Free

A young Heart

A new day was dawning in a poor little village in the country of Turkey. The last stars from the night before were fading from the royal blue sky in the new streaks of brilliant orange that now were beginning to paint the heavens. An American married couple rode anxiously in the backseat of a taxi along the cobblestoned roads. This would be a day that would forever change their lives, and they were as prepared as they were ever going to be.

Eleanore Whittaker gazed nervously out the window of the taxi at the little shops and markets that lined the side of the road. As they passed an exotic-looking, mediterranean eatery, Eleanore realized that although she had had not a single bite to eat that morning, she wasn't at the least bit hungry. Neither she nor her husband knew what exactly was to lie ahead, all they knew was that they both deeply felt called to be here.

The taxi finally came to a halt in front of an aged, brick building at the end of the street. Eleanor bit her lip when she saw it. The side of the building was painted with graffiti from what appeared to be many years of licentious teenagers of the town making havok. She was rather glad to see that it was written in arabic, and she would never discover what labels have been written on this house that she was about to enter into.

As the couple walked inside the building, Eleanor immediately relaxed slightly. The atmosphere was homey, (of course, probably because the was a home), and the scent of a sizzling Mediterranean breakfast wafted over to where Eleanor stood. Although her nerves prevented her from having an appetite, the scent of any home-cooked meal was enough to make Eleanor's mouth water.

A middle aged woman approached them. Her eyes had a unique golden lining around their rims, and her head was enveloped in a shawl that draped down her shoulders to about halfway to her waist. She spoke in a thick middle-eastern accent, but yet she was thankfully still understandable.

"Jacob and Eleanor?" She asked. Jacob, Eleanor's husband, nodded a yes. "Come with me then, Amaziah is ready to go."

The couple followed the woman up a flight of creaky stairs and turned down a short hallway lined with several doors. Jacob sighed deeply. His heart thudded and his adrenaline was on the rise. Although he knew that he and Eleanor had prepared for this day for months and months, he still wasn't sure if he was ready for this, or if he would pass any of the tests that would lay in the years ahead.

The woman opened the door to the last room at the end of the hall, and Jacob and Eleanor entered, their hearts racing. "Eleanor, Jacob, this is Amaziah," the woman declared with a slight grin awaking on her face. Eleanor and Jacob found themselves gazing into the huge, glittering, deep, dark eyes of a baby boy. Only sixteen months old, he still had a bit of baby fat in his cheeks. His hair was a mop of dark, bouncing curls that went along quite well with his deep-brown eyes and his olive-colored skin. Above all else though, they complemented the smile that was growing ever wider on his face as his eyes darted from Eleanor to Jacob. Perhaps at the time there was a tiny whisper inside of my head that told me exactly what was about to happen.

The boy lay nestled under a thin, ratty, beige, blanket. He resided in a creaky, wooden, rocking cradle. The most intriguing item of the little positions he owned though, Eleanor thought, was the little stuffed animal that lay by his head. It took a moment for Eleanor to realize that it was a tiny, white, horse. She bent over a little bit to get a closer look. It appeared to be handcrafted. It's body was sewn together from some sort of dingy cloth. It's eyes were buttons, and it's mane and tail miniscule, thin strips of leather. It appeared battered and worn.

"You looking at something?" The woman asked curiously.

"Yes actually," replied Eleanor. "The, the horse?"

"Oh! Oh yes! That was a gift from his mother!" The woman replied.

"Really!" Eleanor's eyes widened.

"Yes, it is the only item his mother left with him, only the horse."

"Oh!" Eleanor answered, slightly surprised.

Eleanor and Jacob visited with Amaziah for a while. They came to the conclusion that they would keep his name Amaziah, and he would be called Ziah. They held him and attempted to get to know him a little bit more. They enjoyed his smile and and drank in his laughter. Even in the few tears the boy shed that day, they tried their hardest to intake it with all their hearts, knowing that there would never be a moment in their lives as beautiful and emotional as this one. Although they were both feeling anxious and unexplainably afraid, there was a great impenetrable joy that came into their hearts when their eyes met mine.

Jacob gazed into the window's of the young boy's soul. Never once in his life had he met the gaze of a human with so much fire behind his eyes. A fire that was unexplainable, an element that, when he laid eyes on it, made him feel overwhelmingly free.

Free. More than anything that is what I wanted to be.

When finally it was time to head back out into the streets of Turkey, Eleanor lifted Amaziah up and held him close to her heart. As she stroked his bouncing curls, she felt the strongest emotion she had ever felt in her entire life. There was a fear, a fear that the child would be too much for her and Jacob to take care of, and that she would not be the mother she felt the good Lord called her to be. Above all though, there was an overpowering sense of love. She felt beyond blessed to officially be able to call Amaziah her very own, and she would do everything in her power to raise him up as everything he was created to be.

The woman returned to the room and made sure everything was set. Just as Eleanor was exiting the room, Amaziah began to cry. He reached out his hands back toward his bed. Eleanor turned her head back in alarm and saw what the fuss was. Amaziah had forgotten his horse. She nearly leapt back to the crib. Eleanor knew that she could not let Amaziah leave the orphanage without something to remember his birth mother by when he was old enough to begin to wonder about where he came from. Although the boy was only looking at the ragged old pony as his beloved favorite toy now, she was beyond grateful for his longing to keep it by his side.

Eleanor took the little white horse in her free hand and trusted that it would be safe in Amaziah grasp. There was something special about that horse that she, nor her thoughts or words could explain. Then at last she spotted it. At the bottom of the horse's plushy hoof, there was the stitching of a signature. It was a signature that was so tiny and so hard to read that it would take someone with sharper eyes than she to make it out. However, deep down Eleanor knew that the stitching could belong to nobody other than Amaziah true mother.

Jacob was growing anxious. "We better be on our way soon Ellie."

"You are most definitely right, we have a flight to catch tonight and much prep to do before."

Both Eleanor and Jacob thanked the woman personally and with worried but overwhelmingly glowing hearts.

"We couldn't offer you deeper thanks," Eleanor said in a grateful tone, her voice slightly choked with tears.

The lady smiled back and didn't say a word. Her golden eyes began to well up with water, and she put her hands over her face, shaking her head.

"I'm so sorry!" She choked.

"I wish Amaziah all love and goodness in the states," she heaved. "I'm so, so sorry about me."

"It's quite alright, I completely understand your attachment to Amaziah after caring for him nearly his whole life. If you need a moment with him, you can most certainly take him.

"No," she whispered. "Go, take Amaziah home."

And it was on this day when my journey began. My heart was young and innocent. My white horse was by my side. The world was all so new, and I was born free, pure, and ready to ride along on this great adventure.