A SILVER-HAIRED GIRL
Writer: Made Hery Santosa
“Why is my hair silver, mother?” asked a young, but crippled, little girl to her mother on a cold winter day.
“Oh, it’s because you were born at night,” said the mother, wisely looking at the girl’s round eyes.
“I don’t understand,” said the young girl. Her eyes got widened. “Why could it become silver when I was born at night?” The girl asked, full of wonder.
“That night was full of stars and the moon shone brightly. Seemed perennial. And one day, you’ll see,” replied her mother.
“Why is my hair silver mother?” A one-legged child asked her mother on a dry summer day.
“It’s because you were born during the daylight, my love,” replied the mother, full of compassion
“I don’t understand,” the girl responded with her eyes got smaller, “why would it be silver if I was born during the daylight?
“That day was very hot with a dry air breeze. It’s seemingly perpetual. And one day you’ll see.”
“Why is my hair silver, mother?” asked a one-eyed cheerful daughter to her mother, while she’s in roaming walks.
“Oh, it’s because you were born in a day where the sun was reluctant, sweetheart.” Her mother replied patiently.
“I don’t understand,” replied her quickly, “why would my hair be silver when there was little sun?”
Her mother, while caressing her, said “Because the moon would accompany.”
“Why is my hair silver, mother? Why is it different to others?” A young girl asked her mother curiously.
“It’s because you were born when the sea was in tides.” Her mother replied, gently embracing her.
“I don’t understand,” she shook her shoulders quite strongly. “Why would my hair become silver if the tides were high?”
“My love, the tide is a mystery. The full moon shone brightly and the sea touched its passion.” Her mother replied, full of warmth.
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