A Way With Words

I was the middle one, the one mother called different and father called remarkable, the one with the carroty hair and the freckles, whole constellations of them. My brothers had once traced Orion, the Dipper, and Ursa Major on my cheeks and forehead with charcoal, connecting the bright red specks, and I hadn’t minded. I’d been their whole sky for hours.
Sue Monk Kidd
The Invention of Wings.

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