Notes: I know that Bossuet didn't live in the south, but that's where he is in this story. :-)

December 25th, 1811, Avignon, 10: 30 A.M.

A six year old Laurent Joly awoke to a knock at his family's living room door.

"I wonder who it is?" he thought sleepily, though it was hard to think when his thoughts were so scrambled.

Laurent got up and looked out his snow-covered window.

It was Lucien Bossuet, Laurent's eight-year-old best friend.

Laurent dressed quickly and ran to the door.

Lucien knocked again.

"Coming!" cried Laurent.

He twisted the lock and turned the knob.

It wouldn't budge.

He tried again.

Nothing.

The knock came again.

"Laurent! Are you home?!" cried Lucien.

"Just a moment!" yelled Laurent.

He tried once more.

Still nothing.

Again.

The door sprang open toppling Laurent over.

"Are you okay?" asked Lucien.

"I think so." Laurent sniffled, rubbing his aching head.

"'Wanna play checkers outside?" Lucien asked hopefully.

"Sure," replied Laurent stepping out into the snowy cold. . .

*   *   *   *   *

After about three games of checkers Laurent's nose was bright red.

"You look like Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer!" laughed Lucien.

But Laurent didn't think it quite so funny.

"It's too cold out here, I've gotta go." said Laurent. And, by now sounding quite funny because of his sniffly nose, he headed towards his house.

"Goodbye!" Lucien called after him.

Laurent's nose felt kind of funny and ticklish and it was hard for him to breathe because of it.

Laurent knew what he had.

"A cold!" he yelped.

It was the first time he had really, really been sick.

He decided to go open his presents to get his mind off of it.

"A doctor's kit!" he exclaimed on opening the first.

He decided to go over to Musichetta Pinceau's house so she could give him his checkup with his new doctor's kit.

She was seven years old and his other best friend.

*   *   *   *   *

When he arrived, he told her all about his cold and his brand new doctor's kit and asked her to give him his checkup. And so, give him his checkup she did.

"You've got quite a cold," she observed.

"I noticed!" he cried and he burst into tears.

"Oh, don't worry, Laurent," comforted Musie. "You'll be better in no time, a cold's not that bad."

"It's not?" asked Laurent.

"Nope," replied Musie, "It isn't. Just stay in bed, keep warm, eat lots of chicken noodle soup, and drink plenty of orange juice."

*   *   *   *   *

Laurent followed these instructions and as Musie had said he was better in no time. But still Laurent didn't like sickness and soon became afraid of it and so became the hypochondriac he is today.

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