Winning Back My Lost Luna!
she whispered in that gentle, conspiratorial voice she used with children, "this brave little butterfly is looking for someone even braver than him to take care of him today."
Millie sniffled, her tears slowing. "I'm brave."
"I knew you were," Eirlys said with a warm smile. "Here, hold him carefully. He likes brave girls."
The little girl accepted the carving with both small hands. By the time Eirlys had gently applied the ointment to her elbow and wrapped it, Millie had forgotten all about crying. She was too busy making the butterfly "fly" across the table.
I smiled to myself from the doorway. Some people healed wounds with herbs and bandages. Eirlys healed fear and sadness with nothing mo