"Why not?" I began silent prayers for their possession.
Matches are played in India with kites whose strings are covered
with glue and ground glass. Each player attempts to sever the string
of his opponent. A freed kite sails over the roofs; there is great
fun in catching it. Inasmuch as Uma and I were on the balcony, it
seemed impossible that any loosed kite could come into our hands;
its string would naturally dangle over the roofs.
The players across the lane began their match. One string was cut;
immediately the kite floated in my direction. It was stationary
for a moment, through sudden abatement of breeze, which sufficed
to firmly entangle the string with a cactus plant on top of the
opposite house. A perfect loop was formed for my seizure. I handed
the prize to Uma.
"It was just an extraordinary accident, and not an answer to your
prayer. If the other kite comes to you, then I shall believe."
Sister's dark eyes conveyed more amazement than her words.
I continued my prayers with a crescendo intensity. A forcible tug
by the other player resulted in the abrupt loss of his kite. It
headed toward me, dancing in the wind. My helpful assistant, the
cactus plant, again secured the kite string in the necessary loop
by which I could grasp it. I presented my second trophy to Uma.
"Indeed, Divine Mother listens to you! This is all too uncanny for
me!" Sister bolted away like a frightened fawn.
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