Walker helped the other older children collect the dishes and wash them up with heated water on the campfire. They left them upside down on a board to dry. Sophia played a game of hide and seek with the other children in the moonlight. When the dishes were done everyone came back to the fire-ring where the sacred fire crackled.

With a twinkle in his eye, Grandpa said,

“Knock knock.”

“Who’s there?” they all replied.

“Who.”

“Who who?”

He looked around. “Do I hear an owl?”

They hooted in laughter. Then Grandpa said to the teens, “Abigail and Josiah, you built the fire-ring tonight. It’s strong and secure. Best one yet. Well done.”

Betsy said, “Tell us a story, Grandpa.”

“All right. Let’s see. Once there was a stone named Rocky. He sat like a lump in the road all by himself. He said to himself, “I am really lonely and bored.”

Abigail interrupted and said, “Grandpa, I thought you said he was a rock, not lumber.”

Grandpa smiled and shook his finger at her in a pretend scolding. “I said ‘he was bored’, not ‘he was a board’.”

He continued. “So, there he was, bored. Wishing he had family. Along comes a girl who really liked building with rocks. She collected a pile by the lonely stone and cleared the sand off a flat part of ledge. She began to make a wall on the foundation. She made four walls. She built up tall sides. She even found a way to make a roof of stones. Then she went home to her supper.

“That night Rocky made friends with Mica, Schist, Bowlda, Igney, Meta, Sedi and many more, nestled close together. They became a family. The girl came back and put a lantern among them so they served as a guidepost on the trail for people on a journey. The end.

He continued, “The King is building all his people into a temple made of stones. Whenever we gather together we share the stories of the things he does to protect, guide, and feed us. The light drew us to him and lights our way.” said Grandpa.

“With bread and wine we remember how he freed us from slavery.” He took a warm biscuit, pinched off a small piece for himself and passed it around. Each did the same and held it, gazing into the fire or looking up at the moon. When they each had a piece, they raised their bread to the starry sky and said, “We remember the King who died to free us.” They ate together.

Then Grandpa poured wine into a cup and took a sip. They each sipped and wiped the edge with the clean cloth that came with it. He passed the cup to his right and it went around the ring. When it returned to him he held it up and they said, together,  “We remember the King who rose again and is alive forever!”

Grandpa said, “Remember, we are all living stones shaped by his hands into a house that will last. Sleep well.”  Grandma got up and stretched and Betsy yawned.

Walker was thinking how good it felt to be full and safe with others around him. He felt something nudging him over and over and realized he has nearly fallen asleep right as he sat and that Sophia was poking him rather painfully in his shoulder.

“Ow! What?!” he said

“Walker! Say the riddle!”

“Seek the burning embers where 
the living waters run;
A house of stone remembers there 
the death of the Living One.”

“Oh oh oh!!” he shouted. “It’s here! It’s right here!”

Priscilla ran to his side. “What is here? Is it a snake? What’s the matter?”

Walker then told the rest of his story. How he came through the town of Cold River. How they were in danger of the Wolf’s army because their sacred fire was cold. How he volunteered to ask the king to send a hero to bring back sacred fire. And that he was given a riddle.

“The riddle is ‘Seek the burning embers…’” He pointed to the fire. “Right there! ‘Where the living waters run…’ The living waters ran when we were talking about the King! ‘A house of stone…’ Just like Grandpa said, we’re the house of stone. ‘…remembers there the death of the Living one.’ The King is the Living One and we did that with the bread and cup!”

“But,” he sat down slowly. “How do I get the fire to them? What am I supposed to do?”