• I looked down at the small child whose hand I was holding. Her tiny brown pigtails bobbed up and down as she tried to keep up with my pace. A joyous smile was plastered on her face as the snowflakes fell onto her purple-gloved hands and her face. The frigid winter air blew, and her face scrunched up as she tried to block the cold wind with her hands.

    “I told you to zipper that coat all the way up,” I lectured her, crouching beside her to do what she hadn’t. “There, see? You’re warmer now,” She nodded and grabbed my hand again. She began to skip down the icy sidewalk, towing me behind her.

    “N-now, be careful,” I warned her. “The sidewalks are icy,” She turned around, and wistful look in her eyes. I took one look at those eyes and melted. “Just don’t slip. If you do, I warned you,”

    She let go of my hand and slid down the stoned walkway, leaving me to watch her from a distance. I shouldn’t’ve done that. Just because she had a speaking disability didn’t mean I had to give her anything she wanted, but whenever she put those eyes on, I couldn’t help but give her what she wanted.

    I knew she would never be able to express herself as well as the other little girls in speech, but when it came to drawing, she was amazing. What she lacked in her capability to speak, she quickly made it up in artsy things. I knew she had potential to do well. We shared a special bond I know not many people ever felt. The bond a mute person had with her mother. But I wasn’t her parent.

    Both of her parents had given her up for adoption because they thought themselves too good for a daughter who couldn’t talk at all. They were too stuck up and snobby to see that their girl had potential to lead a very fulfilling and prosperous life. But I saw it in her. The moment I laid eyes on her I knew she was the one I would take home. I knew she was a good-hearted girl who just wanted to be loved for who she was.

    Of coarse I had to learn sign language, but it was a small price to pay for the love she gave. She was one of the best little girls I had ever known. One of the most responsible, caring, and loving girls ever. I was glad she was the one I had chosen. If I hadn’t, I knew my life wouldn’t ever be the same.

    And then suddenly I couldn’t see her anymore. My heart skipped a beat as I stared at the place where she was. No… It couldn’t be. My baby couldn’t be gone. She couldn’t be lost! “Tara!” I yelled, knowing she wouldn’t be able to respond.

    “TARA!” No! NO! I fell onto the ground, tears pouring down my face. She couldn’t be lost! She just couldn’t! I had always told myself to be a responsible guardian, to take care of her always, no matter what type of trouble she was in. And now I lost her…

    I saw faces looking down at me, their expressions scornful, and even indifferent. Why didn’t they care? Didn’t they understand the pain a mother felt when her child went missing? I guess they wouldn’t understand. I guess they wouldn’t care.

    I stood up and frantically ran around, feeling the cold wind start up again, chilling me to the bone. Where could that girl have gone? She could’ve hurt herself, but she couldn’t cry out for help. She could’ve been kidnapped, but she couldn’t scream and shout. All she could do was wave her arms around, hoping someone would find her. The thoughts that ran through my head made the pain even harder to bear.

    “Tara!” I shouted once again. “Where are you?” The tears came down harder as the snow began to fall in heavier amounts. She would need me soon. She would be cold. I heard some laughing in the distance and turned around. A man was playing in the snow with a small redheaded girl. Her laugh sounded like the morning bells, and it made me feel sorry. Tara never had the chance to laugh like that. She never would.

    I turned around again and saw the little girl that was mine. “Tara!” I ran over to her and embraced her small body. When I was done with the hug, I pulled away and held her in front of me.

    “You can’t do that,” I said, my voice stern. “You know how I hate it when you run away like that. It’s not only dangerous, it worries me,”

    'I just wanted to play in the snow. See?' She motioned to a snow angel imprinted in the white fluff.

    “Tara, I don’t care if you just wanted to play in the snow. You have to ask me first. Do you understand?”

    'Yes. I understand.' She signed, her face showing discontent. I know she didn’t like my rules, but if she really had gotten into trouble, she wouldn’t’ve been able to call for help.

    “Good. We’re going home now,” I grabbed her hand, despite her struggling.

    'But I want to play in the snow!' She signed frantically. I don’t want to go home!

    “Too bad,” I tugged on her hand gently, but when she wouldn’t budge, I picked her up. “You just demonstrated that I can’t leave you alone without the fear that you’ll run away,” She struggled in my arms, trying to get down. She really wanted to play in the snow.

    'Please, just a few more minutes?' She asked, hoping she’d get her way. She even turned her eyes to the puppy dog eyes. But I didn’t fall for it.

    “No, we can come back tomorrow,” I responded, my eyes firm.

    She lay limp in my arms after my somewhat harsh reply. Why didn’t she understand how important her safety was to me? When I looked at her, she was signing something.

    'But…this isn’t fair! Why do you deny me just a few more minutes?'

    “Tara, I do what I must,” I sighed, holding her close to me. “To keep you safe. And it’s getting dark, anyway, so I don’t want you to be out here in the dark, too,”

    She didn’t respond. I didn’t know what was wrong with her. I could never really tell how she felt by the way she spoke because she couldn’t speak at all. I could only read her face, and it was sad. “I’m sorry,” I told her, “I really am, but I just don’t like it when you run out of my view. So this is what I must do. You can go out tomorrow, okay?”

    'Okay,' She signed, her fingers lethargic and slow. 'Tomorrow.'

    I carried her home, my arms wrapped tightly around her small body, as if I was trying to keep her as close to me as possible. When I locked the door of our apartment, Tara’s eyes were struggling to stay open. I lay her on the couch and covered her with a light blue blanket.

    “I’ll get you something to eat before you go to sleep. Okay?”

    She nodded, and curled up into a tight ball under the blanket. A purring white kitten poked his nose under the blanket and I saw Tara’s tiny hand reach out from under it to stroke the silky head. The cat and the girl had always had a special bond. No words were ever spoken between them, not even a mew, but that’s what made their relationship so sacred.

    I walked into the kitchen and pulled out a pot. I poured water from the sink faucet into it and turned the heat on. The water would be boiling soon, but as I waited it, I went back to Tara. I sat next to her, or more like I sat next to the blue lump on the couch.

    I uncovered her head, and saw two pairs of grey eyes look up at me. The cat had snuck under the blanket with Tara and she was smiling.

    'Jamie is so purry!' She signed as the cat had another spasm of purrs.

    I laughed, and pet Jamie on his head, making his purrs even louder than before. I stood up from the couch and checked on the water in the pot. It was boiling, as I suspected it would, so I poured some pasta in it and set the timer on the oven.

    I removed two plates from the cabinet and two forks from the silverware drawer. I took two cups from the dishwasher, and poured some milk into them, one cup, halfway, the other, all the way full. Just as I finished, the timer beeped and I turned the heat off. I strained the pasta, and spooned some onto both plates. I carried the plates into the other room and placed them on the table, and then I did the same with the cups.

    “Come to the table to eat, Tara,” I told her, as I sat down. She crawled out from underneath the blanket and joined me.

    We ate in silence, and when we were done I cleaned up, taking the plates, cups, and forks into the kitchen and placing them into the sink.

    I picked Tara up from her chair and slowly walked into her room. I tucked her in, and as I left, she quickly signed something.

    'Tell me a story!'

    I couldn’t argue. It was a tradition for us to read a story before she went to bed, and that was a tradition I did not want to break. I picked up a thin book from the pile of stories on the floor and sat down on the foot of her bed. I opened the book and began…

    “Once upon a time…”

    And before I could say ‘The end’ she was asleep. I closed the book, turned out the light, but before I left the room, I took one last look at Tara’s face. When she was sleeping, her face was calm, and you couldn’t even tell that she was a mute. I walked over to her side, and kissed her forehead.

    “Goodnight my angel,” I whispered as I left the room.