Egnahb Inc. Releases New Publication: 'The Catalyst' by Janelle M. McCarthy

THE CATALYST is a true story depicting the life and death of a mother through the eyes of an eleven year old girl. In true Egnahb fashion, this book has been coordinated with a debut release of "On This Day O Beautiful Mother" by Brian Beck and a special heirloom brooch collection by Exquisite Gems.

Atlanta, GA (PRWEB) May 11, 2007 -- As the second book offered by Egnahb, Inc., "The Catalyst," was written as a tribute to mothers all around the world.

As is typical for Janelle McCarthy's unique writing style, it begins with a ditty introducing a new character "Nikka" to the Egnahb community.

The core of this book shares the heart wrenching true story of how significant the loss of a mother can be for a young girl of eleven, her siblings, family, and community. The reader is allowed a special journey in the mind of an eleven year old girl as she struggles to find a way to celebrate both the life and death of her mother.

In the end, Janelle finds a way to brighten worlds by sharing the lighter tale of a treasure hunt gone awry while providing everyone an opportunity to be part of a special publication for a Mother's Day Tribute 2008.

Book Excerpt:

I had turned eleven just a few days before. I giggled with excitement as today was to be my first birthday party - ever. There were enough of us living there to make pretend birthday parties with just the traditional cake and a present, but this year was going to be different for me.

I had, in fact, already been allowed to go shopping for my own present and delighted in my choice of "Sea Monkeys". I liked the idea of making a creature out of crystals. It made me feel a bit scientific and purchasing it by myself gave me a grown up experience.

But the best part was yet to come -- that day a party was being thrown in my honor. Oh, how I delighted in thoughts of the people invited, decorations bought, and games prepared! I could barely contain my excitement.

The day was August 15, 1974. It was only a Thursday, but it was also a holy day of obligation for our small Catholic community. I would have resented being pulled from the warm summer sun to spend my time in church, but something about having to go to mass just added to the anticipation of that day. Masses were for Sundays or holidays. Having mass as a part of that day somehow sealed its uniqueness with divine authority.

I was fidgety in church as I watched my mother play the organ. My mother had been the parish organist for as long as I could remember. Children of a parish organist rarely miss a mass. We six easily filled a pew in the front of the church. Three boys and three girls all lined up in a row, aged fifteen, fourteen, thirteen, twelve, eleven and nine.

Our church was small but finely decorated with stain glass windows, beautiful statues, and the never ending aroma of burning candles. Churches such as ours may have dotted the countryside, but back then, I believed only that church held the key to spiritual peace.

I tried to concentrate that summer day, but I know my mind wandered to the anticipated party. If Father hadn't been so busy with the sermon, he would have noticed how hard I was struggling to suppress smiles. I could not stop thinking of the wondrous day ahead. Mass was not long for me as my mind was no where in that church. My mother had once told me it was ok to let your mind wander as long as you took Jesus with you. That day, Jesus and I spent an hour contemplating my birthday party.

On the drive home from mass, my mother began issuing chores that needed to be done to prepare for my party. There was cleaning yet to be done, the lawn to mow, and decorations to hang.

While my younger sister handled the humming vacuum, I started wiping things down. I heard the rev of the lawn mower outside while everyone went about their chores. I'm sure there was quibbling, as we six were all capable of it, but I don't remember any such details now. I was in my own little world until I heard my mother scream, "Oh my head".

It wasn't just the words but the tremor of her voice that caused me to drop my rag and run. I found her lying beside the tub in the bathroom, eyes wide open, and her mouth agape. The faucet still spewed water as it started to soak up the little sprinkles of the ®Comet my mother had just placed there.

Click-click, my eyes took in the scene...

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