I turned to George's father. "You're sorry about hitting your wife, aren't you?"
"Y-yes" he answered, tears running down his face.
"And you're terrified that you'll do it again, that's why you keep your emotions clamped down, right?"
"How did you--yes."
"And as long as you're the biggest, strongest one in the family, you can never be free of that fear, can you?"
"No, I guess not."
"Do you think you could be free to express yourself if you were small and helpless?"
"I guess so."
I made a silent wish, and George's father began to shrink. His face went from rough and pitted to smooth, and his thinning hair became full and lustrous. His muscular arms and legs became thin. He kept shrinking. "What's happening to me?" he asked, in a voice that veered into the soprano range.
"Don't worry" I said. "You're getting another chance."
His clothes were changing too, from a brown tee-shirt and work pants to a pink top and blue jeans.
Where the strong man had been sitting, was a girl who looked about five years old. I wished that the new girl's family would accept her change.
I turned to Myrintha's mother. "You have a new daughter." I said "and Myrintha has a new sister." The new little girl gave a shy smile.