When the morning comes

52 | coming home

"I don't understand anything." I held the knitted heart to my chest and closed my eyes. The memories flooded back, how Aurora was lying on the bed. Upon her stomach, with her feet in the air. I had been reading books, sitting in the rocking chair, which had been standing in our bedroom.

Sometimes I eyed her. I would feel the edges of my lips trying to curl. She was humming an Italian song. Her black, silky hair falling over her face, to which she tucked it behind her ear with an Italian curse.

"Au-ro-ra." I sang. "What are you doing?"

Aurora looked up, smiled mischievously. "Showering you with love." She would throw the finished knitted hearts my way, a few hitting my face with some force. "And more.. and more." She would throw loads of hearts, pulled me upon the bed and kissed me deeply.

Rolling on top of each other, kissing some more, sharing laughs. "Amore?"

She was on top by now, I looked into her almond eyes, while the tips of her locks tickled my face softly. Her gaze turned serious, with a soft frown creasing her forehead. "I want to give those hearts to people who just need some support. Comfort, even."

"Like who?" I tucked her hair behind her ear. It fell right back onto my face.

"Anyone we meet." Aurora rested her head onto my chest, drew circles on my arm. "Anyone who is suffering. I've been knitting loads."

"I think that's lovely."

"Me too." She agreed, blowing my disheveled hair from my forehead. "When I was young, you know, fourteen.." I clenched my jaws, feeling the deep pain of her traumatic experience. "In church, not a lot of people knew what to say to me, but at one point, a younger girl came over to me and handed me a drawing. Do you know what it said?"

"Tell me, Amore."

"It was a drawing of a heart, with the words 'God loves Aurora' written in the middle." Aurora's eyes teared up. "Oh Sole, you have no idea how much that meant to me around that time. I stared at the drawing every single day, it gave me so much hope. It had lifted my heart."

I smiled sadly, kissed her gently.

"I want to be like that little girl. And not for my glory, but for His glory. Just spreading some love. That's all."

"You selfless woman." I whispered, remembering the pain of her trauma, Eden and more.

"Ugh." She rolled her eyes, cursed at me in Italian, then pushed me off the bed. "Get back to reading, I have things to knit."

"Okay, okay." I lifted my hands in surrender, but couldn't keep my eyes off her when I was back in that chair.

"I don't understand anything." I repeated, brushing my thumb over the wool Aurora had once touched. "I don't understand.."

"That's alright." Salomé assured me, watching how my hands slowly fiddled with the little heart. "Me neither. But God.." She smiled softly, shook her head.

I swallowed, looked sideways to Salomé. "Salomé? Can you tell me more?"

Salomé pulled up her knees, pulled her dress down, over them. I could tell it pained her to think about her past, but she tried. For me. "I got infections. A lot of them. We were among the poorest in Nigeria, they didn't have much medical knowledge, not even the doctors. Which was more than understandable- those people hadn't been given equal chances to have education, seeing they were poor."

"My dad decided to travel back to England, so I could get the treatment I needed." Nervously, Salomé played with a strand of hair. I wondered if she re-experienced everything in her mind. "During the long travel, the infections got worse. I had high fevers. So high, that I was very drowsy and sometimes unresponsive to my surroundings."