Once upon a time there was a woman.
She lived in a town with other women and children and men. She had her own man and child that lived with her, she called them family and loved them with all her might.
One day the man left/she left/she could no longer take the fighting/he could no longer take the fighting/it was hard to live with another person who wanted such different things/it was hard to see themselves through the eyes of the other/it was hard to see themselves.
And so it came to pass that she lived by herself, with the child.
And it was lonely.
And when the wolf howled in the night or the sound of feet echoed too close to the little hut where her child slept in the darkness she was scared.
And she thought, how can I do this all alone. Just me in this world. With this child that needs everything — so much more than I can give. And she cried.
Yet the child grew.
She taught the child everything she could think of to teach and hugged the child every time she remembered. She told the child the truth about the world; about the good that exists in all people at the beginning and about the rules that their kind made to keep themselves dancing and singing and loving and feeling.
One day when the child was nearly grown the woman woke in the middle of the night to find the hut empty. Fear gripped her heart as beasts and predators pranced in her head.
When the light returned so did the child. Why have you done this? the woman asked. The child could not answer and for a time every night was a time to be afraid; a time when all her love was not enough.
Then one day the child turned to her and said, ‘What I believe in is you. What I am thankful for is you. And everything that you are I try to be and for everything that you have done for me I am grateful. I am a good person. And so are you.’
Once upon a time there was a woman.2 Comments