* A Fateful Meeting *

The wizard knelt in front of the awed child.

"And what is your name?"

"P.. Peregrin, sir. Peregrin Took."

"Did you enjoy the fireworks, Peregrin Took?"

"Oh yes!" the child enthused. "It was like you broke open the skies, and the stars exploded, and dragons flew, and..." He stopped for breath. "Will you do it again tomorrow night, even if it isn't Cousin Bilbo's birthday anymore?"

"That was just for tonight," the wizard said gently. "Do you like your toy?"

The child traced one finger over the tiny, feathered wings, which fluttered at a touch. "It's wonderful. And it moves all by itself!" He looked into the wizard's large, empty hands. "Didn't you get one?"

"No," the wizard laughed.

"You didn't?" the child frowned. Without a second's hesitation, he held out the Dwarvish-made treasure. "You can play with mine, sir. I'm sure you were just overlooked."

"That's very kind of you," said the wizard, "but you keep it." He looked thoughtfully at the small face, and peered deeply, for just a moment, into the child's eyes. So he had been right about this one. "You have a generous heart, my lad, and a very bright spirit."

The boy looked puzzled. "Everyone says I have too much spirit."

"Do they indeed?" The wizard smiled and stood up. "I'm very glad we met, Peregrin. Perhaps one day, our roads will join once again." He pointed to one of the tables. "You'd better hurry, now, or you'll miss the cake."

"Cake?" The child's eyes lit up, and he bounded away.

"Gandalf?"

"Yes, Frodo?"

"Bilbo would like to speak with you."

The wizard paused for just a moment longer, imprinting upon his memory the child's face and name, before smiling down at Frodo. "Lead the way, dear boy," he chuckled, "and let us see what Bilbo is up to."