Miricle Find

"Love her, please, love her...and treasure her, and make her feel safe and wanted always. God, let her find good parents, who'd treasure her with undoubted love..."

The whispers flowed from her heart on a river of emotion which, finding no escape through the silent lips, flooded her eyes with a torrent of tears. Taking her blurred gaze from beyond the door which She had vanished forever, Miranda turned once again to the world outside. The sky was pure gold now, and the Mediterranean sparkled a brilliant sapphire, and the glistening blue and gold portrait was framed in the luxuriance of lavender bougainvilleas. Before her, shimmered the glorious day that she hoped, would greet her daughter too. The tranquil beauty nurtured her...

* * * * * *There was a shy, lonely 9 year old girl in an orphanage somewhere, desperate for the gentle love that she obviously needed. She yearned for a mother, a gentle touch and caress of someone who would be there for her, teach her to sew, to bake, to dress-up, to wear make-up and other activities that mothers would teach their daughters to do. She had observed this from pictures in books and magazines, adverts and movies.

Miranda looked back into her daughters eyes, apologies were profusely made and was greeted back with only love. She knew that she was forgiven. They embraced and she became oblivious to everything except her daughter.

Jean's heart felt connected to the ocean, and yet connected to something else. Jean gazed up and her heart racked against her ribcage, and plummeted heavily to the sand. This sudden chill that wept through her, was it simply a reflex learned from years of guarding, steeling her own wild heart whilst looking into the eyes of strangers, seeing her mother? Was this the final dance of the ghost deep inside her, a tormenting phantom that had taunted her with the thought of one day looking into the eyes of her own mother, and demanding to know why she had done this to her? Or was it the swan song of yet another ghost, a smaller and less bold one, that had held onto the defiant hope that one day she would look into her mothers eyes see love?

As years slowly and torturously passed on, she was released from her ‘imprisonment' and was left to wander the city of Athens. She was alone, one again, and now had to provide herself a home, an untouched slate ready for writing upon. She quested a job. her financial status was enough to buy her a litre of milk and a loaf of bread. she dwelled in a shelter while searching for a job opportunity. When she would become fatigued and jaded, she would visit her favourite spot.

Some topics in this essay:
God Love, Thank God, * *, * * *, Oh God, looking eyes, oh god,