1 month ago
They named you Minnow. A little fish. That’s what they called you when you were caught and put into a box. No doubt because you darted back and forth looking for somewhere to hide. I can’t even imagine how terrifying that was for you. Freedom, the only experience you had ever known, exchanged for a confinement you couldn’t even name. Your life has been mostly fear, and so you have been only brave. Most people could never know how brave it is to simply exist in a world that has all the foreboding of a bad dream. They will call you “fragile” they will think you weak. They will not see the wild that wraps you up so tightly. But there it is. And the world not seeing it, doesn’t mean it isn’t there. I named you Hazel. Because you are of the woods. Fallen straight from the trees. Because although you are just beginning to explore the tall trees, and the dirt paths, and the slippery rocks, that is where you were born. Like me. We were born in the woods. I am certain of it. Not our bodies, but our hearts. This is where our souls were named.