It takes a village to raise a child. ~ African proverb

Rodia, 32 BBY

"The child is truly extraordinary. It would be an honour if you would permit us to take her for training."

The young Rodian mother quirked her head to the side, looking at the Jedi who had come to her house that morning. Her child, her first and only daughter, clung to her and attempted to pull on her mother's drooping antennae while she was in deep thought. She had much to think about.

She knew that her family was poor: in fact, they had very little and everything that they tried to improve their lot seemed to only drain away what few resources they had. She wanted better for her children, if she could find a way to do so. Any way- the Jedi were offering an opportunity for that, for her daughter at least. She knew that her little one was special- she just hadn't known how special. The young Rodian woman didn't want to part with her little one, she knew that. But she also knew that she had little choice.

Still, that did not mean in her heart of hearts that she wanted to do this without any form of regret or guilt. She would be missing her child's life: her first steps, her first words, and her first day of school- her first everything, really. Part of her definitely resented that idea and screamed in her mind that this outrage could not stand. Little Meeta was her child, her daughter, and these strangers had no right to take her away from her family to claim the child as their own. That part of her believed that the Jedi couldn't raise Meeta as well as her loving family could. The part of her that felt that it was fundamentally wrong to ask parents to part with their beloved children, never to see them again.

But in the end, the young mother knew that this side of her couldn't be allowed to win. Not with little Meeta's future at stake- a future that these Jedi had promised to deliver. A future where her child was certain to suffer no privation as she surely would if she remained in her parents' custody. A future where her child could take off in thousands, if not millions of wondrous directions that she couldn't see. And these were the thoughts that sealed her decision.

With tears running down her cheek, the young Rodian mother nodded her assent and handed her daughter over to the Jedi. She felt like a knife was tearing apart her insides, cutting sharply and deeply through her very soul. But she forced herself to do it anyways, for the sake of little Meeta.

As she forced herself to do this thing that she had to do, it occurred to the young mother that perhaps there was one thing that she might do to remain connected to her daughter. It was a rather small thing, something that would normally be considered very trivial later in life. But to the mother, in that moment, it became the most important thing in the world.

"Master Jedi, could I ask just one favour of you?" she asked tearfully. She didn't believe that it would be possible that they would see fit to grant her this one favour but she had to try.

The Jedi quirked an elegant eyebrow and looked impassively at the woman. It wasn't unusual, he thought, that the parents of Jedi candidates would ask a favour of the Order prior to their being taken to Coruscant for training. Usually, it involved the gifting of some trinket or another. In the most extreme cases, the parents clambered for continued contact with their children. The first type of request was judged on a case-by-case basis, though it was typically granted. The latter type of course, given the Jedi rule regarding attachments, was always denied. He took in a deep breath and counted to three in his head. He really hoped that he didn't have to deal with the latter type today; his job was difficult enough at times without having to deal with that one.

He could only hope that the Force had chosen to grant him that small mercy today.

"What is your request, madam?"

"I would ask of you Master Jedi that she is allowed to keep her name. I hear at times that the Jedi Order changes the names of the children given to them. I...know...that I won't be able to know her after this. I...I've...accepted that and I think I can learn to live with that. But, could she, do you think...keep her name? Please?" she nearly seemed to lose it at several points but managed to make her request.

The Jedi Master felt relieved. Deeply, deeply relieved that he wouldn't have to worry about the latter type of request today and quietly muttered thanks to whatever had seen fit to grant him this small mercy. He had seen far too much of this in his work on behalf of the Acquisition Division lately.

"What is the child's name?"

"Meeta, sir. Her name is Meeta." The woman said with a degree of uncertainty, her antennae nervously twitching.

He considered that for a moment. Meeta, meaning beloved in some obscure Rodian dialect, if he recalled correctly. It was a name that showed to the entire world how loved this child was and how loved she would no doubt always be- even if she never stepped foot on Rodia again for the rest of her days. This might be a borderline problem- given the strictness of the Council these days in regards to the attachment rules. But then again, it might be completely allowable. It was, after all, just a name.

"Alright. I'll see what I can do for you, but I'm not going to make any promises. It'll be up to the minders of the training clan that she'll be placed with in the end, I'm afraid." He sighed.

Her antennae drooped momentarily and she quietly nodded her acceptance of this as well. It seemed as if she had given up all hope of some remaining connection with her child. That she had lost everything.

As she left the pair of Jedi, the Jedi Master looked down at the Rodian infant in his arms. And for once in his work delivering Force-sensitive younglings to the Temple, he found himself completely at a loss for what he was going to do with this one.

When he arrived back at the Temple with the Rodian infant, he found that he was to deliver the child to the Acklay Clan, which was the clan now taking in new initiates at the moment. He pitied the child in a way, knowing the master in charge of the clan at the moment. Master S'Dseena, the Theelin woman in charge of the Acklays, wasn't known for being the kindest of minders and was definitely not one of the ones known for accommodating the various requests of the birth parents of Jedi initiates.

He was forced to wait in the Master's office for an hour- apparently Master S'Dseena was busy bringing a number of other initiates into the Acklays today. And he observed the utter chaos of it all- the other Knights and Masters, most of whom he knew from the Acquisition Division, rushing about with their young charges, the younglings were for the most part either looking on in a sort of wide-eyed wonderment, sheer terror, or crying their eyes out in total distress. He had seen it all before of course, just never at this level of chaos.

Never have I seen things this insane before. If it gets any worse, perhaps I should look into a new line of work? But then, what sorts of things would I have to contend with then? He thought to himself as he waited for Master S'Dseena to make herself available to him.

His mind promptly ran through various ideas of just what those sorts of things would be if he were ever to leave the Order's Acquisition Division. Tangling with Black Sun enforcers and the leaders of other criminal organisations whilst being completely out of his depth- not something he had ever wanted to do. Working to mediate disputes throughout the galaxy and therefore sticking his nose very deeply in the business of other beings- again, given the limited social skills he seemed to be able to call upon when dealing with elites, would never be a good idea. He was too highly attuned to the Living Force- sensing the potential of others and feeling all of the inherent beauty it all. He also seemed to find his social skills when dealing with the parents of potential initiates and the initiates themselves.

It was a strange thing really. One would normally think that a lack of social skills in one arena would certainly transfer into another just as easily. And he had no idea why it was, only that it was.

More time passed, which caused the Jedi Master to reflect even more on many things. Eventually, his mind drifted to the way in which initiates were raised inside the Temple walls. It was a way that few seemed to understand.

Younglings were raised in clans from the moment they came to the Temple. To many, it was a cloistered environment that was seen to result in arrogant Jedi out of touch with reality as a result of what must be lonely childhoods. He knew better though.

There no doubt was something to the arrogant idea: Jedi did have a sometimes well deserved reputation for it. The idea of being out of touch with reality might in some cases go along with that. But the lonely childhoods, no, there was no way he would ever agree with that.

His own time in the training clans brought out for the most part, pleasant and wondrous memories of childhood's golden days. The constant companionship, the earliest forms of training in the Force, the chance to explore the inner depths of the Temple when the adults weren't looking, the good-natured pranks, the laughter, the friendships made, and the friendly competitions of sparring that took place before one by one, he and his friends graduated to Padawan status when they were chosen. And little Meeta, just like all the other infants and toddlers brought to the Temple on this day, was about to start on that same journey.

Once the child was handed over and thankfully, for once, Master S'Dseena allowed the child to keep her birth name, the Jedi Master actually paused and had the thought to look at the name plate above the door to the Theelin Jedi's office. He had never looked at this particular name plate before but had looked at the ones of other crèche Masters that he normally dealt with. They had mottos or proverbs that each Master found either particularly powerful, amusing or simply maintained from their predecessors.

Those ones could become particularly outdated if kept for centuries. As he recalled, Master Thessen Royale's name plate held the saying "Don't forget your shoes and drink before you leave", which had been maintained there for approximately two centuries. And influenced by his sometimes antagonistic relationship with Master S'Dseena, he shuttered to think of what this name plate said.

So, it was to his surprise that he found a rather innocent and powerful saying above the Theelin's door:

It takes a village to raise a child.

Fin