Chapter Two, Reading # 19

The cottage consisted of two rooms on the main floor with a loft across half the space above. The main room was the living area of the family and included the kitchen space. A small room off to the side of the kitchen had been Eghero and Dakra's bedroom. Flindra's sleeping space was above, in the loft.
The first room in the loft had originally been Leudh's. Now Dakra used this space to dry her herbs and Flindra always enjoyed smelling the aromatic herbs on her way to her room. She walked through the crowded coziness of the drying racks and smiled at her mother's handiwork. Pushing aside the curtain, which hung in the doorway, she entered the room she had always thought of as being her own. It saddened her to know that tonight would be the last night she would spend here.
The bed was situated so she could look out the small, unglazed window and watch the stars until she fell asleep. The bed was covered with a cozy and colorful quilt, which she and Dakra had made together so many years before. With her quilt pulled up under her chin, she could curl up in comfort in her bed and still feel connected to the magic of the outdoors beyond the window.
Her clothes were hung along pegs lining the inside wall, which kept them in tidy order. She ignored her clothes; most of them she would leave behind for she would be traveling light and only taking the necessary. For the moment, she had some personal things to draw her attention.
Kneeling beside the bed, she pulled out a small wooden box from beneath it. Carefully opening the lid, she looked at the small treasures she had collected through her life. Here were her first samples of weaving and needlework, her favorite childhood toys, pressed leaves and flowers, and other small and simple mementos of happy times.
She lifted out a rag doll, which Dakra had given her for her sixth birthday. She smoothed out her dress and pressed back the auburn colored yarn hair. Her body was made from simple homespun and her dress and apron were made from pieces of scrap fabric. The apron had red gingham apples and blue bows sewn along the bottom. The face had only been painted on and was now starting to fade with age, but the smile was still cheerful and the blush of rose hiding beneath the freckles on her cheeks always gave the doll the look of a dear friend.
Suddenly, Flindra was overcome with tears and she held the doll closely as she wept. She'd always figured that she would only be leaving this house to marry and start a family of her own - the natural course of events. Her beloved doll would then become her daughter's.
Now she was going and leaving her past behind. Ahead of her was nothing but a gray and lonely unknown. It would be impossible to take the mementos of the past with her. Her only choice was to leave everything behind in the care of her family and hope there would come a time when she could reclaim her past.
Flindra heard someone coming up the stairs. She quickly tried to hide her tears for she'd vowed not to let her sorrow be seen.
"Flindra," her mother said as she brushed aside the curtain. Her hands were still dusted with flour and she wiped them on her apron. "Little one, I heard you crying."
"I'm all right, Momma," she answered from the floor. She still clutched the rag doll to her breast. The rebellious tears returned.
Dakra walked to the bed and sank to the floor beside her daughter. "Oh, little one," she whispered as she gathered Flindra into an embrace. "I'm so sorry, my little one. I'm so sorry." She slowly rocked her back and forth as if she were a tiny babe.
Flindra said nothing for a while as she relaxed in the loving embrace. "Will you take care of her?" she asked in a whisper, referring to the doll.
"Of course, dear one. I'll see to everything."
"Thank you, Momma." She closed her eyes and allowed herself to be comforted.
Dakra began to hum a lullaby she had sung to both her children when they were young. It was soft and soothing and awoke worlds of comfort in its notes.
"I love you, Momma."
"I love you, too, Flindra."
Both of them drew comfort from the closeness and lingered in the embrace. They were stealing a moment from the future when they would be apart.