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The Sleeping Seraph
She was her title to me. A mother.
The sisters raised us all, but I called her mother when I was two. And I only stopped calling her that when I found out the definition of convent in the encyclopedia, why there were lots of sisters and no fathers in our home, and why we were praying words we could not understand instead of playing.
But still, even it was only her title and even I halted calling her mama, she never stopped being one to me. She would sing me a song on my bed because the night was too long for a child. She would reprimand me with a stick on her hand but she never actually hit me. She would explain the whys I could not get from books. And she would carry me from the ground because I got tired from playing to much.
She became the figure I longed for as a child and she painted my childhood with affection. And because of that, I was able to know what was love like. I was able t
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