"Alice Hoffman - Green Angel" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hoffman Alice)

Green Angel
Heart
I once believed that life was a gift. I thought whatever I wanted I would someday possess. Is that greed, or
only youth? Is it hope or stupidity? As far as I was concerned the future was a book I could write to suit
myself, chapter after chapter of good fortune. All was right with the world, and my place in it was assured,
or so I thought then. I had no idea that all stories unfold like white flowers, petal by petal, each in its own
time and season,
This is how it happened
dependent on circumstance and fate. The future is something no one can foretell.
My family had always lived on the ndgetop above the village in a county where days were sunny and
warm. At twilight, dusk wove across the meadows like a dream of the next day to come. People said we
were blessed, and maybe that was true. My father was honest and strong. My mother collected blue jay
feathers, preferring them to her pearls. My little sister, Aurora, was as wild as she was beautiful. Aurora
could climb a tree in the blink of an eye. She could disappear into the woods like moonlight. She could
dance for hours and never tire.
I was the least among them, nothing special, just a girl. I was a moody, dark weed; still, they called me
Green because of my talents in the garden. My mother was the one who taught me everything I knew тАФ
to bury old boots beneath peach trees to ensure they'll bear the sweetest fruit, to douse roses with
vinegar-water to chase away beetles, to plant when the moon wanes and harvest when it is on the rise.
My sister, Aurora, could never sit still and pay attention. She chased after frogs, she trailed her prettiest
dresses through the mud, she stole apples from our neighbor's orchard, she laughed so hard whenever
her snappy little terrier, Onion, danced on his hind legs, we thought she'd never come to her senses.
Aurora didn't listen to a word my mother said. We all knew she couldn't stay in one place any longer than
moonlight could. Every time she ran through the garden the warblers and sparrows would follow her. Bees
would drink the sweat from her skin and never once sting. My mother laughed and said the honey in our
hives would taste especially wild and sweet.
At night, Aurora and I shared a room. Aurora slept without blankets or pillows, her pale hair streaming.
Once or twice I had awoken to spy her curled up on the floor with her little dog. As she dreamed, white
moths hovered above her, more drawn to her than they were to the moon or to the lantern my father kept
on the porch, a beacon that
signaled to anyone who might lose his way in the woods.
Aurora was made out of laughter and moonlight, but I was nothing like that. Unlike my fearless sister, I
was afraid of blackbirds and thunder. I couldn't get a good night's sleep unless I had three feather pillows
under my head and two down quilts covering me. But I was the one who could sit in the garden for hours,
unmoving, as I watched seedlings unfold. I was Green, with my long, dark hair and my endless patience.
A weed who grew too tall. I was Green, who never smiled at anyone, who preferred roses and asparagus
to people. I was shy and ill at ease, uncomfortable with girls my own age, unwilling to talk to the boys at
school. I wasn't good company, that was true, and people avoided me, but that was all right. I was too
busy dreaming.
My head was in the clouds even on the days we went into town. I didn't notice when people said hello to
me. I was too busy thinking about the future to come. When my mother sent us to do
her shopping, I was too timid to enter the market and sent my sister in my place.
Aurora laughed at how fainthearted I was.
They won't bite you, she said.
All the same, I kept my distance. I didn't mind if the storekeepers favored my sister. They gave her
sweets, mints and sugared almonds, which she would share evenly, fifty-fifty. Aurora always remembered
me. I was a reflection of what she was, a dark pond to mirror her moonlight. I hugged her, grateful that she
didn't notice I was less than she was. I ran home with her through the woods even though she was faster
and more graceful than I would ever be. I didn't care who preferred my good-natured sister. I was Green,
who was more comfortable in shadows. Green, who faded in the light of my sister. How could I not defer