I remember the sun.

Its warmth welcomed me outside, like you both did that morning.

The kites soared higher than I thought possible

And the laughter of the children rang in the air.

I stumbled outside with my Pooka clutched tight in my paw.

And I was happy.

I remember fire.

The strangers brought it with them; it ate up our houses.

They chased our people with claws and teeth bared

And the screams of terror echoed through our village.

I squeeze my Pooka close to me and whimper.

And I was frightened.

I remember teeth.

The long sharp daggers that glinted in the light of the flames.

Before they could strike, Baba stopped them

And told you to take me and to run.

I loosen my grip on my Pooka and I lose him.

And I was terrified.

I remember snow.

As we run into the wood, it flies so thick that it blinds me.

I see one of the strangers; the one Baba hit with his hammer

His eye is missing, but he and his teeth close in.

I turn to you as you dodge their lunges.

And I was worried.

I remember you.

We stopped running from the strangers, you put me in a bumpy box.

I start to cry, but you comfort me like you always do.

I take your hand and smile and you do the same

While tears escape your eyes, you turn and run into the night.

And I was sad.

I remember now

You led the strangers away to save me.

I know you loved me, you always did and you always will.

In saving me, you saved the future savior of my home

I became the warrior everyone waited for.

And I am at peace.