Willow creek learning center: Willow Creek Learning Center – Daycare in Youngstown, OH

Willow Creek Children’s House — HAGGARD CHILDCARE RESOURCES

Willow Creek Children’s House is the newest of our programs and recently opened in September 2022. We are excited to offer the community a Montessori learning environment designed to meet the needs of Infant, Toddler, and Preschool age children. Children are encouraged to explore a wide variety of age-appropriate, hands-on activities, all at their own pace.

Willow Creek Children’s House
9700 Lake City Way NE
Seattle, WA 98115

(206) 376-4477

Email:

[email protected]

Our philosophy is based on Maria Montessori’s principles for early care and education. We believe that children grow and learn best in a warm, nurturing, well-organized environment. Our teachers are sensitive and respectful to each child’s individuality. We welcome a multicultural community of families and are committed to supporting this diversity in all areas of our early childhood program.  

We are a member of the American Montessori Society and will soon begin our participation with Washington State’s Early Achievers program. 

Location
Willow Creek Children’s House is located in the Meadowbrook neighborhood.  For more information, please contact the Haggard Childcare Resource at (206) 523-1391.

Program
Our Preschool and Toddler programs are based on the Montessori Method, implemented and nurtured by trained staff.  Our Infant program uses the RIE philosophy.  We strive to maintain a 3:1 staff to child ratio with Infants, 5:1 with Toddlers, and 10:1 with Preschoolers.

Our operating hours are Monday through Friday, 7:00am to 6:00pm.

Wait Pool

Wait Pool Application can be downloaded here.

There is a one time application fee per family of $100.

Application fee can be paid here.

Or mail a check payable to HCR and mailed to 9705 Sand Point Way NE, Seattle, WA 98115

Annual Calendar
A year-round program with the exception of federal holidays, three in-service days, three one-week closures at the end of August, December and will we follow the SPS Spring break in April.   Click here to view the 2022-2023 calendar.

Calendar events are tentative based on COVID-19.

Nutrition
A morning and afternoon snack, as well as a nutritious homemade hot lunch prepared by our onsite Chef are served daily.

Tuition (2023-2024)
Tuition is paid in twelve equal payments due at the beginning of each month. The first month’s tuition is due when an enrollment contract is submitted.

Willow Creek Learning Center Inc

About the Provider

Description: Willow Creek Learning Center Inc is a Licensed Group Child Care in Menomonee Falls WI, with a maximum capacity of 109 children. This child care center helps with children in the age range of 6 Week(s) – 9 Year(s). The provider does not participate in a subsidized child care program.

Additional Information: 3 Stars 3 Stars 3 Stars 3 Stars 3 Stars 3 Stars

Program and Licensing Details

• License Number:
  2002271
• Capacity:
  109
• Age Range:
  6 Week(s) – 9 Year(s)
• YoungStar Rating:
  3
• Enrolled in Subsidized Child Care Program:
  No
• District Office:
  Wisconsin Dept of Children and Families (DCF)- Child Care Regulation and Licensing
• District Office Phone:
  608-266-9314 (Note: This is not the facility phone number.)

Inspection/Report History

Kiddie Academy of Oviedo – Oviedo F…

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Kiddie Academy of Oviedo – Oviedo FL Child Care Facility

Where possible, ChildcareCenter provides inspection reports as a service to families. This information is deemed reliable,
but is not guaranteed. We encourage families to contact the daycare provider directly with any questions or concerns,
as the provider may have already addressed some or all issues. Reports can also be verified with your local daycare licensing office.

Violation Date	Rule Number	Rule Summary
2019-10-28	Licensing	No violations found ***
2019-04-04	Licensing	No violations found ***
2018-10-18	Licensing	No violations found ***
2018-09-13	251.07(6)(k)1.	Health Examination – Children Under Age 2
Description: Child #1 did not have documentation of an updated health exam every six months after the initial exam.
2018-03-09	251.06(5)(a)	Condition Of Premises
Description: Ceiling tiles in the Shark room were observed to be stained and bulging as a result of previous water damage.
2018-03-09	251.07(6)(f)6.	Current Authorizations For Medications On Premises
Description: Medication was observed in a classroom, however, the parental authorization was not located.
2018-03-09	251.07(6)(k)1.	Health Examination – Children Under Age 2
Description: Child #1, 2, 3, and 4 did not have an updated health examination at least once every 6 months following the initial exam.
2018-03-09	251.05(1)(L)1.	Staff Health Examination – Requirements
Description: Staff A did not have a health examination on the required form. Staff B did not have a health examination dated within 12 month prior to start date.
2017-08-17	251.06(2)(d)	Access To Materials Potentially Harmful To Children
Description: Materials potentially harmful were accessible to children. Plastic bags were accessible in the bottom drawer of a storage container in the bathroom between the Rainbow Fish and Shark rooms. Two plastic bags of garbage were observed accessible to children in the Rainbow Fish room.
2017-08-17	251.06(9)(d)2.a.	Food Storage – Dry Food
Description: Dry foods in the rainbow fish room were not properly stored. Open bags of animal crackers and marshmallows were observed in the cabinet, not stored in a zip-type closure bag or food grade containers.
2017-08-17	251.09(1)(k)	Infant & Toddler – Bedding
Description: A blanket, located in an infant’s crib, was not tucked tightly under the mattress and kept away from the child’s face.
2017-08-17	251.09(1)(j)	Infant & Toddler – Crib Mattresses & Coverings
Description: Mattress coverings in the Angel Fish room were not snug fitting at the time of licensing visit.
2017-08-17	251.09(3)(a)2.	Infant & Toddler – Food & Formula Brought From Home
Description: A container of infant cereal brought from home was labeled but not dated.
2017-08-17	251.04(2)(L)	Monitoring Results, Stipulations, Conditions, Exceptions Posted
Description: A Notice of Order, issued April 19, 2017, was not posted at the time of licensing review. Order was found and posted during licensing visit.
2017-08-17	251.07(4)(b)	Naps Or Rest Periods – Awake Children
Description: Children who woke up from rest time in the Shark room were not permitted to get up and have quiet time with equipment and activities.

If you are a provider and you believe any information is incorrect, please contact us. We will research your concern and make corrections accordingly.

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90,000 Reviews for the film “Willow Crick”

Reviews

A couple of lovers come to a giant National Park, famous for the fact that it was once here that the legendary “Bigfoot” was shot, or, in my opinion, a snow person

12.08 .2014
Text:
Boris Khokhlov

Trailer

Creators and actorsAbout the filmReviewFilm in collectionsSimilarStillsTrailersPosters

Boris Khokhlov
Author of film.ru since 2013
735 materials

Willow Creek

Willow Creek

, 2013

horror
/ USA

Director:
Bob Goldthwaite

Cast:
Bryce Johnson Alexi Gilmour

A couple of lovers arrive at a giant national park, famous for the fact that the legendary Bigfoot, or, in our opinion, Bigfoot, was once filmed here. Locals insistently advise inquisitive researchers not to meddle in the thicket, but they do not listen to anyone and head to the historical site with a camera at the ready – what if they are also lucky?

Gone are the days when Bobcat Goldwaite was known solely as the noisy Private Zed of the Police Academy – now he appears in front of the camera only in episodes and is mainly engaged in directing. Moreover, he alternates shooting entertainment programs (Jimmy Kimmel’s show, for example, his handiwork) with the production of full-length films of various genres – there is in his filmography the tragicomedy “The Best Dad” (2009) with Robin Williams and the black satire “God Save America” (2011), and now there is a real horror movie, and even in the style of “found films”.

It is almost impossible to say something new in this genre now, in the middle of the 10s – all innovators have remained in the past decade, however, from time to time quite decent films appear, remarkable at least for the fact that they skillfully set genre mechanisms in motion. Willow Creek is exactly that kind of movie. What will happen to the “young naturalists” is clear from the first frames, as well as everything else – more or less watched viewers can even approximately guess at what minute of the film the pleasure trip will turn into a battle for survival for the main characters.

Nevertheless, the film “works” quite confidently. In its first half – as a rather fascinating and witty description of the town, built around a non-standard landmark (giant burgers in the shape of a giant foot, “monuments” to bigfoot at every turn, up to giant frescoes featuring hairy monsters), and then – as a very effective suspense -a horror movie that regularly pumps up tension not even with relatively modern, but with the most old-school methods of the Blair Witch Project.

Thus, the key scene of the film is an 18-minute episode (with only one cut-and-paste, which may not have been there yet – the lights just turn off at one moment), in which the characters wake up in the middle of the night in a tent and with an ever-increasing fearfully listen to strange sounds outside. What begins with chuckles and encouraging each other, slowly develops into bewilderment, anxiety, and then into genuine animal horror.

Yes, Willow Creek suffers from a number of problems typical of the genre – for example, at some moments the characters should still turn off the camera, or at least point it not at their faces (with the lights on!), but to where the suspicious rustles. But these are not even full-fledged problems, but so, “jambs”, small burrs on a completely smooth and verified narrative. Separately, I would like to praise the successful casting – the leading actors are not among the famous ones, but each of them has several dozen small roles behind them, so they definitely know how to play.

Text: Boris Khokhlov

Read online The Burden of Silence by Heather Gudenkauf – Litres

Dedicated to my parents,

to Milton and Patricia Schmid

Everyone who gets here understands that this is a true map of the world, where you are in the very center and where there is a place for all of us.

Brian Andreas

Prologue

Anthony

Louis and I notice you almost at the same time. At the edge of the forest, behind the American lindens – their sugary-sweet aroma will always remind me of today – your pink nightgown flickers. Last night you put it on before going to bed. I breathe a sigh of relief. I draw your attention to your cut legs, dirty knees and the silver chain that you tightly clench in your fist. I reach out to you, I want to pick you up in my arms, hug you tightly, cling to your sweaty head. Never again will I wish you to break your silence, never again, even to myself, will I ask you to speak. You are back! But you run past like you don’t see me and stop next to Luis. I think: “You don’t even see me, the whole point is that Louis is a deputy sheriff … Smart, you do everything right.” Louis bends down and I watch you spellbound. Your lips are moving. You pronounce just one word – it flies out of you easily, effortlessly. Although you have been silent for many years, your voice is not hoarse and uncertain, but resonant and bold. You utter one single word – the first in three years. I immediately grab you in my arms and cry – I feel light, happy and sad at the same time. Petra’s father slowly sinks to his knees. I don’t understand why you called… Okay, whatever. I don’t care. The important thing is that you finally spoke.

Callie

Callie tossed and turned in bed. Her room was suffocatingly hot—August can be tough in Iowa. The stuffiness pressed on the girl. She had long shed her white blue bedspread and sheets, her light pink nightgown pulled up to her waist. The window, although open, was covered with a net, not the slightest breath of breeze penetrated through it. There were milky-yellow streaks of moonlight on the floor, like the dim glow of a street lamp. The girl was awakened by a rustle downstairs in the kitchen: her father was going fishing. Callie heard his booming, confident footsteps, which were very different from her mother’s quick, mincing gait and Ben’s hesitant tread. Feeling a strong pressure in the lower abdomen, she sat down among the crumpled sheets and soft toys and moved her legs, trying to delay the moment when she had to run to the toilet. There was only one toilet in their house, and it was located on the first floor. Almost half of the pink-tiled room was occupied by an old-fashioned bathtub on white bent legs with chipped enamel. Callie didn’t want to walk down the creaky stairs and sneak past the kitchen, where her father was probably sitting, drinking his bitter coffee and rummaging through the toolbox. But little by little I wanted more and more. Callie shifted restlessly on the bed and looked around. Despite the semi-darkness, she could see her school supplies. She’s going to second grade soon! She and her mother bought all the essentials in advance. Now she has the best, brand new, not yet sharpened colored pencils, transparent covers for notebooks, smooth erasers that smell of rubber. Next to the pencils were four tear-off pads with multi-colored covers and a box of sixty-four color markers (twenty-four colors were on the mandatory list, but my mother understood that this was not enough).

Callie loved school, although for her learning meant more than just joy. She liked the smell of school, the smell of old books and chalk. Walking to the school bus stop, she loved to rake in the fallen autumn leaves with her new shoes and listen to them rustle. She also loved teachers – all of them. Although Callie was often discussed at teachers’ councils and meetings. All of them – the director, doctors, speech therapists, primary school teachers, methodologists, child psychologists, social workers – were worried about one question: why does Callie not speak? She was called differently: a girl with developmental disabilities, autistic, not like everyone else. Callie knew that her “deviation” was called “selective mutism,” or “selective muteness.” She was neither dumb nor mentally retarded. She read well to herself and understood books intended for middle school children.

Ms. Monroe, her first grade zero teacher, an energetic lady with straight brown hair and a hoarse, smoky voice that didn’t fit in with the looks of an expensive private college graduate, thought Callie was just being shy. Callie was noticed in December, and then only after she had to be taken to the medical room to change for the second time in a week.

The school nurse, Mrs. White, gave Callie extra socks, panties, and sweatpants.

– Callie, why didn’t you ask to go to the bathroom? Mrs White asked. Her voice was low and kind.

No response. Callie, as always, looked at her with wide eyes, without any expression.

“Go to the bathroom and change,” the nurse ordered. – Yes, wash yourself better!

When the girl left, Mrs. White leafed through her magazine. She carefully recorded in small, neat handwriting the date and time the children came to her and the causes of ailments: a sore throat, a stomach ache, scratches, bites. Since August 29, the first day of class, Callie’s name has appeared in the magazine nine times. Next to each of her visits was the code PM – “problems with urination.” Mrs. White approached Ms. Monroe, who brought Callie to the medical office.

– Michelle, Callie has peed nine times since the beginning of the year. Mrs. White paused for Miss Monroe to answer, but the teacher remained silent. Then Mrs. White asked, “Does she go to the bathroom during recess?”

“I don’t know,” Miss Monroe replied, her booming voice perfectly audible to Callie behind the bathroom wall. – Actually, I don’t remember. In any case, she has plenty of time to go to the toilet during breaks … and even if she wants to during the lesson, she can always ask.

– I’ll have to call her mother. Have her take Callie to the doctor. Maybe she has something with her bladder or kidneys,” said Mrs. White dryly and decisively. At school, she was appreciated for her professionalism. She should be allowed to go to the toilet whenever she wants. Just in case, you can send her there during breaks too…

– Fine, but she can always ask! Miss Monroe turned around and walked away.

Callie silently left the bathroom. She changed into pink sweatpants, which were too long for her and too big in the waist. In one hand she held a plastic bag with wet panties in bright strawberries, jeans, socks and white tennis shoes with pink stripes. She was absently wrapping a lock of brown hair around the finger of her other hand.

Mrs. White leaned over and looked the girl in the eyes:

– Callie, do you have gym slippers?

Callie lowered her head and looked at her toes in faded socks, so old that the bright scarlet nail on her thumb showed through – last night her mother painted her toenails with a special “vampire” varnish.

“Callie,” repeated Mrs. White, “do you have gym slippers?”

Callie looked at Mrs. White, pursed her lips and nodded.

“That’s good,” Mrs. White said. – Go to the locker room and put on your shoes, and put the wet bag in your bag. I’ll call your mom. Nothing bad happened to you. True, this is not your first such incident. That’s why I want to tell your mom about it. You understand me?

Mrs. White kept a close eye on Callie. The girl lifted her weathered face and looked at the visual acuity chart on the white wall.

Urgently convened a school committee to examine Callie. Teachers and psychologists came to the conclusion that the girl does not have any organic disorders. They thought for a long time what to do with it; finally it was decided to teach Callie a few words in the language of the deaf and dumb, so that it would be easier for her to ask to go to the toilet and explain what she needed. In addition, she was signed up for weekly classes with a school practical psychologist. Everyone patiently waited for Callie to speak, but she never spoke.

Callie climbed out of bed, carefully picked up the school supplies, and placed them on the pine desk. Soon, on the first day of school, she will arrange her treasures on the desk just as neatly. Below – what is heavier, on top – the lightest, pencils and pens in a brand new green pencil case.

The urge to go to the toilet became stronger and stronger. Callie glanced at the white plastic trash can next to the desk. What if you use it as a chamber pot? No, she will not be able to clean up after herself – mom or Ben will definitely notice her oversight. Mom will be very upset if she sees a puddle in the trash can. He starts asking questions, trying to figure out what’s going on. You will have to nod or shake your head endlessly. “The toilet was busy, but you couldn’t wait?”, “Did you and Petra play something?”, “Callie, are you mad at me for something?”.

Maybe climb out the window and go down the trellis? The trellis is entwined with moonflowers the size of her hand… On reflection, Callie came to the conclusion that such an exit was not for her either. She didn’t know how to remove the screen from the window. Besides, if her mother caught her doing that, she’d also board up the window in her room… Callie liked to open the window at night. On rainy evenings, she pressed her nose against the net, and raindrops fell on her face. She breathed in the smell of dusty, sun-bleached grass that soaked up the long-awaited drops of moisture. In general, there is nothing to worry about mom. However, he did not want to attract the attention of his father either.

Callie slowly opened the bedroom door and stuck her head out. Then she cautiously walked out of the room onto the landing. It is dark and stuffy – there is nothing to breathe. Opposite her bedroom is Brother Ben’s, his room is exactly the same as hers, only the window overlooks the backyard and the edge of the forest of Willow Creek. Ben’s door was closed, as was the door to his parents’ bedroom. Callie stood on the landing, listening to what was going on downstairs, what her father was doing. Silence … It would be great if he had already gone fishing! The father and his friend Roger were going to go fishing in the east of the county, on the Mississippi. Roger was supposed to pick him up early in the morning. They wouldn’t be back until three days later, and they’d spend the night at Roger’s hunting lodge, about a hundred miles from Willow Creek. Callie felt a little uneasy. Too bad she’s so happy about her father’s departure. Just when they were three together, life became much calmer.

In the morning, going down to the kitchen, each time they did not know what was waiting for them. Sometimes they caught my father in a good mood. Then he put Callie on his lap and tickled her with his red stubble, Callie laughed. On such days, my father often kissed my mother, made her coffee, and after breakfast he took Ben with him to the city. The cheerful father became very talkative and addressed them with tenderness. But more often they saw a different picture: the father sat at the shabby kitchen table, covering his face with his hands, and empty beer cans lay everywhere – in the sink, on the floor, on the mottled laminate countertops. On days like these, Callie would tiptoe past the kitchen, quietly close the screen door behind her, and run into the Willow Creek woods, where she would play along the Ivyanka River or build a hut out of sticks. From time to time, Callie returned to the edge of the forest to check if her father’s truck was still there. If it wasn’t there, Callie went home. During the time she was gone, my mother managed to throw out the empty cans and ventilate the house from the sour, stagnant stink. If the truck was still parked near the house, Callie hid in the woods until she was chased out by hunger or the heat of the day.

No sound came from the kitchen. Deciding that her father had left, Callie began to descend. With particular care, she stepped on the fourth, creaky step. At the foot of the stairs it became a little lighter – the light from the light bulb above the stove reached here. It remains to go past the kitchen – and she will be in the toilet. On the bottom step, Callie lifted the hem of her nightgown to make her steps wider. She glanced furtively towards the kitchen. Nobody! Here she was already next to the bathroom door, grabbed the cold metal handle, turned …

Callie! – I heard a hoarse whisper. The girl froze in place. – Callie! Get over here!

Callie let go of the doorknob and turned towards the sound of her father’s voice. The kitchen is empty, but the screen door is ajar; she can make out the outline of his broad shoulders in the early morning gloom. My father sat on the low concrete porch, two wisps of smoke curled and intertwined over his head – from a cigarette and from a cup of coffee.

– Come on, come here, little Callie. Why did you get up so early? Griffin asked ruefully. Callie opened the screen door, trying not to hurt her father, climbed out with difficulty through the gap and stood next to him. Why aren’t you sleeping, Callie? Did you have a terrible dream? Grif looked up at his daughter, Callie could see genuine concern on his face.

She shook her head and waved her hand towards the bathroom. True, for some reason she immediately got sick of going to the toilet.

– What-what? I can not hear you! The father grinned. – Speak louder! Oh yeah, you can’t speak. His mouth twisted in disdain. – You show us with your hands how dumb! He jumped up and, mimicking his daughter, twirled his hands in the air. “You can’t talk like all normal kids!” Completely stupid, right? Griffin got more and more excited.

Callie lowered her head. There were a dozen flattened beer cans on the ground. The desire to urinate returned with the same force. She raised her head and looked at her mother’s window – the curtains did not flutter, and because of them did not show her mother’s kind face, at the sight of which she immediately felt better.

– Can’t you speak? Bullshit! Earlier, as you said. The little one used to chat incessantly: “Daddy, daddy …” Especially when she wanted something from me. And now she has grown up and turned into a brainless fool … Or maybe you are not mine at all? Your eyes are like a deputy sheriff’s. Griffin leaned over and looked at the girl point-blank. Callie involuntarily closed her eyes.

Tires rustled over the gravel, the roar of the engine was heard. Roger! Callie opened her eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. An SUV pulled up next to them.

– Hey guys! Good morning! How are you, Miss Cully? – Roger nodded to Callie, not looking at her, and, without waiting for an answer, turned to his friend: – Well, Grif, let’s go, or what?

Roger Hogan and Grif have been friends since high school. Roger, a short, fat man with a round stomach, worked as a foreman at a local slaughterhouse. Every time Grif returned on a visit from the Alaskan oil pipeline, Roger persuaded him to stay in his hometown for good and get a job with him at the slaughterhouse.

“Let’s live happily ever after, like in the good old days,” he added.

“Good morning, Rog,” Grif replied cheerfully, still squinting at his daughter angrily. “You’ll have to go ahead without me.” Callie had a terrible dream. I’ll sit with her for a while until she feels better, and then I’ll put her to bed.

– Come on, Grif! Roger growled angrily. “Let her mother put her to bed!” You and I have been going fishing for a long time!

– No, no. A girl needs a father, doesn’t she, Callie? Daddy, who is always there when the baby is scared. Daddy should always be there and protect her, right, Rog? Callie needs to spend as much time as possible with her beloved daddy, whether she wants to or not. But you want to, don’t you, Callie?

Vulture said “daddy” so mockingly that Callie, hearing this word again, involuntarily cringed. Most of all she wanted to run into the house and wake up her mother. Drunken Grif always radiated hatred. However, he has never hit her yet. Ben got it hard. Mom too. But Callie’s father did not lay a finger.

– Rog, I’ll put my things in your trunk. See you later, on the spot. I feel the bite will be great. By the way, I’ll grab us another beer on the way. Griff somehow threw a green cloak into his friend’s car. Then, much more carefully, he packed the fishing tackle and rods into the trunk. See you soon, Roger!

– Okay, so I’ll see you there. Can you find a way?

– I’ll find it, I’ll find it, don’t worry. I will definitely come. And you start early. I give you a head start. It doesn’t matter how I arrive, I’ll beat you right away!

– Well, we’ll see who beats whom! Roger laughed and left.

Griff returned to Callie. Despite the warm weather, the girl stood with her arms wrapped around herself.

– Well, Callie, do you want to see your daddy? The sheriff’s deputy lives very close – over there, behind the forest. The father grabbed her by the arm and dragged her to the forest. Callie couldn’t take it anymore. A warm stream flowed down the leg …

Petra

I can’t sleep again. Terribly hot, the chain sticks to the neck. I’m sitting on the floor in front of an electric fan, cool air blowing on my face. I speak very quietly into the fan, and it seems to answer me with a grumpy buzz:

– I am Petra, the princess of the whole world…

There is a rustle outside the window, and at first I get scared. I want to wake up my mom and dad. I’m crawling on the carpet like a plastuna, the carpet hurts my knees. I lean out of the window, and it seems to me that someone big and scary is looking at me from the darkness. Next to him is another silhouette, smaller. Oh, I’m not afraid anymore! I recognized them! “Wait! I think. “I’ll go with you too!” I’m thinking. Maybe it’s not worth it? But he’s an adult… Mom and Dad won’t be angry if I go with an adult. I put on my tennis shoes and quietly make my way out of the room. I’ll just say hello and I’ll be right back.

Callie

Although she and her father had been walking for quite some time, Callie knew exactly where they were in the woods. They came to a path that skirted Beggar’s Mountain. Among the ferns and bulrushes rose-colored chelon heads were visible, where Callie often saw sleek, beautiful horses, gracefully carrying their owners through the forest. She longed terribly for some bay mare or dappled gray horse to suddenly jump out onto the path, frighten her father and bring him to his senses. But today is Thursday, and on weekdays, almost no one rode on the edge near their house. She still had one more faint hope that they would meet a forester, but the foresters have to go around a huge territory, inspect hiking trails, monitor the condition of the forest. In general, it is unlikely that anyone will help her now … Callie dutifully trudged on. True, it is still a long way to the house of Deputy Sheriff Louis. Is it good or bad? On the one hand, it’s bad: her father stubbornly drags her further and further along the stony, bumpy paths, and her bare feet are all scratched. On the other hand, if they did get to the bailiff’s house, Dad would probably start a row, and Louis, as always, would try to calm him down and call his mom. Louis’s wife would probably be standing on the threshold behind her husband, arms crossed over her chest, and furtively looking around to see if any of the neighbors were watching them.

The father did not look well. His face turned white, like a flower called “Canadian wolf’s foot” – this primrose mother often showed her when they walked in the forest – and his father’s red hair became like the reddish juice that appears when you pull a flower from the ground. From time to time, Grif stumbled over the tree roots, but still held Callie tightly by the hand and muttered something under his breath all the time. Callie didn’t resist. She was waiting for an opportunity to break free and run home to her mother.

They came to an open area called Willow Hollow. On the bank of the river Ivyanka, seven weeping willows grew in a regular crescent. It was said that they were landed here by a French settler, a friend of Napoleon Bonaparte. Bonaparte allegedly gave his friend willows – his favorite trees.

Callie’s mother was not like other mothers. She loved to climb trees with her children and, sitting on a branch, told them about their distant ancestors who immigrated to the United States from Czechoslovakia in the early nineteenth century. Mom took food with her to the forest for everyone: peanut butter sandwiches and apples. Usually they went down to Ivyanka itself and waded it over slippery, mossy stones. Then Antonia spread an old blanket under the long lacy branches of the willow, and they crawled into the shade of the tree. Sticky shoots wrapped around them like a cloak. Willow turned into a hut on a desert island. Ben, when he still sailed with them, became a brave sailor, Callie – his reliable first mate. Well, Antonia herself portrayed a pirate. The pirate chased the sailors and shouted, imitating the English accent:

– Give up, land rats, or I’ll throw you into the sea!

– No way! Ben shouted. “Feed us to the sharks if you want, Bart Sticky, but we won’t give up!”

– Oh, yes! Then prepare to die! Now swim in a race with the fish! replied Antonia, waving her stick.

Callie, run! Ben ordered, and Callie ran. Her thin long legs were constantly scratched – she loved to climb trees and fences. Callie ran until Antonia doubled over, out of breath.

– Truce, truce! Antonia begged for mercy. The three of them returned to their “house” under the willow and rested. They drank soda, and a cool breeze blew sweaty necks. Antonia often laughed merrily, throwing her head back and narrowing her eyes, at such moments the crow’s feet at the corners of her eyes disappeared. Antonia’s laughter was contagious – everyone who was next to her became cheerful. Callie was having fun too, but she wasn’t laughing. For many years no one heard her sonorous, bell-like laughter. She only smiled timidly, not opening her lips, realizing that her mother was always waiting for her to finally laugh and speak.