Her name was Magnolia Pearl and she had crystal blue eyes. She was born in a gypsy wagon in the woods with the sounds of trickling water and the Earth to welcome her into the world. There was nothing average about her. She barely cried her first cry. She was a peaceful baby born at sunrise and surrounded by love. The love of her mother, father, God and the love of the universe.
As she grew she was funny, bright and loving. Her laughter sounded like wind chimes. In her mother and fathers eyes she was perfect. Bright blue eyes and long dark curls. She could swim like a fish and run like the wind. She spoke with a soft Southern lilt.
In the evenings she sat by the fire and listened to her the stories her father would tell her. Tales of life lived in far away lands. Travels around the world. Tales of how he met her mother and how their love and dreams grew into her. Of the day she was born and the joy that she brought them. She learned of her ancestors and religion.
Friends they made here and there on their travels tried calling her Maggie, but she insisted they call her by her given name, Magnolia Pearl. When someone questioned her instance she would explain the meaning of her name. Magnolia, the state flower of Louisiana. A tall strong tree with its roots firmly in the ground and beautifully scented creamy white flowers. And Pearl. A tiny grain of sand lovingly wrapped in a shell, cherished until it was ready for the world to see.
Just like her.
Her mother and father had waited a lifetime and then some for her arrival. And unexpectedly she came at sunrise on a spring morning.
One night while her mother watched her sleep tucked in rich blue velvet, Magnolia pushed her hair from her face. And in an instant her mother saw Magnolia's future. Not as the beautiful precocious child, but as the woman she would be. Happy, healthy and wise.
Magnolia Pearl was a little girl born of love, dreams and hope. A little girl raised in a Gyspy Wagon deep in the woods, by a stream, surrounded by love.