Everyone says birth is the finest miracle in life. But they think it means producing regular babies, normal creatures and people.
They never think it means countries. Most people think the countries come from a population deciding on being a country.
Wrong.
I don't remember, exactly, when I come into being, when I was born. I just remember suddenly waking up in a field. It was summer; at least, it was warm and sunny that day, with a few clouds rolling across the sky. I was naked and felt no shame in it. I lay in a little, baby-me sized hole in the ground. Grass and leaves covered me and tickled my nose. I think the first thing I did was sneeze. My very first memory is that of closing my eyes and listening. I could hear the sound of people walking on my shores, the animals running across the plains. I felt a strange connection to those wandering on my land, like I knew what they were. They were like me. I had no idea what that meant, though.
After a while, I stood up and tried walking, kinda like a foal does. I failed at it the first few times, then managed to totter a few steps. Then, I was walking, then running. I figured out pretty quickly I liked to run.
I slowed down and started to walk. I walked for hours, covering several miles. See, when you don't know you're supposed to eat or be thirsty, food or water never cross your mind. I had no idea I was supposed to munch on stuff like the deer or birds I saw.
Pretty soon, I was at the edge of a village. They made funny noises, speaking was the word I learned for it, and made me laugh.
A man noticed me, and my nakedness, and walked towards me. I backed away, not sure what I should do.
"Don't be scared." He said, smiling. He seemed to know what I was, just like I knew what he was. "Do you want something to wear?" I just stared at him.
"Wear?" I asked, copying him. He picked at his clothes.
"To cover up." He said.
"Oh, yes please!" I said. He came towards me and knelt.
"I'm going to pick you up, alright?" he asked. I stared again. "I won't hurt you." He lifted me into his arms and wrapped part of his coat around me. "This way no one will tease you."
He continued to smile at me as he found something small enough for me to fit into.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"I don't know." His smile vanished.
"You don't know?" he repeated. "You're a new country. Sweden called you Newfoundland but I thought that name was lame. Spain's been calling you America, France says Amerique, and Britain says America. Maybe you're America!" He smiled again.
"I don't know." I said again. I slid out of the chair and toddled to the door. "Thanks for the shirt. I'll see you later." And I left.
That pretty much sums up my first day of life.
But, I don't think of that day, whatever day it was, as my birthday. I became the country I am today, on July 4, 1776. That's my birthday, that's the day I stopped being Britain's colony and became America. Admittedly though, I didn't become the United States of America until 1789. But that's a different story.
It doesn't really explain how I even ended up in that baby-me sized hole but I don't think that matters. If you do, that's your problem.
So, I'm going to open up the next ones I do to requests.
031. Sunrise.
032. Sunset.
033. Too Much.
034. Not Enough.
035. Sixth Sense.
036. Smell.
037. Sound.
038. Touch.
039. Taste.
040. Sight.
041. Shapes.
042. Triangle.
043. Square.
044. Circle.
045. Moon.
If you want me to, I will write something for you using one or two of these prompts. Just send me which one (or two) you would like and a short summery of what exactly you want in it.