She said, “the wolf will come…he will…the wolf will come…” and it was intended as a threat. And the wind blew and she said, “Hear him? He is coming…” 

I knew it was only the wind. At three years old I knew this but I believed her about the wolf as well. I stood at the screen door smelling the storm to come and watched and waited. I believed he would come. I watched and watched for him in the blowing wind that howled her words. So cold she was.

And then one hot August night…when no one thought of him at all and not even me I looked into a window and he filled its pane. He came. My wolf, my side, my teaching stone. I was only four and filled with fear but I did not look away. His hot eyes beckoned. And I stood for many hours after that watching and waiting for his return. Until we left.

I did not see him for years again. I know he has always been with me. My soldier guide. My warrior heart.

Pretty Hannah came to my daughter when she was four. Just as full and fiercely came to guard her path. And shine light even in the light itself. Pretty Hannah, the Tiger Brave, who even now, is by her side.

We are bound by our own purpose and theirs. Chosen and guarded. And making our way through the wind. No matter what the others say.

Catherine