![]() ![]() Mattie slowly pulled on the rough plank door and saw a lithe silhouette in the moonlight. Once she opened the door, her life would forever be divided into before and after. Though she expected this visitor, had anticipated a knock for weeks, she dreaded this moment. ![]() Cradling Samuel so close that she could feel warm puffs against her breast, she shuffled across the packed dirt floor. She gently wiped the glistening sweat away from his damp forehead and gave him a tender kiss upon his temple. ![]() She gazed at Samuel, pressed her nose close against his soft neck to take in his sweet baby scent. She stayed on her pallet, reluctant to end this precious time, and listened to the sound of quiet snores coming from her grandfather. Mattie lay curled around the warm shape of her son when the unwanted messenger knocked. This is as true a story as has ever been told: the story of my love for M attie, and, I suppose, her love for me in return. You will wonder if it is true I can assure you it is, though my parents wish it were otherwise. So along with the comfort of her came the fear that I would lose her someday. Although my family “owned” her, although she occupied the center of my universe, her deepest affections lay elsewhere. That knowledge must have filled me as quickly and surely as the milk from her breasts. ![]()
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