Cover story

She was a mindful child. Her natural curiosity allowing her to observe the world as it unfolded in front of her. At her young age of five, she was her mother's favorite company. Transitioning into her first year of public schooling seemed harder on her mother than herself. Her mother had always taken her wherever she went, and even now, her mother made a point of bringing her along. She loved going with her mother. It gave her a sense of adventure. Except for one place that she would have preferred to stay away from, but she didn't know how to tell her mother. It was the local spice shop. It was a tiny hole-in-the-wall store that was filled with jars and bowls and containers of all sorts of different herbs and spices. Oils and incense, homemade salves and pastilles for curing anything that ailed the villagers. There was nothing to compare it to. Even the modern apothecary couldn't supply everything that little store contained. It was a treasure trove for anyone who wanted to use the natural remedies they had grown up with, instead of the "instant fix but not really curing the cause" modern approach that was slowly taking over her small village. It wasn't the store that she didn't like. No, the store fascinated her. There was so much to explore and discover, so much more to ask about and learn. She would have been excited to go there if it hadn't been for the old woman who owned the store. She was quite frightened of the old lady. She might have been able to overcome the austere look the old lady had about herself. The old lady wasn't scary in the sense of witches in old fairytales. It wasn't the old lady's somber face that bothered her. It was the look the old lady gave her, every time the old lady caught sight of her. At her tender age of five, no matter how smart she was, she wasn't able to explain what it was in the old lady's eyes that overwhelmed her. It made her become self-conscious in such a way that wouldn't allow her to roam the store freely, as she did in other places her mother took her to. Instead, she was hiding behind her mother's legs each time, until they left the store. Initially her mother was surprised to see her act that way. When her mother asked her why she was clutching onto her in the manner she did, she couldn't explain it, no matter how much she wanted to. Since her mother didn't get any specific answers, she brushed off the little girl's behavior to possibly the different aromas and the tiny space of the store. Then one day, she refused to enter the spice shop. Since she was a mindful child, her mother was surprised at her defiant behavior, but instinctively understood that there was something troubling her. "Alright, little one" her mother said "if you have good reason not to come in to the store, you will have to tell me something." She averted her eyes from her mother and stared at the ground. Realizing her mother wouldn't budge, she sucked her teeth, then slowly raised her eyes to look at her. "Mama, that old lady in there always looks at me like I did something. But I never touched anything in the store." Her mother thought about it and rather than assuming that the old lady might look at anyone weird, she was going to talk to her. The little girl didn't know it, but her mother was taken to the spice shop when she was a little girl herself by her own mother, and she couldn't remember ever being looked at in a way that frightened her when she was a little girl. "Listen, little one. I want you to stay right here by the entrance door, where I can keep an eye on you while I go inside", her mother instructed her. Relieved that her mother didn't make her go inside this time, she nodded her head agreeably and replied "yes mama, I'll be right here waiting for you." Her mother entered the store. Before she could say anything, the old lady spoke up "where is your little girl today? Is she alright?" And for the first time the little girl's mother saw a small smile on the always stern looking face of the old woman. She replied "yes, yes, she's fine. I left her outside today because she seems to be frightened" the little girl's mother hesitated briefly before she continued "she seems to be frightened of you." The old woman looked at her surprised "Oh my. I can't see why she would be frightened of me. I would never treat her unkind. How could I? She looks so much like my own little girl that it startles me every time I see her." Now it was the little girl's mother's turn to look surprised "no wonder you stare at her" she smiled and then asked the old woman "where is your little girl now? She can't be that little anymore." The old lady gave her a queer look, but then she remembered that it indeed had been a long time since she had a little girl. It was only in her mind that it felt like everything had happened just yesterday. "She was killed during the civil unrest. The militia ravaged our village looking for underground fighters and they annihilated almost everyone. My whole family perished. I'm only here because I was left for dead." Shivers ran down the little girl's mother's spine. It was one thing to know history. It was a completely different thing to have the past stare in one's face. "I am so sorry" the little girl's mother stammered. "I don't know what to say." The old woman looked at her with soft eyes and said "Don't. Don't say anything. It doesn't change what happened. I appreciate your sympathy no less." The little girl's mother completely understood. What really could one say to such a tragedy. "Excuse me for a minute, please. I will be right back." she said as she stepped outside the store. She knelt down beside her little girl, who had been obediently waiting for her mother. "Listen, little one" the little girl's mother let out a long sigh before she continued to speak. "The old lady inside used to have a little girl who looked just like you and that's why she stares at you when she sees you. She must think that you are her little girl coming into the store until she remembers that you are who you are, and not her little girl afterall." The little girl asked the same question her mother asked just minutes ago. "Where is her little girl now?" Her mother looked at her, this time she let out an even longer sigh "She is not with her anymore. Something happened when she was still a little girl and she had to return to where we all come from. She is with the one who creates us all." "Oh" the little girl said. She stood very still as she was thinking about what her mother had told her "do you think she still misses her?" she asked her mother. "I'm sure she does, little one. I would never stop missing you." and she hugged the little girl tightly with that. The little girl hugged her back, then gently pushed her away so she could speak again. 

"I would like to be in the store with her, mama. Maybe she won't miss her little girl so much then." Her mother smiled at her, deeply touched by her little girl's reply and said "I think the old lady would enjoy you, little one, just as much as I do." And with that the two of them walked hand in hand back into the store and the little girl's mother said to the old woman "Hi. My little girl would like to make your acquaintance." The old woman bend down to look at the little girl face to face, and for the briefest moment the remnants of a young mother were visible in her deeply wrinkled face. The old woman gave the little girl a toothy smile and said "It's so nice to finally meet you." ~•~•~•~•~•~•~• a beautiful milieu Photo Vignesh Snaper https://www.instagram.com/vignesh_snaper/