Monday's child is fair of face.
Tuesday's child is full of grace.
Wednesday's child is full of woe.
Thursday's child has far to go.
Friday's child is loving and giving.
Saturday's child works hard for a living.
But the child who is born on the Sabbath Day,
Is bonny and blithe and good and gay.
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Mondays child is fair of face,
"He's a beautiful child," a neighbor commented. His mother smiled and accepted the complement with her characteristic grace.
It was no flattery. He was a charming child, a beautiful little boy.
Giving and possessive; empathic and cruel, open and deceptive. He was enslaved since birth, by birth, but somehow fiercely free. He had the light gold suns as his hair and the dark blue night sky as his eyes. Monday's child had his faults, but was so compassionate, so charming it was hard not to smile and brush them away. After all, no one was perfect.
After his work was done and before he was called in to sleep, he and his friends amused themselves with toyless games in the street. Shadows flickered on his face and in his eyes as he laughed and played in twilight.
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Tuesdays child is full of grace,
She was a good girl.
That's why it was sometimes hard to understand why her family was gone. Naomi, an older slave, assured her that it was no one's fault but the pirates that they were killed and she taken. There was nothing she could have done. But at night, when she began to forget them, it was hard not to feel guilty.
Still, Tuesday's child adapted and learned to live as well she might. She was graceful, hardworking, and humble, but unbroken, even as she was passed from one master to another. So when the ship landed on her newest home there was still light in her eyes as she looked out over the sand.
It was not an easy life. But even with lowered eyes and worn hands, she managed to smile.
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Wednesdays child is full of woe,
His parents didn't love him. They went through all the right motions with him and each other, but he could feel the difference between them and some of his friends' parents. He was a prop, not a beloved child.
He learned to act; to become part of the façade of his parent's perfect marriage. He feigned ignorance though he knew, somehow, his mother loved a man who had died so settled and his father didn't want to be married at all, but needed the business connections. He continued the pretense that they were a family instead of three people living alone under one roof. He pretended when he knew the truth, smiled when he wanted to scream, heard "I love you" and lie, lie, lie, in the same breath…
Despite himself, he grew to hate them.
After deception for so long truth was like a splash of cold water on a hot day. He stood outside his family's burning house next to the stranger who got him out. The man said he burnt it down and killed the boy's parents. The Sith wanted him. The dark man did not lie and say love.
So Wednesday's child left the light of the fire to go with him.
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Thursdays child has far to go,
He ran. He didn't need to look to know security was on his heals. But they didn't know the back alleys as well as he did.
They went right as he ducked left. Clearly these guy has chased him too many times if they knew one of his usual hiding spots was that way. He shrugged and decided he just wouldn't go back there. He didn't miss it, didn't think twice about leaving it behind like a rock-snake leaves behind an old skin.
Thursday's child had no home, not since he left the orphanage. He liked the streets better. Sure he couldn't get regular meals or shelter. But the freedom, the freedom made it more than worth it.
Let the other kids dream of being something great, so long as there were no walls, he could laugh.
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Fridays child is loving and giving,
His parents loved him. He may have been an orphan, but he knew this through (almost) forgotten dieing words and impressions from something he didn't understand. He knew he was not abandoned; he was lost.
He never called his aunt and uncle mother and father even though they raised him. Perhaps it was because as he slept, he heard whispers telling him of forbidden, galaxy-changing love. (And he knew that the dreams came not because he wanted more family, but because he searched for truth.) Or maybe because he subconsciously hoped that by leaving the parental spot open he could somehow persuade his to return.
That was nonsense of course and there was work to be done.
Planets away his twin learned her parents died to give her life and became determined to give all she had as they did. She learned of her mother's views, politics, involvement in the rebellion and was fiercely determined to follow, to help however she could.
Meanwhile Friday's first child learned nothing, but loved them anyway as he could do nothing else.
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Saturdays child works hard for his living,
He was a good boy.
He couldn't understand, then, why Mom had to die. Dad said it wasn't his fault and he believed him, most of the time, but sometimes at night or with the other kids it was harder. Still life went on as life does and he was close to his father. They tended to the machines on the farm together and could rest at night with the satisfaction that comes with hard work.
When Dad remarried life changed but for the better and not too much. Shmi seemed to fit right in, like she had always been there. There was a bit of an adjustment, and then all three fell into a new rhythm. There was still work to do and life to live. Saturday's child rose rested and went to bed satisfied. What more could he want?
It was not an easy life, but a good one. And he found himself content.
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And the child that is born on the Sabbath day
Is bonny and blithe, and good and gay.
"She's a beautiful child, a neighbor said. Her mother laughed and deflected the complement with the customary elegance.
But she was more than that and her parents were proud of her.
Giving and kind; compassionate and well-behaved; intelligent and cheerful. She was her parent's perfect child. Loved and admired by all, so charming that she didn't attract the jealousy one might expect. Sunday's child seemed so good. Let the universe be mean and ugly at times, she was always untouchable.
After winning the final debate, despite competing in the age-group above her own, she walked to the front to the stage to accept the applause. A demure smile rested on her lips as she acknowledged the crowd and wished she could scream.