Janua recalled the day early in her woodland ministry. She’d apprehended a Misfit who was stealing two chickens, thankfully before the farmer did, and so probably saved the thief’s life. While leading the Misfit to the High Wood with his arms bound by rope, she was met by her human friend, the lean, dark-eyed ranger Morris. The quiet Morris had shyly presented her with a spyglass he commissioned for her birthday. It was constructed in the majestic human city of Westcliff, and bore intricate imagery in sculpted bronze of leaves, vines and the cosmos. It was the most beautiful object Janua had ever seen, but that it was a gift from a man she admired made it all the more special to her. They’d eaten a small cake Morris’s sister had baked, sharing some with her Misfit captive.
So this was that same Misfit, now older and much fatter, Janua mused. She was stuck for something to say. Lealin’s selfless spirit was perhaps taking hold in the hearts of the Misfits as Janua hoped since she began living here.
The Misfit, with its little shirt and no pants, hobbled toward her, cake extended. Janua knew she dared not eat it, but her heart soared. “Why are you doing this?” She asked, while accepting the cake.
“Misfit knows girl and human give a gift on their day. Misfit remembers!”
“How did you know where I lived?” She had never shown anyone her home.
“Misfit follows! Misfit remembers her day!”
Janua took the cake and smiled. “Well… this is very nice. I’m surprised. Usually you don’t like being nice.”
The Misfit bowed, and smiled. It looked vicious to Janua, but she tried to recall Lealin’s teaching to respect differences between people, and that good resided innately in the hearts of all creatures. The Misfit backed away, and as he disappeared into the brush, he said, “Misfits can remember, and can learn!”