This windy day, Hannah receives a willow leaf which glides into her top pocket like an angel’s wing; instantly, it caresses the scars upon her soul and nestles by her heart. Her destiny scripts itself upon a tiny frame: “The Comforter” — she barely knows what this means. She dreams of beauty and an escape above the crevasse where she lives. Someday, she will sing gentle music to them, and the presence of Love will calm all things. She smiles tenderly in the face of reality.

Her Father prods her with an unusual affection; that yelling voice. Each time, she cringes, wanting to cry and hide. When she can, she hides like a little bird under a bush in the midst of a thunderstorm. His anger pierces her very soul, and she is left wanting very little from him, from anyone. Delicate petals within her mind begin to form as thoughts, and imaginary companions. She rests easily here. This is her fantasy land, pure and safe. Isolated, she calls upon her own imagination to feed an internal flame. It is then, she embraces her destiny in this world.

Her Mother is busy in the kitchen, the clatter of dishes repeat a job almost done. She notices a single rose upon the table, shriveled and dry, barely opened at all. Hannah longs for a tender embrace as this floral stem sucks for more water. She settles on the couch, looking through the clear glass window aching for a faraway place. Her thoughts drift in and out, amidst the emptiness of her soul. Her teddy brings relief as she turns to care for him. The clock dongs to announce the midnight hour; she rushes off to her bedroom where she places her rugged yet silvery shoes in the moon shine.

In her dreams, The Wings of Flight call upon her like a gentle dove. She soars in consciousness and becomes One with the Wind. The Willow tree sways outside of her window and gives a gentle lullaby. Hannah holds her teddy near to her heart and a soft illumination rests upon her face and gentle heart. A tender soul, she is floating.

Then, like high-pitched violin sounds around her, soon she can barely breathe. They are fighting again. She wants to hide under the bed but she cannot fit too easily; she snuggles in the far back of her closet behind her lengthy dresses. Lately, she goes numb inside, almost used to the evil spirits that comb this house. Hannah plays with her building blocks, and she begins to create a new world for herself; first in her mind, next, the passage through her heart becomes a very, very soft place – Refuge.

At dusk, she notices the rain falls gently upon her window. A heart leaf falls against the pane; she touches the outline with her fingers. By morning, it is only a memory, and a hand print that remains.

- – - -

Jenn Zuniga:

This Short Story: “The Gift of One’s Self” is written to challenge all human beings to understand the ripple affects of our actions on one another, as well as to appreciate the value of each heart and soul. Once wounded, it takes years to find refuge form a broken home, to believe in Love, for the Wings of Flight to invite Homecoming.

she is a heart-warming writer who focuses on protecting and sustaining moral values in the heart, and home, to better our world today. She is also the author of Love’s Leading Companion, a modern re-telling of an ever-after story inviting the reader into their own heart’s homecoming

We have many contest stories. Among them is The banyan tree.