A TALE OF FREEDOM

Every summer, I am Rapunzel.
I sat on my own little corner, up, up and away in the tower, watching the world go by.

Friends in the north are going away watching meadows, valleys, mountains.

Friends in the west go burn themselves on the beach three weeks long and lashed out their vengeance by burning sausages and burgers on the charcoal and grill, barbecue party.

Friends in the south goes north.

I sat on my own little corner, up, up and away in the tower, watching the world go by.

Some little birds dropped by my window, telling stories of flying swans. The other chirps happily at the fruits and flavors that comes every summer. A caterpillar, down below, sigh and moved on in silence. It dreamed so much to see the sky, and wonder how the world would look like from above, but all, just like me, a forlorn wish that would never becoming.

But if I cannot go and see the world, what would I do? Tears will not fly me away, and wishes stay in the dream.

I can reach out to the sky and complained.

But I can also reach out beyond the ocean and bring the world to me.

I can go out of the house every day, sixteen to twenty two hours a day to toil on my job and dribbled in my sweat working, and produce as much as I can possibly earn stretching myself thin.
Still when I go home the joy of telling everyone, “Look, I brought food to fill your table!”

As gratitude for all my hard work, all of those eyes, glistening as they watch me ever so intently, in a row of lines in the still dark living room, those cats, kittens, senior, the sick, the weak and the hungry, come running toward me with love that they would probably never shown anyone before.

But most of them, if not all, have only at most ten years to live. Some even just ten days.

And in such short span of their lives, they spend it alone, waiting for me to go home.

As gratitude for such a waste of life, all of my heart, I wanted to give them better. Not just spending my few and far between off days sewing toys that would delight them for what seems to be forever, but to make the chance for myself, and therefore for them, to live where we can spend our time with each other and still, produce enough to fill their table.

What I had two years ago next October, was USD 50; and the bittersweet memory of a pair of kittens named Milk and Berry, whom I took away after crawling on my tummy like a snake slithering through three meters long drain pipe under the cluster where our home rested. Milk and Berry were sick, but in the short holiday that I took in those rainy, gloomy days, they are the sun and the moon of my life.

They were sick when I received an urgent call and have to leave home, and came back to find they were gone.

So born the online shop that, with the blessings and luck sent by the two kittens, then angels, has been growing bigger and stronger that it is now the wind beneath our wings on those summer days, when I am Rapunzel, sitting on my own little corner, up, up and away in the tower, watching the world go by.

The shop has grown bigger and stronger that when everyone desert us for all the enjoyment and indulgence they rightfully deserve, there are still food to fill the table.

Through the thick and thin, the risks of business,the one and biggest boulder to go through so far was the new policy enacted by the government to clean up corrupt witches and officials. It was the strap and noose set and fastened to kill quick and merciless.

But like antibiotics kill the bad germ and the good ones, so is the policy.

Others went the other direction, and for a while, the field is empty, but I stand on.

I stand on because in the short span that they have, the cats shouldn’t have spend it alone, waiting for me to go home.

I stand on because in the short span that they have, we can be together.

And those who knocks, the door is opened.

But then, I am in the crossroad.

I can step aside for a while and finish all the pending work so that my shop can go back running and refill our depleted savings or I can stay on facebook, unfairly calling people who went everywhere and complained about how they left us buried in the sand.

I can only choose one.

So I asked friends if they would be kind to fill me in while I set my shop back on, and those who stays long enough to walk their talk have tried their best.

Still the fact remains: by the weekend, our fund raising, that should be our prime income, produced only half it should be.

But doesn’t it take just a single prince to save Rapunzel?

It is not the prince who saved Rapunzel. It’s her hair. It’s those fine, brittle, strain of hairs, by the tens and hundreds and thousands that brings the prince to save her.

That is why they said it took a village.

It is indeed, because I only have two hands and I can only do that much.

It took a village, but only if the village come together, by the tens and hundreds and thousands.

Otherwise, it’s nothing.

So I am calling. To those who have yet heard our voice, and to those who have yet find their way to us. I am calling to the remaining half of the village.

And I hope they would come.

~ Josie

paypal.me/whiskerssyndicate

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