Francisca, still in her bed, rolled onto her side. On a table near the bed, she could see the beaded bag that Crow had given her. Slipping out bed, Francisca went to the table and picked up the bag. She returned to the bed and wriggled back under the covers. As she lay there, Francisca examined the bag. The leather was so white and soft; the brilliant beadwork, so smooth to the touch. Turning the bag over, she smiled at the open space next to the beaded "F." In her mind"s eye she imagined the letter "C." "Francisca Crow," she thought, "I like the sound of that."
A soft knock at her bedroom door and the slip of the latch announced her mother. “Good morning! Do you still feel like a princess?” her mother asked.
Francisca again got out from under the covers, stood and hugged her mother. “Oh
