"Dear Grizelda,
We have tried to protect you. Our family has been persecuted for time immemorial for one reason; we are what many call "witches". We did not choose to be witches, we were born this way. We are guardians of the earth. We are protectors of the weak, and comforters of the frail and ill. We have been this way as far back as any generation can trace, and have always had to be so in disguise.
It is a difficult life. But it can also be a very beautiful life.
I am sure you feel this truth in your bones, as we all have.
In this trunk you will find your legacy. The items we have passed thru generations.
Your Nana refuses to teach you, because she is so frightened that she will lose you. I am not able to teach anything, I dare not go against her wishes.
So, I leave you this letter, knowing that your curiosity will eventually lead you to find it when you open this trunk. I know we will all be gone before you will open it, you are such a good child, you would never disobey.
I wish you to walk in beauty, keep true to your spirit and keep your feet on the earth. Bright Blessings as you find your way. Love, Granny Calla"
Tears streamed down Grizelda's face. Now, finally, she knew why she was different from everyone else. Why she never quite "fit in" with other children. Why she would rather lay on the ground and watch clouds than play "war", and would rather watch the water splashing on rocks than try to drown other kids in it as seemed the be the norm for most.
She was a witch. Natural born to it.
Grizelda removed the top shelf that had held all the notes, and felt like the man who had opened King Tut's tomb..
