It's been a few days since the World meeting in London, it was now Friday. Alfred sat himself under a willow tree, relaxing in the shade, as he stared into the river that was only a few feet from him. He thought of how his mother, the personification of Native America, loved nature, how she taught him and his older twin everything she knew. Alfred leaned back, against the rough bark of the tree, his mother, from what his memory supplied, was a very beautiful woman. He remembers her singing and her warm smile that put the sun to shame. He longed to be like her, one with nature, a person people look up to. He smiled fondly as a warm breeze brushed the willow's branches, sweeping the leaves across the ground, and seemed to almost circle him in a warm embrace. And if he listed close enough, he hear a voice, her voice, singing to him in the wind, the same song she used to sing to him and his siblings before they went to bed.
"Ay ay ay ya Ay ay ya" his mother, he heard his mother! He opened his mouth and started to sing, as memories flooded his mind
"Que que na-to-ra You will understand Listen with you heart You will understand Let it break upon you Like a wave upon the sand Listen with your heart You will understand" A tear rolled down his face as he smiled fondly at the water. Only to him, did he hear his mother's voice whisper in his ear
"You will understand..."
His mother was still with him, as he had learned, though he could not see her, he could feel her, and he now knew if he listened closely to the wind, hear her as well. She was alive as long as he was, as long as Matthew was, and as long as his little sister, Rosa, the personification of Mexico, was, then she would live on in their hearts. Maybe, just maybe, he could bring his siblings with him the next time he came here, and hopefully they would understand their mother was always with them.
