Let me tell you a little bit about Raquel. She is a young woman who lives in a small flat in London with three cats. She works as a temp, has food allergies and wears shoes that are a size too big. She has a big heart and an awkward laugh. I am very fond of Raquel and I try to take good care of her. I get her up on time, make sure she remembers to stock up on milk and I make her linger by a nice smelling flower just a moment longer than she would have herself. A couple of times I have lead her down streets where someone else has dropped some coins, or even a tenner. Maybe she thinks she's just lucky, I don't know. The cats know about me, of course. Cats always do.
To the woman two doors down, Raquel symbolizes freedom. The woman herself was married by the age of eighteen, and a mother three times over by twenty-five. As far as she's concerned her life was already over by then. But when she sees Raquel walking past her window in her colorful skirts, headphones in her ears, softly singing along, the older woman gets a glimpse of hope. It is always mixed with some regret, but the feeling reminds her that she is not dead yet. Nothing is too late. In a young man on the underground Tuesday and Thursday mornings, Raquel invokes curiosity and desire (and a small amount of fear). One morning he spotted her running down the steps while the tram doors were closing and he got in the way of them to give her three precious extra seconds. The smile Raquel gave him made the young man think about the future, about love.
Then who am I, you may ask? I don't have a name, but I have been called a number of things; Fate, coincidence, luck. I am not the hero of this story, I am simply a catalyst. I make sure my charges are where they need to be at any given time, but they are the ones who provide others with that ever important sense of meaning, of purpose. I have hundreds of charges all over the world but Raquel is something special, with the way she seems to instantly awaken other people's memories, dreams and desires. Just yesterday, she inspired a man to reach out to a daughter he hadn't spoken to in years, and she defused a fight between two sisters with that awkward laugh of hers. Aren't humans wondrous?
I love dear Magaly's Witches in Fiction's title this year:
Spelling Healing into a Rotting World. I wanted - nay, I needed - to write
something uplifting, hopeful. It's highly unusual for me (maybe I have run into
one of the charges..? ;)) so I'm unsure of the result, but I hope you liked it!
Now hop on over to her blog and the other participants' blogs,
and get your seasonal dose of healing words.