By Debra Bruch

"Ow! Dang it!"

"Hey! No cussing, boy."

"I hurt my hand. Besides, dang ain't a cuss word, Big Jess."

"It is in my book. Show some respect for where you are, Philip."

"This ol' place? That's stupid!" At that moment, sounds of squeaks and squeals came from above in anticipation. "Come on, Philip!" called Allison. "Where are you? It's Sunday!" Philip turned to the older mouse woman with his eyes asking to go.

"Your grandfather is talking to you," said Mother Mouse.

Philip looked at Mother Mouse who was quietly straightening up their mouse house and great old Big Jess and wondered why his mouse life has been so mean to him. He really didn't feel very good right then. His heart hurt. All of a sudden, the bell began to ring. And just as sudden Philip became defiant. "It's started and I don't wanna miss it. I'm outa here!"

Philip tried to run by, but Big Jess grabbed him by his shirt collar. "Hold on, boy! They ring that bell fifty times. You have time to show some respect."

"It's all right, Papa. Run along, Philip. Just hold on to that rope real tight and don't get hurt."

Big Jess let him go and Philip was off like a flash. But at the hole door, he turned around and blurted out, "He ain't my grandpa!" And he disappeared.

"Don't let the humans see you!" called Mother Mouse as she heard him skitter up. She tried to continue her work, but Big Jess sat there, silent, and stared at her. Finally, she gave up, dropped her rag, and sat down. "He needs time," she sighed.

"He needs his britches warmed," he replied sourly.

Mother Mouse pondered the situation for a moment. "Papa," she said. "When I was little I sat on your lap and you taught me that the best a mouse can be is a mouse with compassion and tolerance. I think Philip needs that now. He needs you to be the best you can be."

Big Jess nodded. "I know, child. I know," he sighed. "You're a better mouse than me though. It seems as if you would be better to help the kid."

"No, Papa. He needs a grandpa. He needs you. Our Philip needs a crusty old mouse who's brutally true to himself and can handle a feisty little kid."

"Thanks."

"No, really. We can't forget that Philip watched his family wash away in the storm and never return. Adopting him was the only thing we could do. Now he needs to feel like he belongs here. That he's one of us. He needs to adopt us just as much as we've adopted him."

"Humph," snorted Big Jess. "What do you expect ME to do about it?"

Mother Mouse got up and smiled. "Don't be daft. You know exactly what to do." At that, Mother Mouse picked up her rag and left to spend some time for herself. Big Jess sat and pondered for a while. Finally, he knew. He knew what to do. "Heritage," he said to the air. "The kid needs his heritage."