Mai had been in this new land for little more than a month, and already her small home was almost ready. Yes. Just a few more little thing to tie everything together. Maybe a small shell, maybe a bright chunk of coral. Something to fill the natural shelving the sea cave had afforded them. Oh, yes. This change was just what her weary heart needed. She had long since assumed her beloved son dead, and the home they had created with him in their lives seemed so dark. The pain was, of course, still there. It would never leave her, of that she was certain. But she also knew not having to stare at what was once his has made the loss easier to deal with.
"Dear, I do wish you would weave me something," she addressed her daughter, plucking some particularly colorful coral and dropping it into a basket she'd picked up on their way to their new home.. "Something nice to hold a few pretties in. You're so talented at the art, after all." And she was. Mai, of course, had some bias, but she believe her daughter to be the best basket weaver she'd ever seen.
"Dear, I do wish you would weave me something," she addressed her daughter, plucking some particularly colorful coral and dropping it into a basket she'd picked up on their way to their new home.. "Something nice to hold a few pretties in. You're so talented at the art, after all." And she was. Mai, of course, had some bias, but she believe her daughter to be the best basket weaver she'd ever seen.