Here is a page from Varna's diary she left in the safe in the Quiet Room last August. It was such a treasure to open the safe and see a page of the diary written, as usual, in purple ink and written on pale, green paper parchment. Kyle, Emily and I never know when we are to receive such a message, but when they come in, we get really excited.
Here are Varna's words: "My forest daughter has a gift for understanding small creatures more than I. While I can talk to larger animals like squirrels and chipmunks, I discovered Violet communicates to reptiles, birds and dragonflies. One day, I came upon her facing a large, spotted, green frog. The frog suddenly leaped onto a large rock where Violet sat.
At first I was afraid for her and started to approach, but I stopped and listened. Violet said, "Frog, you are so beautiful, and I am so happy that you jumped toward me to say hello." I saw the frog allow her a pat on its head. In return, the frog extended its tongue to kiss Violet and turned with a splash to the lake.
Later, while eating our evening meal, I spoke of what I had seen that morning. Violet replied, "Why mommy, I learned by watching you! Can't you communicate with frogs too? You speak to animals and they wag their tails or stop a while to hear you sing."
I smiled and answered that this was true, however small critters seemed to pass me by.
Violet pondered. "When I insects and reptiles and birds, I can feel their gladness on being alive and see that they are happy or just hungry. I 'think' my thoughts to them to let them know I am happy that they are happy." She folded her hands across her chest and nodded with a satisfied grin. Her dragonfly wings gave a happy flutter. It was obvious she was proud of to discover she could intuit and transport thoughts that I could not.
"Violet, I am so proud of you! You are growing as a fairy and seems you have powers that I do not have."
Later that evening, I recollected the first time I saw my fairy daughter. I was leaving my tree home one morning and looked down to see a little girl stretching her neck to look upward. Her eyes were as blue as the sky and her dimpled cheeks cast a smile upon me. I noticed the tiny girl had dragonfly wings attached to the back of her shoulders. Chestnut colored hair, short in length, framed her rosy, oval face. Her tiny feet had green pointed slippers and she was clothed in a violet colored leotard. She stood six inches tall. I bent down on my knees and gently extended the palm of my hand to this lovely new being of the forest. As we looked into each other's eyes, it was as if we knew each other from another world. Or another past.
I often think of my past. My childhood home was the Almond House in Fayetteville, Tennessee, where I was found one early morning. I'm told Colletta, the cook, found me one early morning. I would later beg Colletta over the years to retell the story of that morning, especially the part of finding the note pinned to the blanket in the wicker basket where I was found. Despite my pleas over the years for more details of my mother's words, Colletta would say, "Soon Varna. Wait a bit longer and Kitty Gram will let you read it yourself after you learn how to read."
One day, when I was 6 years old, Gram asked me to speak to me in her office. 'Oh oh', I thought. One glance reassured me. I saw Gram's warm smile, her hand gesturing for me to sit.
"It's time Varna. Now that you can read, I always wanted you to read your birth mother's note."
Gram handed the note to me and my heart beat faster as I read:
"Please take good care of my little baby, Varna. I am unable to keep her, but tell her that I am sorry I cannot raise her or keep her. I will love her and find a way to watch over her from afar. I cannot explain this now."
My next blog will tell you what happened that first day to Varna at Almond House.
Live, laugh, love, Linda