We wrap our prayers in red string.
What is it, I wonder, about red? Red flags on the branches of trees, red thread around wishing wrists, red petals on dark earth. The red string of fate around a pinkie finger; a red ribbon in a little girl’s hair.
Will my prayer go farther wrapped in red? Will the wind catch it more forcefully, carry it more faithfully? If I had no need of prayers my father could answer my questions, but I suppose when it was possible, when I was young and carefree, I didn’t think to ask questions such as these. I wondered about the blueness of the sky, asked why the elephants’ tusks were so long and their feet so slow; I didn’t question how loud a whisper needs to be before it’s heard, or why darkness is so full of shadows. I didn’t understand how little I knew until I asked ‘why’ and no one answered.
I wrap my prayer in red string, and leave it for the wind.
Image courtesy of Hayley Mechelle Bouchard. Her work can be found at Little Cat Photography, with more information about Hayley on Our Contributors page.