby blanket just as it tried to blow away. "Does anyone do caroling, Father Mac?"

"Caroling? You mean go around and sing outside of people's houses? Why no, we don't." Father Mac picked up a jigsaw puzzle. He asked the price and decided to keep it. "That might be a good idea, though. Yes, I like it. Good idea, Daniel. Now, we just have to work out the schedule."

"You'll find a nursing home for us to sing?"

"Yes, I can do that. One of my parishioners is at a home on the mainland now. That might be a good place for a start. Now, I thought we should start rehearsals in November."

"We better hurry since it is November, Father Mac."

"Yes, I guess we better. Saturdays? Oh for ninety minutes say, until we get things coordinated. Sevenish?"

"Seven on Saturdays. I'll announce it to the choir Sunday, Father. Where should we rehearse?"

"I thought at Our Lady. No offense, Daniel, but we have a bigger rectory and it's closer for most of the members."

"No offense, Father Mac. I'll let them know."

"Is... Nub coming?"

"I've asked him once, but he hasn't answered yet. I'll ask him again."

"Fine voice, fine voice. He would be a wonderful addition."

"We have a lot of fine voices on the island."

Father Mac glanced around and wrapped a hand around Daniel's elbow, guiding him to a quiet corner. "What about Brian?"

"Ah, Brian. Well, I have just the thing for Brian. Call it a solo." Daniel smiled at Father Mac's horrified look. Brian Brewster had a strong set of lungs and was completely tone deaf. He loved singing and performing though. "I was thinking he could do excerpts of  'A Christmas Carol' by Charles Dickens."

"Oh? That's a splendid idea, Daniel, absolutely splendid." The reading should satisfy all parties involved. Brian would get attention and everyone else's ears would be spared.

"God bless us, everyone." Daniel said in an undertone as they reached the baked goods table again. He nodded to Bonita and joined her behind the table. "Thank you for the tent and tables, Father Mac."

"You're welcome." Father Mac examined the goods on the table and selected an assortment of cookies and one cupcake. Just as he was finishing up, Callie came bustling up.

"Come on, Daniel! Time to announce our winner."

"All right, Callie." Daniel obediently followed the reporter to the steps of the church.

Callie Pender called out from the top. "Your attention, everybody! Attention! It's time to announce the winner of the Name The Dog contest. People cheered and moved closer, clustering around the front of the church. As soon as most of the people were gathered there and had quieted down, she handed Daniel a sealed envelope. "Reverend Cooper, if you'll do the honors."

Amused by the touch, Daniel gripped one corner and carefully tore it open edgewise. He pulled out a folded piece of paper and cleared his throat. "And the winner is," he opened the paper up and looked at it, "Nub Flanders for Blue!" He applauded along with the rest of the crowd as a blushing Nub came up to collect his prize.

Callie handed Daniel the prize, then stepped away to point her camera at them. "Look this way and smile! Hold the prize up, Nub! That's good." She snapped a picture of Nub and Daniel holding the prize and shaking hands, then a couple of more. "Great! This will look great on the front page of the Lookout." She pulled a pad out of one of the innumerable pockets of her journalist vest. "Now, Nub, I have some questions."

Daniel smiled in sympathy at Nub, then left him to his fate. So, Blue was the winning name. He wondered why the mother had picked that name. He was glad it hadn't been him though. He would have been really embarrassed to announce himself and have the rest of the island know he'd picked Bluey for a name. Thinking about it, he wondered why he'd picked that name. It had just sort of come out, the minute he saw the toy dog.

Daniel was exhausted by the time the bazaar was over. He looked around at the things that had to be picked up and put away. He really hadn't expected that large of a crowd. It seemed most of the islanders had come and more. Had tourists come as well? There had been several faces he hadn't recognized and some of them the others couldn't identify either. Amazing! He wouldn't have expected tourists to be excited about a church bazaar. He did have to admit some of the items were beautiful and unique - the carvings, the furniture, the handmade toys and quilts and baby blankets and Afghans. He'd seen some quilts he would have loved to have gotten. He'd lingered over one pattern in particular that had a lighthouse in the middle. It fit Hope Island so perfectly. The maker had told him it was her own design. Handmade quilts were well outside of a minister's budget though. Maybe as the church grew and found its footing. Maybe then he could get one. Daniel gave himself a shake. Time to put everything away, fold up the tables and take down the tent.

Nub appeared and so did several others, including Boris, Alex and Dylan, Molly and Kevin, Ruby and Bonita, Harry, Bob and several more fishermen. They set about cleaning up and tidying everything. Even Brian pitched in and helped. After all, it wouldn't do to have a mess for Sunday services. With the friendly, helping hands, it didn't take long to get things back to rights. Daniel thanked them as they left. Nub would see to returning the tent and tables to Father Mac. He sighed and shuffled inside, where it was warm and cozy. Too tired to eat, he took a quick shower and went to bed.

Sunday was as clear as Saturday, but the wind blew more strongly, knocking down loose branches. It blew debris all over the island and the church shuddered under the stronger gusts. Daniel felt like he was going to be blown away as it caught his robe and wrapped it around his legs. Just as quickly, it released its hold and had it flapping behind him like the wings of a giant black bird. Daniel spent most of the day inside as did most of the other islanders. He wondered if the fishermen would be able to go out on Monday as he listened to the wind whistle around the house.

A loud mournful sound woke Daniel on Monday. He looked out of the patio windows at the heavy fog that blanketed the island. The lighthouse's foghorn pierced the quiet easily as its light struggled to pierce the gloom. At least the wind had stopped for the moment. He guessed the fishermen would stay ashore and set about doing his own chores inside. He didn't want to venture outside. He wouldn't be able to see his hand directly in front of his face.

A few hours later, the fog lifted and it turned to rain. Slowly, it increased in intensity, until it was coming down in sheets. The wind returned in gusts, occasionally blowing the rain sideways. Daniel shivered as he watched it. He'd never seen anything like this before. Remembering the flooding of other times, he started to pray for the safety of the islanders. The Hope Community and its parish house were safe from any floods, but some of the residents would be in danger of being washed away if this kept up.