picture sorce: https://pixabay.com/photos/cinnamon-aroma-spices-condiments-1971496/
The herbalists crowded around newborn Ria. She lay silent, her eyes closed and her mouth still. Ria’s Mom, Mongolia, would’ve thought Ria was dead if not for her quiet, shallow breaths.
“Moni, you’re doing that thing with your hands again.” said Rio.
Mongolia looked down to see that she was indeed rubbing her hands against themselves and turning them over, as if she was washing her hands. What a terrible, unsophisticated habit.
“Right,” Mongolia dropped her hands to her sides. “I’m just worried about Ria. What if she breathes in the seasonings?”
“Then she’ll sneeze them back out,” Rio told his wife.
“What if they mess up and give her the wrong spices?”
“They are the magic herbalists you picked out yourself, Moni. I’m sure you picked the right people.”
“Yes, but still, this is our newborn baby. You can never be too cautious.” Mongolia said, but she did not continue. She’d rather watch every movement of the magic Herbalists at work.
A brown sheet was spread out inside a picnic basket, the edges leaking out around the edges of the basket so the young baby did not get scratched when she was put inside it. Ria was placed on a folded pink cotton blanket on top of the robe inside the basket.
“What constellations are out tonight?” asked one Herbalist to another.
“I don’t know, but we should let the moon in regardless. Someone, open the doors!”
The light was turned off and the two front doors were slid aside to reveal the brightly lit sky, full of stars and planets millions of lightyears away.
“Aw, a waxing gibbous! Why couldn’t it have been a full moon? Would be just right for the new creator.” One short plump herbalist looked out angrily at the nearly full moon, as if she could shame it into being a perfect glowing circle.
“Well, it can’t be helped. All we can do is give Ria the best seasonings we can for her unpredictable future.”
All herbalists sat around the baby, looked at her, really looked at her, and began to speak.
Ethiopia, the most experienced (and tallest) herbalist of the bunch, examined Ria for a while. Her fat baby cheeks, her peanut-colored skin, the peak of dark brown and orange curls from the top of her head. How calm she was right now. How calm she would be in the future.
“I say we sprinkle her with the scrapings of vanilla bean, so she will have a sense of calmness all her life.”
“Good thinking, Ethiopia,” Said the short plump herbalist, and she began to grab her own trusty herbalist bag, and took out a long, stringy brown bean.
It was split open, and the dark, brown powder from the bean was sprinkled at the top of Ria's still face. Now it looked like she had dark brown freckles on her forehead.
“Maybe we should give her mint too, for lots of energy, and a healthy complexion.” the plump herbalist thought aloud.
“Right,” Ethiopia agreed, and mint leaf powder was sprinkled on the baby’s left cheek, with a mint leaf on her head for good measure.
“Lastly, Cinnamon, so she’ll be smart and sweet,” said another herbalist.
“Good thinking!” the plumb herbalist agreed, and a cinnamon stick was placed right inside the baby’s wrap, and some sprinkled on her right cheek.
Now the herbalist stood up and backed up, letting the baby and her seasonings shine in the moonlight.
“This should be good for her magic and her personality in the future,” Ethiopia explained. “A calm, smart, vigorous girl.”
Rio was quite happy about his daughter’s future fortune, but Mongolia was quite worried. The moon wasn’t even full, so would the baby’s magic reach its full potential?”
“It looks like you put a little less cinnamon than mint on my baby’s cheek.” was the first thing Mongolia said.
“Well, nothings going to be perfect,” Rio told Mongolia yet again.
“Plus, a little cinnamon goes a long way,” Ethiopia added.
Mongolia went to knell by her child’s side.
It was true, a little cinnamon did go a long way. For both good and evil.
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