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Little Laura gazed at the glowing green of the trees above her, laughed at the insistent flutter of the butterflies on her cheeks, and rose to her feet at the sound of thunder. She looked around her not-so-little forest nook and realized she did not hear the twittering of birds, or the buzzing of cicadas. She did not see the blue of the sky or feel the warmth of the summer sun.
The smell of rain was heavy in the air by the time she had packed up her things. Her bag was much too big for her still little frame, but it was all she had. Laura was surefooted as she made her way to her storm house, a deep and well hidden cave not but a few minutes walk from her napping nook. Stepping over fallen, rotting branches, and moss covered rocks, Little Laura made her way to her hidden cave.
On her walk, Laura couldn't help but to shrink away at the rumbling thunder and remember what it had been like not long ago, when her parents would hold her in their arms and whisper reassurances to her until the storm passed. She hadn’t seen them since the mighty winds had swept into her home and tore every wall to the ground. Little Laura was ripped from her thoughts when her foot caught a rather large root. Looking around, she saw she was not far from her cave and smiled in relief.
As she pushed her way past the last line of bushes, lightning flashed. She screamed. Little Laura rushed into the opening of her cave with her hands over her ears and nearly screamed again at the dark figures that awaited her. Before she could get out much more than a whimper, she was lifted into the sky by strong, sure arms then pulled in close to a warm chest in the tightest of hugs she could imagine. It was then that she realized the frantic voices around her were familiar.
Her parents cried, gasped, and sighed, every sound heavy with relief. Her father whispered her name, Little Laura, into her hair as if it were a prayer. Her mother sobbed and cooed to her, holding one of her hands as if Little Laura would float away with the next breeze. No one seemed to notice as the rain arrived and the storm grew. Lightning struck, thunder rumbled, and wind howled outside their safe haven. A tree was grounded by a particularly strong blow, and yet all seemed to be well within the cave.
Seconds turned into minutes, minutes turned into hours, and the storm finally began to settle. The family of three hardly noticed, for Little Laura had begun to tell her parents all that transpired while she was alone in the forest. She spoke of friendly butterflies and grand owls. She reminisced about a mother wolf and a father badger, friends of hers when the nights were colder. She laughed about the funny bird calls she heard, and cried about the death of her favorite frog. Her eyes drifted closed as she described the night sky.
Little Laura awoke to the sun glinting harshly off the puddles at the doorstep to her cave. She stood slowly, so as to not disturb her exhausted parents, and quietly tiptoed back out into the forest. She knew where the tasty blackberries grew and knew her parents would be hungry when they awoke as well. She smelled the sweet berries before she saw the bushes and hurried in the direction she knew them to be. Little Laura knew her hands would be too small to feed them all, so she pulled the hem of her very dirty shirt up to her rib cage to create a small basket. She didn’t spend much time picking the berries, Laura knew her parents would be waking up soon, but she did make sure to only grab the biggest and juiciest ones for breakfast.
With her makeshift basket full to the brim, Little Laura made her way carefully back to the cave. It wasn’t long before she heard the wailing. Laura became worried and quickened her step, intent on getting back to her parents where she would be safe. The wailing got louder, and another voice joined the awful chorus. Terrified now, she was almost running through the forest to get back to her parents. She turned around the last tree, pushed through the last of the bushes and discovered the origin of the horrible wails and cries.
Little Laura froze in her steps, frightened of the scene before her. Her mother was curled in on herself, clutching something small to her chest. Her father was similarly curled up, but his arms were wrapped around her mother. At the startling caw of a nearby crow, she stepped forward and entered the cave. “Mother,” she called, ”Father, what’s wrong? What happened?” Their echoing cries were their only response. Worried now, she tried again. “Mother, Father, what’s the matter? Can’t you hear me?” She bent down in front of her mother and reached out her hand. She couldn’t feel the warmth of her mother’s cheek. Confused, she reached out again, and stumbled forward when her hand passed through her mothers arms. Laura looked to her father, but he didn’t seem to notice her presence, either.
Laura put her hand to the ground in an effort to stand up to try to gain her father’s attention, and the blackberries fell to the ground. She was there, laying on the floor, being held in her mother’s arms, being clutched so tight she couldn’t see herself breathing. She couldn’t hear her parents' cries anymore, and when she blinked in confusion she realized her cave had disappeared as well.
Little Laura looked around for some kind answer, but all that greeted her was a soft white ground, and a sky full of more stars than she’d ever seen. “Ms. Laura Drew.” She turned in fright and saw a tall woman standing regally behind her. She was wearing a royal blue robe, like the angels often wore on Little Laura’s Christmas tree. The stranger’s face looked friendly and was framed by long brown hair with soft curls. Too frightened to speak, Little Laura could only stare. The tall woman reached out her hand, palm up, inviting, open. “It’s okay, Little Laura, I’m here to help you and to guide you on your journey.”