The Housewife's Tale

She began to realize gratefulness had wound itself around her like a hug. She was counting the ways, remembering her days outside the castle walls in the darkness, fighting dragons by herself.

She'd been told that life was found in the shadows. If you were powerful enough, you would control the creatures that gnashed their terrible teeth. If you can bring down a dragon nothing can defeat you. 

"Everything will be fine then and only then," they told us. 

It was a lie, wasn't it? Dragons aren't defeated that way.

Selfishness had bred sorrow in her. She was hoping to have seen the last of it. It never cared much for her anyway. It was a cruel friend. Now she watched the sunrise with eyes wide open, no longer afraid of how it would disperse the shadows and change darkness into light. 

She thought of the times she'd stared into the sun and it had terrified her. She wasn't enough or all right or in control. She never knew the secret password or the code everyone else seemed to know. She did not know which shoes matched that dress or why her hair did not look like hers. 

She was alone. 

That was her own doing. She had pushed the world away. But it came back. It met her at the shore and said hello. Then, because she was seeing for the first time what was real and what wasn't, she embraced it. She didn't have to conquer the world by herself. She was not her own god. 

She was not alone. 

She hadn't realized how much that would mean to her one cool day in May when the sun was shining and the coffee was strong and she had people who needed her. She had become grateful.