THE GIFT FROM THE RIVER
________________________________________________________________ It was morning in the kitchen. I could hear Amma moving fast, the sound of the ladle on the pot, the rice cooker hissing. The smell of dhal filled the air, warm and thick, wrapping around me like a blanket.
Appa came up quietly behind me. I felt him bend down, his breath warm near my ear. He whispered, so soft only I could hear, “Princess, are you ready to see the world today?” My heart did a little jump.
Day by day I was growing up. I needed to know what the outside world was like. Just because I couldn’t see, they couldn’t keep me inside the house. I could feel everything. The sun on my face. The wind in my hair. The world was waiting.
Later, I heard Appa pull Amma aside. His voice was calm, but strong. “From now on we need to teach Sana everything. So what if she can’t see? She can feel everything. We can’t keep her locked inside just because she can’t see.”
But Amma — Amma was always protective when it came to me. I could hear the worry twisting in her voice, making it thin and anxious. “Sana can’t see. She’s never been anywhere outside until now. Taking her fishing like this won’t be safe for her.”
After hearing that, my chest got tight. I had to make her understand. “Amma, don’t worry, I’m not going alone. Appa will be with me. He’ll take care of me. I’ll be safe. Please Amma, let me go fishing and come back.” I made my voice small, my face all pitiful, almost-teary. The face that usually melted her.
There was a long silence. Then Amma’s sigh. I could hear the fear still shaking in her voice. “Okay... go carefully and come back safely.”
That night I lay between Appa and Amma. The bed felt big and safe. Appa’s shirt smelled like soap and sun. Amma’s hair smelled like coconut oil. I couldn’t keep the questions in. “Appa, what will the river be like? Will the river be cold? Will it make a sound? Will I be able to be there? What will the fish be like? Can I touch them with my hands?”
I felt Appa smile. I heard it in his breath. “Tomorrow you’ll see for yourself, princess. Let’s sleep.”
But I kept asking, laughing against his shoulder. What does a fish fin sound like? How will the water run over my feet? What is Appa going to do? I kept asking until my words got heavy, until sleep pulled at my eyes. Then slowly, I drifted off, my cheek pressed against Appa’s shoulder, his heartbeat steady under my ear.
Next to me, Amma lay awake. I could tell. Her breathing wasn’t deep like sleep. She kept her eyes open in the dark, listening to me breathe. The fear was still in her heart — I could feel it in the way the bed didn’t move, in the way the air felt tight. A mother’s fear. “Tomorrow, let my daughter come back safe,” she prayed silently to herself.
This was Amma’s protection. This was Appa’s love, getting me ready.
NOTE:
(thank you for reading sana's journey )
*Maha the stroyweaver*
