My younger self cried, “Oh no!”
My mother inhaled deeply. “One day, the bird returned and told Red she wanted payment for her gift. The payment would be the only part of her that had not changed — her golden heart. Red cried but allowed the bird to remove the only piece of herself that was still good.”
Tears streaked down the cheeks of my younger self.
Wiping them away, my mother said, “As the cruel bird flew away, Red screamed into the wind. Her cries were for her lost friends. She said, ‘Silver of the east, I ask you to clarify my thoughts. Embers of the south, burn away the anger I have inside me. Aqua of the west, wash away my fears. Stone of the north, strengthen me. And, Mother of Light, I beg for your forgiveness and blessings.’”
When my mother paused for a moment before she whi
