Grief that Runs a River

Chapter One: Acceptance Isn't Always Given Easily

On the sixth day of March, La Casa Madrigal is decorated from top to bottom. Various streamers, balloons, banners , and flowers are scattered across the courtyard. Candles lined up, pointing the way towards the door with swirling gold magic, waiting for little Mirabel to touch the doorknob.

The butterflies seemed to have taken a liking to this ceremony as they were in huge numbers. A particular yellow butterfly was seen resting on the brass knob, not moving ever since they started their day. Despite this being a strange occurrence, no one in the family paid attention.

The sun started to set, and the townspeople readied themselves to attend the gifting ceremony of the youngest Madrigal. Everyone in the town had brought presents for the family who cared and flourished their lives inside the Encanto. Squeals of excitement, the chatter of sparkler-wielding children, and the clatter of the donkey hooves and carts can be heard through the streets as they made their way to Casa Madrigal.

The house began to fill up, and the fragrance of grilled corn cobs, flowers, and homecooked meals spread throughout, enticing the guests. Casita rhythmically moves its tiles, creating a piece of unique and joyous music that is enjoyed by most of the crowd by dancing and humming. The lively atmosphere and the number of people coming were enough to make little Mirabel anxious for her ceremony.

Julieta was combing the whole house looking for her youngest daughter, she tried everywhere, but her efforts were futile. She had asked her familia for help.

Alma, hearing this, sighed. She and Camilo were the only ones who knew where the birthday girl might be. Grabbing the candle from her windowsill, she trudged the path toward the nursery. A little coaxing was enough for Mirabel to climb out the safe corners of the underside of her bed. She was chuckling at the antics of her nieta, knowing that it had been a hideout of every Madrigal kid.

"Come mi vida," Alma pulled Mirabel to sit on her lap, tucking a stray hair behind the child's ear.

"I'm scared, Abuela." Mirabel hid her face in her abuela's chest, taking comfort from the familiar and homey scent she associated with Abuela.

"Abre los ojos. Open your eyes." The girl dutifully opened her eyes behind her oversized, green-rimmed glasses, wherein the Candle's light reflected. Despite seeing it numerous times, she can't help but get awestruck.

"This is where our magic comes from?"

"Mm-hmm, this candle holds the miracle given to our family."

"How did we get a miracle?"

"Long ago, when my three babies had just been born, your Abuelo Pedro and I were forced to flee our home. And though many joined us, hoping to find a new home. We could not escape the dangers, and your Abuelo was lost," describing her most traumatic memory to a five-year-old had been hard, but it must be done as it was a tradition in their familia. "But in our darkest moment, we were given," she paused, "a miracle."

She ripped her gaze from the candle and turned to look at Mirabel, checking if the little one was still listening. She was met with loving eyes, smiling at this little interaction. "The candle became a magical flame that could never go out, and it blessed us with a refuge in which to live. A place of wonder."

"An Encanto!"

"An Encanto. The miracle grew, and our house, our casita itself, came alive to shelter us. When my children came of age, the miracle blessed each with a magic gift to help us. And when their children came of age."

"They got magic too!"

"That's right, and together our family's gifts have made our new home a paradise. Tonight, this candle will give you your gift, mi vida. Strengthen our community, strengthen our home. Make your family proud." Mirabel stared in awe. Alma smiles at her, full of love.