Maximus spent every minute of his spare time reading and daydreaming.   Because this was not normal behaviour for a mouse,  he was often accused of being lazy and uncooperative.  However, Maximus was neither.  He simply  preferred the safety of the imaginary worlds found in his books to the cruelty the other mice doled out because he was different.  

You see, not only was he much smaller and weaker than the other mice, but he always found himself stuttering among them.  The only place he could find to escape from their taunts and laughter was in his own little room surrounded by his books.

In the beginning, the books Maximus owned had been stolen from the children living in the parsonage attached to the main church.  He lived there in a root cellar with a large community of mice.  During the night, when the children slept, he would crawl slowly and carefully up the ancient plumbing fixtures to the main floor of the house. Once he spied a book that interested him, he would clamp his sharp teeth onto one of the corners and drag the book down the back stairs and into his own sleeping chamber.

Maxiumus knew that stealing was wrong. But  he had convinced himself that if he only chose the smallest books, it was not wrong to take them because they would probably not be missed.             

After taking all the small books the children owned, Maximus came up with a daring plan to obtain more books:  he would leave the safety of the parsonage, enter the Village of Omena's main street and find his way to the Library.

He heard the Pastor's children discussing it one evening.  They said the Library was as big as the Church and filled with books!  Every few weeks, they walked the lane adjoining the parsonage down to the main street of the village to take out their alloted six books each.       

There was great danger in this for Maxiumus as he was a house mouse and so had little experience outside of his family's safe little compound. To build up his courage, he re-read Aesop's fable, "The Lion and the Mouse" several times;  even though he was pretty sure there were no lions in the hills of Northern Michigan.

Following the directions he overheard from the children, Maximus set out to find the library.

During his first trip, time seemed to stand still as he raced down the dark streets stopping every now and then to listen for the sound of a predator.

Once he thought he smelled a cat and sat for a long time in the dark underneath a dumpster shaking uncontrollably as his heart pounded nearly out of his chest. 

When he could no longer smell the cat, he took hesitant steps out, looked all around, and dashed for the Gothic structure of the Library. 

Entering through a small crack in the wooden siding he emerged onto the main floor and climbed up a post.  From this perch he could see the whole library;  Maximus was ecstatic!  Making a mental note where the children's section was, he scampered excitedly toward it,

The wee mouse couldn't believe his luck. There were stacks of books as far as he could see!  Finding only one to take was hard - there were so many to choose from. He reluctantly picked out a thin book with just a few pages and dragged it all the way back home.

Following the success of that first trip, Maximus was unstoppable. His book collection grew so large  they were falling off the shelves in his small bedroom.

His mother, who strangely showed no interest in finding out where the books had come from, ordered her son to decide which ones he wanted to keep and to get rid of the rest. She often threatened to do this herself, especially on cleaning days while she grumbled to herself, "Why can't he be like the other mice?"  

Maximus wished he could be a more social mouse; but when he tried to offer an opinion, he would stutter and the other mice would laugh.  Rather than face their jeers, he stayed in his room alone surrounded by his beloved books

It wasn't his fault that his family members were not readers.  They were all doers and firmly believed that this was the best way to be.  His father built mouse-sized furniture and his mother cleaned and held tea parties.

One night he heard his parents discussing their concerns for their son's future.  His father made no attempt to keep his voice low so his words carried down the narrow hallway, "I just don't get the youngster.  Why is he content to just sit and read?  I need help with the furniture business but he shows no interest in it at all!" 

His mother chimed in, "I hope you're not insinuating this is my fault.  He certainly doesn't take after anyone in my family - except maybe weird Aunt Geneva.  Hardly anyone knew her or cared to!  Anyway, that's two generations removed on my mother's side."

Maximus pulled the curtain over his bedroom doorway as a  tear slid down from the corner of his eye. He couldn't bear to hear any more. They don't understand me and I don't understand them.

Maximus stood on a chair and reached onto the top shelf of his bookcase, bringing down several of his favorite mouse tales.  Nestled down in his blankets, Maximus began turning the worn pages of 'Josephine The Singer', 'The Mouse and the Motorcycle', and 'The Tale of Despereaux'. 

At last, he settled on his all-time favorite: 'The Adventures of Moustachio, the great Pirate King'.  The edges were ragged and pages grimy from constant reading.  This just made the book all the more special to him.

Blowing out the candle, he snuggled down into his blankets and lying on his book he drifted off to sleep. Like he had so many times before, Maximus dreamt he was a pirate on a massive galleon with sails soaring and snapping in the salty air.

He had a patch over one eye and even a wooden leg but this did not keep him from winning sword fights with masterful strokes of the blade.

Battling enemy pirate ships, he could smell the smoke from the cannons firing and feel the pitching of the ship and shaking of the deck's timbers beneath his feet.  He could even feel his moustache twitch violently as he shouted orders while keeping his ship steady. 

The dreams always ended with him victorious and surrounded by his crew - their sword tips raised and touching as they swore allegiance to their Pirate King.

He never had a problem with stammering or feeling awkward in these dreams.  He was in charge and there wasn't anything he couldn't accomplish.             

******

That night, Maximus crept silently through the upper rooms of the parsonage searching for crumbs fallen by the children's beds from their evening snacks -  he liked the hazelnut cookies the best -  when suddenly, he stopped dead in his tracks.

There was a light on in the children's bed chamber!  Maximus knew it was the middle of the night; the clock had struck three bells.  Now, very curious, the mouse entered the room through a knot in the floor board. A strange site was waiting there.

The pastor of the church, Horace Deering, was kneeling beside the bed of his youngest daughter Emily. Maximus made his way slowly forward, careful to keep hidden in the shadows underneath the bed, and listened to the pastor's words.

The poor man had his head in his hands and he seemed to be pleading to for help, "Dear God, Thanksgiving is coming and I'm trying to find something in this year for which to be thankful. I...I feel like an imposter because my faith is weak.  You chose to call my wife Sarah, to your side and I'm trying to accept that she's now resting safely in your arms. But my children and I feel the weight of this loss, especially little Emily who cries for her mother nearly every night."   

There was a powerful stirring in Maximus's heart for he could relate to little Emily feeling lost and alone.  Many nights he'd gone to bed with his own sad, heavy feelings.

Pastor Horace continued, "I have pledged my life to your service Lord, but I am going to need heaven's help to make this Thanksgiving meaningful for my parishioners." 

Minutes passed. Eventually the pastor rose from his knees and with heavy steps left the room closing the door softly behind him.

Maximus's appetite now lost, he scampered back to his home to think about the events of the night.
He wished he could talk to another mouse about this but he'd get into big trouble if anyone found how close he'd gotten to the humans.

The words of Pastor Horace kept running through his mind alongside what his parents would likely say about his strong desire to help the pastor in some way.

"Humans and mice are sworn enemies."
"Their campaigns to wipe us off the face of the earth are never-ending."
"They deserve to suffer! 
"Just remember how many of your ancestors died horrible deaths in traps designed to snap their necks!"

For the next couple of nights, Maximus had trouble sleeping.  He woke up having little memory of what he had dreamt but  feeling anxious; it felt like he was missing something important.

To make matters worse, one of Maximus's cousins had found a burlap bag filled with bird seed on an upper shelf of the church pantry.  A feast was planned to celebrate this great discovery. Not only were there enough seeds to cover their winter food supply but beds could be made from the burlap.  Maximus's father looked at him in disappointment.  He didn't have to say a word for Maximus to know that he wished it was his own son who had made the great discovery.

The lonely mouse found himself in a corner picking at his food watching everyone enjoy themselves at the feast.  He felt even more detached than usual. While the other mice were making merry, he slipped unnoticed to his bed where he tossed and turned until, exhausted, he fell asleep.

******

Maximus suddenly felt very cold. He opened his eyes to find himself standing at the edge of a forest thick with trees.  Overhead, the moon was just a sliver, almost invisible, beneath a grey film.  

"I'm no longer in my bed, but where am I?  This place is strange and frightening."    

From above, Maximus heard even before he saw it, gigantic wings that cast an even darker shadow over him. Panicked  he found he could not move!  In his terror, his feet were rooted to the spot.. He felt sharp talons close about his body.

Squeaking helplessly, Maximus struggled, but the taloned fist held him tightly.  The bird of prey's movements shifted upwards and Maximus squeezed his eyes shut against the horror he imagined was waiting for him.    

Suddenly, the bird loosed its hold on him and Maximus went tumbling through the air.  He landed on something soggy, but firm. He held himself completely still as he shivered in the darkness.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, one by one, to assess the situation.  He'd landed on a mossy branch near the top of a birch tree.  Sensing he wasn't alone, Maximus looked up to find a gigantic bald eagle resting on the branch above, his unblinking eyes scanning the forest beyond.

"In your dreams, little mouse, you imagine yourself to be a great  hero who can vanquish your enemies with a swipe of your sword."  The eagle's words echoed in the mouse's brain.

Maximus blushed in the darkness, a little ashamed that someone knew about his childish fancies.        

"I have been charged by a 'Being' of great love and beauty to grant your secret wish to be a hero."

Maximus could not believe what he was hearing.  "I dddon't know what a mmmouse ccould do that a creature of your sssize couldn't.  Why would this BBBeing choose me; I'm jjjust a little mmmouse, who pppretends to be a hero." 

 "It is precisely because you are a little mouse that God is calling on you for help.  This is a job that only someone your size could carry out."

"God wwwants help from me?  But, I..I'm really not gggood at anything.  Just ask mmmy parents. MMMost of the time I'm afraid.  What if I fffail?"

"It took great courage to leave the safety of your home and risk going to the library for your books.  There, despite your fear, you acted."

"You know aaabout that?"

"God knows about everything Maximus.  He knows that you feel small and insignificant, but he wants you to know that all His creatures are loved and important.  And in this situation, only you can provide the help that is needed."

Suddenly the air around him was filled with small dancing lights and between his teeth a long white tail feather had materialized.

"Take this feather and place it under the child Emily's pillow.  By doing this you will not only help heal a  young father's grief and bring peace to his family but you will finally be a real hero."

In the blink of an eye, Maximus found himself back in his small bed. He spat out the feather and stared at it.  Seeing it there on his blanket, he had no choice but to believe. Wasting no time, he plucked up the feather between his teeth, hurried upstairs to little Emily's bedroom, scampered up her bedpost and burrowed beneath her pillow. There was a brief moment of fear when he felt the child's hand reach underneath, but he managed to leave the feather and make his way out of the room before Emily sat upright and began shouting for her father.

Maximus was hiding in the knot in the floorboard when pastor Horace came running into Emily's room.

"What is it, dear?  Did you have another bad dream?" 

"No Papa.  I had a great dream.  It was Mama.  She came to me Papa.  She was holding me in her arms and we were riding on the back of a large bird with sharp claws. He was so huge and I was afraid of him.  But Mama said I should be a big girl and listen to her very carefully."

Maximus could hardly contain himself, he was so excited.  Surely this had to be the same Eagle of his dream!

Emily continued, "Mama told me that she was always watching over me, just like when she was here with us on earth.  And that I had to trust that we would be together again."

Pastor Horace remained silent at these words.

Maximus could see his face, though;  and there were tears on his cheeks.

"Oh Papa don't cry.  I know you think this is just my imagination.  But mama said that I should show you what is beneath my pillow and that you would understand what it meant." Emily reached beneath her pillow and gently lifted the white feather hiding there.  "Here Papa, this is a message from Mama and from God." 

Taking the feather into his own hand and looking at it in wonder, Pastor Horace hugged his daughter  tightly.

A feeling of peace washed over Maximus.  From that night forward, Maximus never stuttered.  He was confident among his family and friends. And though he could never tell them why he was different, he knew in his heart that it was because God had trusted him to help with something very important.  Though tiny, he had been given the grace to accomplish something great.

******


Maximus scampered back to his room and began dragging book, by book, back to its rightful owner.  Each time he dropped one off where it belonged, he felt a sense of relief; an invisible weight was lifted from him.  He made a promise then and there he would never steal another thing--big or small. 

It took Maximus several nights to return each book, but he did just that - even the ones to the library.

Several days later, Maximus became aware of angry rumblings among his relatives.The entire mouse community was in a state of uproar.  Apparently there was going to be an evening service at the church. This was most unusual. The church traditionally held them during the day when all the mice were sleeping.  

Maximus believed something significant was behind this deviation from the normal and felt strongly that he must be there.  He stepped forward and spoke with confidence to the entire mouse clan.

"I don't know why the service has been changed to an evening but I want to assure you all that I will find out.  I would suggest that everyone remain here in the parsonage while the service is going on.  I will go into the church and return here immediately to warn you if our nest should be in danger."

Maximus's parents rose up tall, shoulders back and nodded, "That's my son. Yes. That's my boy."
     
The following evening Maximus watched as the parishioners climbed the snow covered pathway to the church on the hill.  After the doors of the church closed,  Maximus slid under the door and made his way up into the choir loft. 

Pastor Horace and his three children sat in chairs facing the congregation.  Pride swelled in the little mouse's heart as he noted the shy smile on the Emily's face.  She wore a red satin dress and looked as beautiful as any princess in a book. 

Pastor Horace rose and approached the podium.  He still had sadness in his smile, but his features were peaceful as he began to speak. "I thank all of you for coming tonight, on the eve of Thanksgiving.  As many of you know, my wife passed away this year.  The loss has been terribly difficult for my children and myself.  I confess freely that my own faith has been severely threatened by this event and I felt mocked by God reading the words of Jesus's admonition to have the faith of child."

The young pastor paused to swallow a few times in an effort to maintain his composure.  With a firm voice he continued, "While I was deep in my own despair, God reached out through a child whose faith remained pure, my child Emily."  

The pastor turned around and looked at her tenderly before continuing,  "God reached his hand to us and gave our family a sign of his compassion and endless love. In honor of that miraculous event, I ask you to stand now and recite with me our opening prayer,  the words of Psalm 91:1,4."

A chorus of voices that reached for the rafters began:  "(He is)  Almighty...He shall cover you with His feathers, and under His wings you shall take refuge now..."     

Maximus could no longer hear the words.   Eyes bright with emotion, he believed that just for a moment little Emily was looking directly at him and in his mind he could hear her words, Thank you sweet prince for your great courage.  My Mama has returned to me; and shall never, ever leave again.