You did not know her.
She wore a yellow dress and ran in the fields near her home. The fragrant air kissed her cheek and the breeze blew her skirt until it tangled in her legs and she fell to the ground, laughing. The breeze became stronger and its music rang in her ears and warned her to get home before the scent of the air changed to earth and rain and storm. She rolled in the tall grass and ignored the call of the wind to go home, though its whisper was urgent. Ahh, but she was strong and found comfort in the tall grass and the sound of the leaves rustling as the branches swayed to the strains of the wind. She arrived home wet as the clothes that still hung on the line, for her parents had not a chance to remove them before the deluge came. They laughed along with her, for they had long since known this daughter was a warrior, a gentle warrior who dared nature to defy her passions.
You did not know her years later as she cuddled her babies and softly cried blessings into their thick black hair, a genetic gift from their father. She had wanted three little ones running in her home but was widowed when the second was still a toddler. Somehow, she managed to successfully raise them while being an attorney for those with little money to spend and much else to lose. Her children mirrored her resiliency and loved her dearly, always inspiring her to follow her passions—her job, her art, her joy of dancing in the rain. This gentle warrior, enveloped in grief as she lost her parents within months of each other, found deep within her the spirit of the Apache warrior, Lozen, and carried on. Her soul, stricken with anguish, never lost its vibrancy as she aged into a much-admired matriarch.
You did not know her, yet you stole her from this planet, where you wreaked havoc and fear. She, however, slipped quietly into the unknown with her passions intact, her wisdom leading her to a plane of serenity and peace.
You did not know her. This. Gentle. Warrior.
Rosaria Caporrimo is an actor in New York.