Little mama’s little story

Today’s little story is a slice of cake in celebration of mama bear. 

Once upon a time mama bear was a young cub growing and wandering in a cozy little village that was much too small for her larger than life curiosity. One day little mama had a chance encounter that would unravel like a fortune cookie. It was a warm dusty day when little mama got her first glimpse of a future beyond the walls of her family home. Maybe it was because of her curiosity that the mysterious gypsy chose her door to stop in front of. Maybe the gypsy woman peered past the gates and was met with a child full of potential and a fate full of twists of heartache and turns of joy. Maybe the gypsy felt the pull of little mama’s magnetic spirit and couldn’t resist the opportunity to examine the extraordinary aura around her; it was a curious case indeed to see such delicate and truly beautiful features on the outside of a child in contrast to her fiery fearless soul. Whatever it was, the gypsy knew she had to stop and tell the little girl what fate had scribbled sometimes delicately and sometimes menacingly along her lifetime. 

Before the gypsy could get a word in, little mama’s voice rang out clear and authoritative, “Maa’s not here, come back later if you want some food.” The gypsy half-grinned, should’ve known she’s as sassy as she is striking
“Little one it’s you who has pulled me through your gates. I need not your food, it is your mind’s company I wish to keep.” Little mama sat still. It was the gypsy’s honey-laced voice that first grabbed her interest followed by her puzzling words. Little mama glanced up to see an anomaly sight: there stood a woman who looked neither old nor young dressed in garbs that didn’t seem to belong in this century, with ancient charms dangling from her sleeves, she spoke again, “Beware little wanderer, for the far off lands hold a sky of highs and crashing lows for you...your fighter spirit seems to always prevail but what strength and grit it will take for your emerald soul to shine and cast its elegance on those it beholds...” 

The gypsy’s eyes seemed to cloud just as her voice trailed off. Little mama’s eyes became the thin cracks between the almond and it’s shell. “Get out of here! You are not the first counterfeit fortune teller to walk through this village.” The gypsy’s cloudy eyes flashed back to the here and now full of striking lightening. “You will remember this day for the rest of your years little one. You will see death kiss your loved one with its sickly venom. You will show death it can’t beat you and travel all of the world’s corners. You will have a life that helps others daily, and on your hardest days, your help will be repaid by the hundreds. The sharp tongue you speak with will be your armor, your beauty will be your grace. And just as I will never forget your exquisite face, you will never shake these words.” With one last enchanting glance, the gypsy whooshed away with only the jingling bells on her charms confirming she was ever there to begin with. Little mama, ever the smart ass, muttered as the jingles disappeared, “Go to hell gypsy lady, my fate will be written solely by me.”

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