Kirsten Raye is 10 years old and lives on Whidbey Island in Washington State.  Her family lives on 40 acres of land in an old log house built by her grandfather.  She is in the 5th grade at South Whidbey Intermediate School, and has one younger brother, Peter, and an older sister, Brigid.

A neighbor gave the family a red and white Husky puppy last year to go with the oldwho-knows-what- she-is black dog who wandered up to the house a few years ago and stayed.  The dogs co-exist with the many deer and rabbits who regularly visit to eat the grasses in the meadow in the front of the house.

Kirsten Raye's mother's parents came to the United States from Sweden when they were first married.  Her grandmother was a teacher, and her grandfather built beautifully-crafted log homes for island residents, like the one Kirsten Raye and her family live in.

Kirsten Raye is named for her grandmother, Kerstin, and her favorite doll is the American Girl™ Kirsten doll because it has her name and teaches her what life would have been like as a pioneer in this country in the 1800s.

Her father's parents came to the Northwest from Kansas during World War II when her grandfather was a Navy pilot stationed at the Whidbey Naval Air Station.

Kirsten Raye's parents met in first grade, started dating in high school, and got married when they were juniors in college.  Her father is an engineer at Boeing and was involved in the original designs for the newest sleek jet passenger planes.

Her mother is a homemaker, but also designs and stitches beautiful formal dresses, wedding gowns and native Scandinavian costumes for the many cultural events held in the Northwest.

Kirsten Raye is a good student and loves to read.  She enjoys all her classes at school, but especially likes math because she thinks solving the problems is fun.

She stays very busy after school working with the Young Scandia Dancers, helping teach girls and boys Scandinavian dances, stories, crafts and cooking from the cultures.  They practice at the CMA Church in Langley and perform at many different festivals and celebrations on Whidbey Island.

Kirsten Raye's family attends St. Augustine's in-the-Woods Episcopal Church in Freeland.  She helps her mother tend the flower gardens surrounding the little wood church set deep in the woods and has enjoyed working with the other Church School students to clean out the beds around the bell tower and plant new flowers down the walkway.

Kirsten Raye's family always sits in the third pew on the right side of the church, where they can hear Brigid singing with the choir.  Kirsten Raye likes to sit in the quiet church before the Holy Eucharist gazing up at the beautiful bentwood Celtic cross over the altar.

Kirsten Raye loves living on Whidbey Island because of the dense woods, flower-covered meadows, spectacular mountain views and broad, rippling waters of Puget Sound.  She likes to picnic and hike at the South Whidbey State Park and Fort Casey and enjoys taking the dogs to the off-leash park at Double Bluff beach.

Kirsten Raye's family picks berries in the spring, and she and her sisters make loganberry and raspberry jam, blackberry duff and blueberry buckle.  They also pick apples and cherries from the trees in their orchard.

One of the most fun things about living on an island, Kirsten Raye thinks, is riding the ferries.  A lot of people don't like spending time waiting in line to get on the ferries and think they are too slow, but Kirsten Raye doesn't mind.  She always takes a book to read while she waits.

Once the ferry pulls away from the dock, Kirsten Raye likes to stand at the front of the boat as it cuts through the water.  Sometimes she will buy a bag of popcorn and feed it to the many seagulls who like to travel with the ferries.

Her favorite ride is from the Keystone dock north of Greenbank to the quaint little town of Port Townsend.  If the day is clear, you can see Mt. Rainier, Mt. Baker, the Olympic Mountains, the San Juan Islands and Vancouver Island in Canada.  In Port Townsend, the family enjoys the Victorian homes, picnicking at Fort Worden, and stopping for an ice cream cone downtown before returning home.

One of the highlights of the year comes during the Christmas season when the family celebrates Santa Lucia Day, commemorating Lucia, a girl who gave money to the poor.

On the darkest day of the year, December 13, the oldest daughter dresses up in the traditional white gown with a bright red sash.  Her head is topped with a wreath of greens and six tall candles representing the hope of good conquering evil in the world.  She wakes her family before daylight with coffee and sweet buns.

Kirsten Raye's family has kept this tradition alive, and although Brigid is the Santa Lucia girl in their home, Kirsten Raye was chosen to be the Santa Lucia girl in the church celebration this year, and she is eagerly awaiting her part.

Where do you live?
How old are you?
What grade are you in?
What is your favorite subject in school?
What do you like to do in your free time?
Do you have brothers or sisters?
Do you have a pet?  What does your pet mean to you?
What is a tradition that is important to your family?
How do you celebrate holidays in your family?
How are you like Kirsten Raye?  How are you different?
 

Kirsten Raye felt the cold, wet nose of the Husky before she heard his low growl.

"What is it Dusky boy?"  she said with a yawn.  She looked at the clock on the bedside table and saw it was almost 3 a.m.  The dog pushed her again with his nose and then ran to the window.

Kirsten Raye threw back the covers and shivered as her feet sought the furry slippers and she pulled a warm robe over her flannel nightgown.  She followed the big dog to the window and looked out at the night.  The huge silvery moon lit up the yard and the giant fir trees on the high bluff, and cast diamonds on the still waters of Admiralty Inlet below.

"What do you see boy?" she whispered, straining her eyes.  She saw nothing moving, but thought maybe a deer had scampered across the broad lawn and rustled the leaves, awakening the dog.  The dog stood, rigid, ears erect and tail high, the low growl still rumbling in his throat.  She stroked his soft coat, speaking soothing words while continuing to search in the direction the dog was looking.

After a few minutes, the dog quieted and relaxed, then padded softly to his place beside her bed, circled twice and settled back into sleep.  Kirsten Raye continued to sit at the window, her gaze lifting to the rugged Olympic Mountains in the distance, their snow-capped peaks clearly visible in the bright moonlight.

She remembered the stories her mother told her about how her grandparents had settled here because it reminded them so much of their native land.

She could understand their love of this island -- it was beautiful in the moonlight, but also when the sun would set over the mountains, turning the sky shades of pinks and oranges and yellows.

She even loved it on the wet and gray days so common here in Western Washington, when she would sit on the broad window seat and read the old story books her grandmother had brought with her from Sweden.

Kirsten Raye yawned and realized she was shaking in the cold room.  She crossed quickly to the bed and slipped under the quilt made years ago by her father's mother, carefully packed and brought from Kansas.  She drifted to sleep, dreaming of sitting at a spinning wheel or quilting frame.

Kirsten Raye woke to the sound of the phone ringing, and heard her father's deep voice as he answered.  She rolled out of bed and opened the window.  How she loved the fall!  The days were brisk and the nights were cold and clear. She breathed deeply and saw the light frost on the grass.  She closed the window and quickly dressed in her favorite Saturday outfit:  a pink turtleneck sweater,  flowered denim overalls, black hiking boots and baseball cap.  She was going to work with her dad in the woods, and although they would be working very hard, she treasured the special time with him.
 

Kirsten Raye entered the warm kitchen and saw that her mother was making apple cake and cinnamon buns for an afternoon snack.  "Hi Mom, hi Dad," she said, grabbing a glass of orange juice and climbing onto the stool at the counter.  She looked like her mother, who had pale skin, clear blue eyes and almost white silky hair.  Kirsten Raye's hair was a little darker than her mother's, and her cheeks were bright pink, just like her dad's.  She was going to be tall with strong legs, like he was.

His family had come to the island generations ago, and their name was everywhere:  on a road, on businesses owned by her grandparents, aunts and uncles, and even on historic buildings in town.  Sometimes she didn't like having her name all over the place, but she was also proud of all the things her family had done to make this wonderful place she called home.

"Kirsten Raye, did you hear anything last night?"  asked her mother as she handed her a steaming cup of cocoa.  "I thought I heard Dusky growling."  Her dad raised his eyes from the paper, a serious look on his face.

"Yes, mom, Dusky poked me with his nose and growled, but I looked out the window and didn't see anything."  At the mention of his name, Dusky rose from his spot by the wood stove and sat down beside Kirsten Raye's stool.

"The sheriff called and said they found a heavy concrete birdbath on the beach below us this morning.  He wondered if we'd heard or seen anything."  Her dad took a sip of coffee and continued, "This is the third time this month they've found something that was stolen from a garden, and they are concerned that the next thing they find will be broken."

Kirsten Raye was quiet.  She remembered hearing something at school last week about a girl who found her gazing ball moved to a neighbor's yard, but at the time she hadn't paid much attention.  She knew that a lot of times mischievous kids painted garden statues or moved them around in someone's yard, but she never thought they would steal them or break them.

She ate her breakfast in silence, wondering if she should say something to her parents, but then decided not to.  She really didn't know anything about the stolen birdbath and wasn't sure that Cindy's gazing ball had anything to do with it.

"Kirsten Raye," her mother's voice broke into her thoughts. Kirsten Raye looked up.  "Don't forget we have to measure you for the Santa Lucia costume this week.  We're getting ready to start our practicing for the celebration at church."

Kirsten Raye felt a thrill of excitement -- it was quite an honor to be chosen as the Santa Lucia girl, and because it was a tradition of her heritage, Kirsten Raye was anxious to wear the costume of her culture.

After breakfast, Kirsten Raye and her father worked in the woods.  Her dad was quiet, and Kirsten Raye knew the Sheriff's call had bothered him.  She didn't say anything, though, because she was afraid he might ask her questions she didn't want to answer.

Kirsten Raye stood at the closet door and looked at the things hanging there. She really wanted to wear jeans and a sweater to school, but had to wear something more dressy today -- she was participating in the Spelling Bee.  I wonder if I could get away with my pink sweater and white leggings, she thought.  No, mom had insisted that since she would be on the stage that she had to wear a skirt.

She decided on her red jumper and black turtleneck.  She remembered that the whole school would be in the audience, and hoped that Joey, a new boy in the 5th grade, would think she looked nice.  He was cute and smiled at her one day, but she didn't think he really noticed her.

"Kirsten Raye," her mother called from downstairs.  "Come let me fix your hair for today."  Oh no, thought Kirsten Raye, mom will want me to wear my hair in pigtails on top of my head!  She quickly pulled her hair into a ponytail and put the plaid hairband around it.

"It's okay, Mom, I'm ready to go," she answered.

As soon as she went downstairs and saw her mother, Kirsten Raye knew she would have a battle with her.

"Oh, Kirsten Raye," her mother said with a disapproving frown, "I wish you were wearing your plaid skirt or the green one with apples.  Either of them would be so pretty."  Her mother came over and smoothed Kirsten Raye's hair.

"Mom, that is just too dressy for school!  I have to be comfortable, and I don't want to stand out and look funny."  Kirsten Raye munched on a piece of toast with strawberry jam as she talked.

Kirsten Raye headed out the door before her mother could make any changes and walked up the long road to meet the school bus.  Even though she was afraid some of the kids on the bus would taunt her for being so dressed up, she thought she looked nice and was excited to get Joey's attention.

Kirsten Raye sat with her back to the boys and thumbed through the book, trying to look like she was reading, but what she was doing was trying to listen to what they were saying.

"Did you see what we did last weekend?" Joey whispered to the other boy.  "Old man Greesin will never get his birdbath back -- that'll teach him not to mess with me!"  Kirsten couldn't believe it!  Joey Neighson had stolen the birdbath?

"Joe, you're gonna get caught," said Brian.  "Where'd you put it?  It's too big to put in your room and your mom will find it!"  Brian was right -- the birdbath had to be the one that was found on the beach!

Kirsten Raye sat frozen in her seat.  She couldn't believe it!  Since the Spelling Bee on Monday, Joey had been paying a lot of attention to her, and some of the girls were saying he liked her.  Joey didn't seem to mind it, and Kirsten Raye was glad.  Now, she was afraid that maybe he was not as nice as she had thought.

"Why did you take it, Joey?" asked Brian.  "How are you going to get it off the beach and then where will you put it?"  Brian sounded upset.  He was Joey's best friend because they both moved here from the same town in Montana.

"I'm not going to get it back," said Joey, laughing quietly.  "I don't want it.  I just want that old geezer to suffer for what he did to me."

"Joey, he didn't do anything but ask you to get away from his horses!  He was afraid you'd get kicked."  Kirsten Raye thought it sounded like Brian was getting angry.

Joey got up suddenly, pushing his chair back loudly.  "I shouldn't have told you," he hissed through clenched teeth.  "You're just a  dork!"

Joey stormed out of the Library, brushing past the school librarian.  Kirsten Raye noticed that Mrs. Sargent looked after him with a frown on her face.

Brian sat quietly behind her.  Kirsten Raye gathered up her books and walked out of the library.  What should she do?  She really liked Joey, but just now he had sounded like a mean boy she didn't even know.

She couldn't forget what she had heard in the Library, and as she left school for the day, she didn't see Joey anywhere around, and was glad.  She didn't know what she would say to him.

"Honey, what's bothering you?"  Kirsten Raye's mother had noticed how quiet she had been all week.  "I would have thought you would be on top of the world after winning the Spelling Bee."

Kirsten Raye hadn't said anything to her parents about what she had overheard.  Maybe Joey had heard some older boys talking about stealing the birdbath and thought he would brag about it to make people like him.  No, that wouldn't be right, since Brian was already his best friend and he wouldn't need to brag to him.

"I'm fine, mom, just really busy and tired."  She turned and went up to her room so her mother wouldn't ask any more questions.  She just couldn't keep a secret from her parents, especially when she really wanted their help with a problem.

What am I going to do, thought Kirsten Raye.  I really like Joey, but if he is stealing things from other people, I don't want to be around him.  She stretched across her bed, and Dusky immediately jumped up with her and began to lick her face.

"Oh Dusky," Kirsten Ray laughed.  "I don't want to be licked!"  She rolled him over and rubbed his stomach.  It was like he knew how she felt and wanted to make it better.  He always seemed to sense her moods, and that made it even harder:  when she was sad, he was sad, and she didn't like doing anything to hurt her loyal and faithful friend.

She got up from the bed and walked over to the window.  It was raining outside, and it was snowing in the mountains.  From the window, she could see that the Olympic Mountains across the water were turning white with the new snow.   They were so beautiful, and Kirsten Raye smiled before she remembered that she had a big problem:  what to do about what she had heard.

Kirsten Raye stared at the headline in the paper.  It had happened again!  A small bronze fountain and a wheelbarrow full of herbs had disappeared from a cottage in Clinton on Saturday night.  This was the fifth time someone had reported a theft, and Kirsten Raye was really afraid.  Joey couldn't have taken those things -- he wasn't that strong.  But he had older brothers.  Maybe they were the thieves and Joey had been forced to help them.

Kirsten Raye didn't know what to do.  Her parents kept asking her what was wrong.  Her friends kept telling her she seemed different.  Joey and Brian weren't speaking to each other, and Joey had missed school several days with a really bad cold.  Did he get it by staying out on these cool nights?

She heard what he said to Brian with her own ears, so she knew he stole the birdbath, but was he a part of the other thefts, too?

She couldn't ask Joey straight out if he was a thief -- what would she do if she was wrong and he hated her?  He would tell everyone in school that she accused him of stealing.  What would her friends think of her?

But what if he DID steal things?  What other things did he do?  How could she have been so wrong about him?  She thought he was so nice.  It was very important to her that her friends, even the boys, be good and moral people.

Then she thought about Brian.  Why hadn't he told someone what Joey told him?

Kirsten Raye walked slowly upstairs to her room.  She shut the door softly and sat heavily on the bed.  Her shoulders drooped as she absent-mindedly pushed her hair out of her eyes.  She heard Dusky push the door to her room open with his nose and saw him cast her a puzzled look.

"Oh Dusky," she said, as she slid off the bed and onto the floor beside him, "what am I going to do?"  She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his fur.  "What am I going to do?" she cried.

If she asks Joey about the stealing, what will he say?  When she tells him she heard him talking to Brian, will he admit the truth?
What will happen after she talks to him?  Will her friends hate her or will they think she did the right thing?

Should she talk to her parents before she talks to Joey?  What if her dad goes to the Sheriff?  Should she talk to Brian?

What would YOU do?

Have you ever suspected that a friend of yours had done something wrong?  Have any friends of yours ever done anything that made you question their honesty?

Think about these questions and write several endings to Kirsten Raye's story, then choose the one you think is best.

©2000, Nancy Ruff, All Rights Reserved