Marley was seven when she realised that she was different. She wasn't stupid; she realised that not every kid went to a thrift store and got 4 sweaters for a dollar, and she realised that not every kid's mom was the "creepy" lunchlady.
But third grade was when kids started to get mean. And Marley thought that maybe different was good.
Her mom was all she had. Her dad had jetted off not too long after she was born, and her mother had been struggling to make ends meet since. The way she saw it, her mom was the most beautiful woman she knew; strong and kind and loving in every way. Marley couldn't understand how anyone could be so cruel, so petty as to judge someone by the way they look on the outside. She wasn't very religious, but she did believe that humans weren't defined by their bodies. She believed that soul and spirit were the only things that mattered.
And when Marley was seven, she found her soul and spirit in her voice.
She used to play alone a lot, because no one wants to be friends with the weird lunchlady's daughter. And third grade was the year she found the daisy field. It was mostly grass now that she was a sophomore in high school, but she remembers it being beautiful. All high stems and white pedals, fragrance and insects, and she would play in that field for hours, singing and twirling and being free. She would sing to the butterflies and laugh when they would land on her and tickle her skin. She would sing to the bees and smile when 5 of them would land on one flower, as if they were listening raptly. And then she would go home and sing to her mom while she made dinner, sing her miscellaneous notes that she had strung together, or maybe a song she had heard on the radio on her school bus. Marley could hear a song and commit every lyric and note to heart within a few listens.
Third grade was when her mother called her Magic Marley. Because Ms. Rose was convinced that her daughter was magical, the way she could sing and calm her every worry. Somehow the fear of not knowing how their electricity would get paid that month would disappear as soon as Marley opened her mouth.
Countless moves to new schools and nine years later, Marley was all spirit, and Ms. Rose could already tell she would be a wonderful woman when she got out on her own. But she always doubted how magical she was.
"You have magic in your throat, Marley. It's time to share it with the world."
