Ch10-Spirit of the Buttercup

CHAPTER TEN Spirit of the Buttercup Father Laurent sat down at the table and opened his book of flowers. Jack and Annie looked over the monk's shoulder. Even Barry stepped closer to the table and pushed his giant head under Father Laurent's elbow to look at the book. The monk carefully turned the rough linen pages. The pages were blank, but pressed between

them were leaves and flowers. Father Laurent gently held up a cluster of tiny pink flowers. The flowers were completely flat and dry, but they had kept all their petals and color. "These are Androsace alpina. That's their scientific name. Their popular name is Alpine rock-jasmine," said the monk. "Several summers ago, I found these hidden among mountain rocks." "Nice," said Annie. Jack held his breath. Could there be a white and yellow flower in the book? Father Laurent turned the page and very carefully picked up a dark golden flower. "This is Caltha palustris, better known as marsh marigold," he said. "I found this two years ago in the southern Alps." "Lovely," said Annie. Father Laurent turned the page again. He held up a dried white flower. "Cerastium fontanum, the mouse-ear chickweed," the monk said. "Its tiny petals look like the ears of a mouse." "Cute," said Annie. "Yes," said Father Laurent. He gently closed the cloth-covered book. "Since you like flowers so

much, I assume you like butterflies, too. Let me show you my favorites." He started to stand up. "No, wait, please," said Jack. He tried to keep his voice steady. "Do you happen to have a white and yellow flower in that book?" Father Laurent frowned. "Hmm… let me see. Oh, yes, of course." He opened the book again and turned the pages until he found what he was looking for. He carefully held up a flower with white petals and a yellow center. It shone in the firelight, as if it were still alive.

"Ranunculus glacialis, the glacial buttercup," said the monk. "One of the highest flowering plants in the Alps. A perfect specimen! I found it not far from our monastery just last summer." "That's it," whispered Jack. "That's exactly what we're looking for!" "You're looking for the glacial buttercup?" Father Laurent asked. "Why?" "Why?" said Jack. He wasn't sure what to say.

"Uh, we have some friends who really love flowers," said Annie. "And when we were heading out to do our research in the Alps, they asked us to please try to find one of those and bring it back to them." "I see," said the monk. "Well, then allow me to give you this glacial buttercup to take back to your friends. I'm sure I can find another later in the summer. It is the least I can do to thank you for the wonderful work you did with Barry today." "Thank you!" said Jack. "Do you know if the glacial buttercup has any special meaning?" said Annie. Father Laurent squinted at the flower. "Well, throughout history many flowers have had special meanings," he said. "Let me think." "Wait, please," said Jack. He quickly pulled out his notebook and pencil. "Okay. Ready." "If I recall, buttercups stand for childhood, the carefree, open spirit of childhood," said Father Laurent. "Such a joyful spirit can brighten even the most bleak and barren places." Jack quickly wrote:

Jack looked at Father Laurent. "That sounds like the spirit of a dog," he said. He stroked Barry's ear. It felt like warm velvet. Father Laurent smiled. "Yes. Yes, it does," he said. "Dogs and children share a common spirit. I do agree with that." Jack and Annie looked at each other. "Well, I guess we'd better leave now," said Jack. He put away his pencil and notebook. "Can you not stay another night?" asked Father Laurent. "It will be dark soon." "That's okay. We can find our way home, even in the dark," said Jack. "And where is home?" asked the monk. "Oh… it's down the mountain a ways," said Annie. "It's not exactly in the first village you come to, but just outside that village, you know, before you see the church steeple. There you turn left onto a winding path and then go awhile, and