Speak Low
“Her small hand was resting on my shoulder.
Love and gratitude washed over me. I tried to move without waking her, but her round blue eyes opened as I sat up.
“Hi,” I said. “Thanks for letting me have your bear last night.” I held him out to her.
“You’re welcome.” She took the bear and hugged it close. “You were sad about something. Was it the storm?”
I smiled and shook my head. “No.”
“Was it because of Mother? Because I cry about that sometimes too, and I don’t even remember her.”
“No, it wasn’t that either.” I tugged on one of the rags in her hair. “You look like her, you know that?”
“Yes. But I like hearing it.”
I lay down again, propping my head on my hand. “She had red hair and blue eyes, just like we do.”
She squeezed her bear.
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