What does the mother imply about curiosity?

It is a valuable trait to have.

It is not necessary for growth.

What is one of the main characteristics of the narrator's mother?

She thinks deeply and asks a lot of questions about life.

She prefers to keep her thoughts to herself.

She enjoys painting and drawing.

What does the mother mean by saying 'Never stop thinking'?

She values continuous thinking as a way to learn and grow.

Only philosophers need to think.

What does the narrator aspire to do one day?

Become a philosopher like their mother.

Son of a philosopher

Solomon was the son of David. His mother’s name was Bathsheba. He became king after King David. He was the third king of Unified Israel. When he became king, he prayed to God for wisdom to rule the people of Israel. God responded to Solomon’s prayer for wisdom by granting Solomon wisdom, riches, and honour, as a result, he became a great leader and was the wisest man who ever lived. Knowledge consists of facts or ideas acquired by study, observation, or experience. Wisdom refers to the ability to make good decisions based on knowledge. James 1:5-6 states that anyone who lacks wisdom should ask God for it because He gives generously to all who ask in faith. Godly wisdom is more valuable than earthly riches and treasures. Solomon wrote proverbs so that people could learn godly wisdom, discipline, and discernment. Simply knowing the difference between right and wrong is not enough. A person must also listen to God, act on knowledge and godly wisdom, and choose to obey God. Psalm 111:10 teaches that fearing the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. Wisdom becomes part of a believer's life once he or she learns to fear and revere the Lord. Applying God's Word to everyday life is the foundation for wise living. Solomon wrote 3,000 proverbs and composed 1,005 songs; he was a scientist with great knowledge of many plants and animals.

Please generate questions: 1 The proverbs of Solomon the son of David, king of Israel; 2 To know wisdom and instruction; to perceive the words of understanding; 3 To receive the instruction of wisdom, justice, and judgment, and equity; 4 To give subtilty to the simple, to the young man knowledge and discretion. 5 A wise man will hear, and will increase learning; and a man of understanding shall attain unto wise counsels: 6 To understand a proverb, and the interpretation; the words of the wise, and their dark sayings. 7 The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge: but fools despise wisdom and instruction. 8 My son, hear the instruction of thy father, and forsake not the law of thy mother: 9 For they shall be an ornament of grace unto thy head, and chains about thy neck. 10 My son, if sinners entice thee, consent thou not.

The story of The Resurrection of Jesus is very amazing. Resurrection: meaning Jesus rising from the dead. Jesus is alive again. Jesus proved to the people that He is the “Son of God”. Would you like to know the amazing story? Let’s read on! Jesus is Alive! After Jesus died a man named Joseph from Arimathea put Jesus in His tomb. Before Joseph left, he and some men rolled a large heavy stone in front of the tomb. Mary and Mary Magdalene made spices and oils as a sign of respect to Jesus, and went very early to the tomb on the third day to go see Jesus' body. As they were just about at the tomb the earth suddenly shook and an angel came down from heaven. He easily rolled away the stone at the entrance of the tomb and sat on top of it. The women looked at each other and rubbed their eyes, they couldn't believe what they had seen. The angel was so bright, almost as bright as lightning. His clothes were as white as snow. There had been guards watching the tomb so no one would steal Jesus' body. When they saw the angel they fell over and they couldn't move or speak because they were so afraid. Christian Living Education 2 SEIBO COLLEGE 5 Then the angel said to the women, "Do not be afraid. I know you are looking for Jesus who has died. But He isn't here; He has risen just as He said He would! Come and see for yourself, the tomb is empty." The women were confused. How could this happen? They were sure Jesus had died, and now He was alive? They looked in the tomb and the cloths Jesus was wrapped in were lying on the ground, and the tomb was empty. Then the angel spoke again, "If you want to find Jesus He's on his way to Galilee." So the women hurried away. They had been so sad that Jesus was dead and now they were so excited He was alive! They just knew they had to find Jesus, and they had to tell the disciples the good news. As they were running down the path they turned a corner, and there was Jesus. "Greetings," He said. The ladies fell at His feet and worshiped him. Then Jesus said to them, "Do not be afraid. Go and tell my disciples to come to Galilee, which is where they will see me." The disciples came to Galilee, and had heard by this time that Jesus was alive. They were sitting around talking about it, when Jesus walked into the room and said to them, "Peace be with you." The disciples immediately stopped talking. Even though they had heard Christian Living Education 2 SEIBO COLLEGE 6 He was alive, they were shocked to see Him standing there with them. Jesus said to them, "Why do you look at me like you've just seen a ghost? Why don't you believe what you're seeing? Look at the scars in my hands and feet. It is really me! Touch me and see, I am not a ghost but a real person." The disciples’ mouths were open in amazement because they still didn't know what to think. They were so full of joy, and yet it was so impossible. Jesus understood what they were thinking, so He said, "This is what I told you would happen, that everything must happen that has already been written in the Bible." Then Jesus told them, "You have seen these things that have happened, so stay in the city and soon I am going to give you what God has promised you, the Holy Spirit. Jesus had one more person to see. His name was Thomas, and he was one of the disciples that weren’t there when Jesus met with them. Thomas had also heard that Jesus was alive, but would not believe until he saw Jesus with his own eyes. A week later when Thomas finally saw Jesus, Jesus said to him, "Put your finger here; see my hands. Stop doubting and believe." But Jesus continued, "Because you have seen me, you have believed; but it is more amazing for those who don't see me, and believe anyway." Christian Living Education 2 SEIBO COLLEGE 7 Jesus is actually talking to us when He said this. If you believe in Him, without seeing Him He thinks you're very special! That is exactly what faith is, believing in God even though you can't see Him. When we become Christians Jesus automatically gives us the Holy Spirit to live inside of us. The Holy Spirit makes us know when we have done something wrong. We might feel sick to our stomach, or just get a bad feeling, that is the Holy Spirit reminding us that we are doing something wrong, or that we need to stop and say sorry and ask for forgiveness for what we've done. Do you know what we celebrate during Easter Sunday? We celebrate the rising of Jesus from the dead. We celebrate because Jesus shared His new life with us. Through His rising from the dead, we are saved. We also have new life. What do you think we should do with our new life? How can we thank Jesus for sharing His new life with us? Of course, we should do good deeds. When we say good deeds, it is anything that we do that is good. It doesn’t matter how big or small as long as it is good. It would make Jesus very happy if we stop our bad ways and change for the better

Smallpox epidemics had struck the tribes of the Upper Missouri at least twice before the terrible epidemic of 1837. The earlier epidemics of 1781 and 1801 took the lives of thousands of Mandans, Hidatsas, and Arikaras and forced them to move north to re-build their villages near the mouth of the Knife River. However, not long after the earthlodge villages became established on the Knife, they experienced the worst smallpox epidemic ever. Fort Clark was a fur-trading post that had been built in 1823 just a few miles south of the mouth of the Knife River on the west bank of the Missouri River. One-quarter mile from the fort was the Mandan village of Mitu'tahakto's (meh TOOT ah hahnk tosh). Within 15 miles of the post were several more Mandan, Arikara, and Hidatsa villages. Earlier epidemics and inter-tribal conflict had forced the earthlodge peoples north to the Knife River. The Yanktonais, Crows, Assiniboines and other tribes traveled to Fort Clark bringing buffalo robes and furs to trade for tobacco, guns, cloth, and other goods. Fort Clark was a busy, densely populated center of international trade. On June 18, 1837, the steamboat St. Peters approached Fort Clark. In addition to supplies, the St. Peters brought Andrew Jackson Chardon, the two-year-old son of Fort Clark’s superintendent, Francis Chardon. Chardon met the boat some 30 miles downstream. He removed his son from the boat and heard the news that people on the boat were infected with smallpox. When the steamboat landed at Fort Clark, people came and went from the boat to the fort and the villages. Workers from the boat and the post unloaded goods and loaded bales of furs. All of the activity took place in less than 24 hours amid a “frolick” of singing and dancing and celebration. Once loaded, the St. Peters headed upstream to Fort Union carrying the deadly virus. On July 14, 1837, Chardon noted in his journal that a Mandan man had died of smallpox in the village. (See Document 2.) Chardon knew that smallpox would become an epidemic and that many more would die, but the extent of the epidemic stunned him. He recorded the deaths of important village leaders including the highly-respected second chief of the Mandans, Four Bears. He heard, probably second-hand, the death-speech of Four Bears (See Document 2, entry for July 30.) and recorded it in his journal. Chardon was unable to keep track of the number of deaths: “they die so fast that it is impossible,” he wrote. Survivors swore revenge against Chardon for bringing death to their villages. There were murders and threats of murder as the deeply despairing Mandans tried to avenge the deaths of their families and friends. Some people, sick with smallpox or feeling desperate from the loss of every member of their family, committed suicide. Suicide was unknown among the Mandans and Hidatsas before the epidemic. Before the disease reached the post, Chardon sent his oldest son downriver to Fort Pierre. The boy was sent on to his grandparents’ home in Pennsylvania. The younger son, Andrew Jackson, remained with Chardon (the boy’s mother had died in April before the epidemic). When the disease finally penetrated the walls of the fort, Andrew Jackson sickened and died as did many other young children of the post employees. When the disease reached Fort Union, more people, both Indians and non-Indians, were exposed and suffered. The superintendent at Fort Union tried to inoculate as many people as he could. Many tribes fled the area and probably saved many lives in doing so. The disease however, continued to spread across the northern Great Plains where the Indians had been denied access to the 1832 federal vaccination program. The Mandan people suffered the greatest losses in the epidemic. Frequent, close contact among the people of the villages and the fur trade post helped to spread the disease quickly. About 2,000 Mandans lived in the Knife River villages in the spring of 1837. By October, 138 people remained alive. The survivors moved from the village at Fort Clark to other villages. The Arikaras, who had lost perhaps two-thirds of their population, moved into Mitu'tahakto's. They harvested the Mandans’ garden crops that year and remained in the village near Fort Clark.

Richard Bland College (RBC), Virginia’s selective, two-year, residential, liberal arts transfer institution, was born through innovation. In 1959, years before the Virginia Community College system was imagined, Frank Ernst – a Gateway region native, entrepreneur, and retired executive of Hopewell’s Allied Chemical Plant – proposed the creation of an institution grounded in the liberal arts tradition with opportunities for specialized training in in-demand fields such as engineering to the State Council of Higher Education. After discussions with Virginia Tech and the University of Virginia, Ernst found a willing partner in the College of William & Mary, the second-oldest university in the United States, who founded Richard Bland College in 1960. RBC has since offered multiple certificates and university-parallel two-year degrees. The College was named for the Virginia statesman and champion of public rights, Richard Bland. Son and grandson of successful planters, Richard Bland was educated at The College of William and Mary. From 1742 until his death in 1776, he represented the area in which the College is now located, first in the House of Burgesses, and later, with the adoption of a state constitution, in the House of Delegates. He also served as a delegate from Virginia in both the First and Second Continental Congresses. It seems fitting, therefore, that an institution of higher learning located in an area served for so many years by this distinguished Virginia patriot and scholar, should derive its name from one whom Jefferson described “as the most learned and logical man of those who took prominent lead in public affairs.” Before the Civil War, the property on which the College is now located was a plantation owned by the Gurley family. It became an important part of the Union-occupied territory during the 1864-1865 Siege of Petersburg. The present campus was the scene of two battles during that campaign. Shortly after the turn of the century, Hatcher Seward established a dairy and cattle farm on the former Gurley property and constructed two farmhouses. Today they serve as the President’s residence and the Hospitality House. In the early 1900s, the still-beautiful grove of pecan trees was planted. The farm was used as a work camp for about twenty conscientious objectors during World War I. The Commonwealth of Virginia authorized Central State Hospital to purchase the land in 1932 for use as the Petersburg Training School and Hospital for African-American Youth. That institution was moved in 1959, and the land, still owned by the Commonwealth, became the location for the establishment of Richard Bland College of The College of William and Mary. Under the guidance of Colonel (Ret.) James M. Carson, the former hospital and training facility was transformed into Richard Bland College, and classes were held beginning in 1961. In the late 1960s, Ernst Hall (named for a local business leader influential in the establishment of the college) was added to the original campus. In addition, a Student Center Library building and a gymnasium also were constructed in the early 1970s. Colonel Carson retired as the founding President of the College in 1973. From 1973 through 1975, Dr. Cornelius Laban, Professor of Biology, Emeritus, served as the Acting President of Richard Bland College. In 1975, Dr. Clarence Maze succeeded Colonel Carson as Richard Bland College’s second President. During his tenure, Richard Bland College expanded its academic programs, added an Asian water garden that was designed by Dr. Maze and expanded international programs and travel. In recognition of his service to the College, the renovated administration building was named Maze Hall upon his retirement in 1996. In 1996, Dr. James B. McNeer succeeded Dr. Clarence Maze as Richard Bland College’s third President. Dr. McNeer introduced a residential life program and oversaw the addition of the Residential Village in 2008. The Residential Village was comprised of two dormitories, Freedom Hall and Patriot Hall, which housed 250 students. A new Science and Technology Building was added in 2010, and in recognition of his service to the College, this building was named James B. McNeer Hall. Dr. McNeer retired in 2012. In 2012, Dr. Debbie L. Sydow succeeded Dr. James McNeer as Richard Bland College’s fourth president. Dr. Sydow expanded the reach, range and diversity of students attending Richard Bland College. She oversaw a physical campus transformation through extensive building renovation and new construction, creation of a Business Innovation Park, and conservation of the iconic pecan grove and water garden. President Sydow reinstituted intercollegiate athletics in 2013 and has since hailed three NJCAA national championship teams. She supported the Foundation’s emergence as a vibrant, entrepreneurial organization led by a Board of Directors composed largely of alumni, and she secured the largest private gift in College history to launch the W&M Promise Scholars program. By effectively leveraging partnerships, President Sydow boosted work-based learning and expanded academic and career pathways for students.

Oliver Twist begins in a workhouse in 1830s England, in an unnamed village, where a young woman, revealed to be Oliver's mother, gives birth to her son and promptly dies. The boy, lucky to survive, is raised until the age of nine in a "farm" for young orphaned children, and then is sent to the local workhouse again, where he labors for a time, until his innocent request for more food so angers the house's board and beadle, Mr. Bumble, that the workhouse attempts to foist Oliver off as an apprentice to some worker in the villager. Oliver is eventually given over to a coffin-maker named Sowerberry. Oliver works as a "mute" mourner for Sowerberry, and must sleep at night among the coffins. After a fight with Noah, another of Sowerberry's apprentices, over Oliver's unwed mother (whom Noah insults), Oliver runs away to London, to make his fortune. Near London, Oliver meets a well-dressed young boy who introduces himself as the Artful Dodger, a thief under the employ of a local crime boss named Fagin. The Dodger takes Oliver to Fagin, who promises to help Oliver but really holds him hostage, and forces him to go on a thieving mission with the Dodger and Bates, another young criminal. Bates and Dodger try to steal the handkerchief of an old man, who notices Oliver (an innocent onlooker), and believes him to be the thief. Oliver is caught and hauled to jail, only to be released into the old man Brownlow's company after Brownlow sees that Oliver had nothing to do with the crime. Brownlow nurses Oliver for a time and vows to educate him properly. But after sending Oliver out to return some books and money to a bookseller, Brownlow is shocked to find that Oliver does not return—Oliver has been picked up by Nancy, an associate of Fagin's, and taken back to the criminal gang.

Gr''ade 3 Questions based on this chapter: English Alexander was a king of the ancient Greek kingdom of Macedonia. By the age of thirty, he had created one of the largest empires in the world, stretching from Greece to northwestern India. When Alexander was young, a trader brought a horse which was difficult to mount. Let us read about how Alexander tames the horse. One day King Philip bought a fine horse. He was a strong animal and the king paid a high price for him. But he was wild and no man could mount him, or do anything at all with him. This horse is really wild. It cannot be tamed by the royal men. Many have tried and failed. We tried everything possible, your Majesty. We tried to whip him but that only made him worse. Glossary wild rough/harsh mount a horse to climb onto the back of a horse to tame to control whip to beat using a long rope King Philip asked his men to take the horse away. It is a pity to send such a fine horse away. I think the men do not know how to tame him. I can try taming this beautiful horse. Perhaps you can do better than them. But be careful, my son. You are still very young to mount this violent animal. Alexander wanted to (mount/feed/tame/ ride) the horse. If you would give me the order, I will try. I am sure I can manage this horse better than anyone else. Antonym(s) worse x better young x old fail x succeed If I fail, I will pay you the price of the horse, Father. The courtiers told Alexander that it might be dangerous for a young boy to try taming the wild horse. They laughed at him. Alexander went near the horse and turned his head towards the sun. He had noticed that the horse was afraid of his own shadow. I will name you Bucephalus. Stay calm and I will do no harm. The horse was afraid of his own (body/courtiers/King Philip/shadow). English He then spoke gently to the horse. Bucephalus means 'ox-head'— head of an ox, in Ancient Greek. When he had quietened him a little, he made a quick spring and leapt upon the horse's back. I thought the little prince would be killed by this dangerous animal. What a miracle! The horse has recognized the young prince as his master. Alexander let the horse run. When Bucephalus had become tired of running, Alexander reined him in and rode back to the place where his father was standing. Glossary noticed (here) to see afraid scared/frightened calm quiet gently softly quietened to become calmer and less noisy a miracle a wonder/unusual event to rein to check or guide a horse Look at the young prince! He is mounted well! But the horse is still wild! Antonym(s); laughed x cried afraid x brave. English When he reached the place where his father was standing, he leapt to the ground. His father ran and kissed him. Dear Father! I shall add My son! Macedonia is a small kingdom more territories and bring for you. You must seek a larger kingdom glory to our kingdom. that will be worthy of you. Fascinating Fact(s) Alexandria Bucephalus was a city founded by Alexander in memory of his loyal horse Bucephalus. During Alexander's invasion of India, he had fought against the Indian King, Porus, near the river Hydaspes (modern day river Jhelum, Pakistan). His horse Bucephalus died there and he honoured his horse by naming the city after it. Antonym(s) worthy x unworthy proud x ashamed You have carried me across countries and stood bravely beside me as I fought to win the numerous fierce battles. You have saved my life many times. I am truly proud of you, Bucephalus. (Mesopotamia/Minneapolis/ Macedonia/Minnesota) was a small kingdom for Alexander to rule. Glossary numerous many fierce strong and violent Alexander and Bucephalus were said to be always together, for when one of them was seen, the other was sure to be not far away. Bucephalus would never allow anyone to mount him, but his master. Alexander became the most famous king and warrior, and for that reason, he is called 'Alexander the Great!.

She went by the name of Belisa Crepusculario, not because she had been baptized with that name or given it by her mother, but because she herself had searched until she found the poetry of "beauty" and "twilight" and cloaked herself in it. She made her living selling words. She journeyed through the country from the high cold mountains to the burning coasts, stopping at fairs and in markets where she set up four poles covered by a canvas awning under which she took refuge from the sun and rain to minister to her customers. She did not have to peddle her merchandise because from having wandered far and near, everyone knew who she was. Some people waited for her from one year to the next, and when she appeared in the village with her bundle beneath her arm, they would form a line in front of her stall. Her prices were fair. For five centavos she delivered verses from memory, for seven she improved the quality of dreams, for nine she wrote love letters, for twelve she invented insults for irreconcilable enemies. She also sold stories, not fantasies but long, true stories she recited at one telling, never skipping a word. This is how she carried news from one town to another. People paid her to add a line or two: our son was born, so-and-so died, our children got married, the crops burned in the field. Wherever she went a small crowd gathered around to listen as she began to speak, and that was how they learned about each others' doings, about distant relatives, about what was going on in the civil war. To anyone who paid her fifty centavos in trade, she gave the gift of a secret word to drive away melancholy. It was not the same word for everyone, naturally, because that would have been collective dece it. Each person received his or her own word, with the assurance that no one else would use it that way in this universe or the Beyond. Belisa Crepusculario had been born into a family so poor they did not even have names to give their children. She came into the world and grew up in an inhospitable land where some years the rains became avalanches of water that bore everything away before them and others when not a drop fell from the sky and the sun swelled to fill the horizon and the world became a desert. Until she was twelve, Belisa had no occupation or virtue other than having withstood hunger and the exhaustion of centuries. During one interminable drought, it fell to her to bury four younger brothers and sisters, when she realized that her turn was next, she decided to set out across the 2 plains in the direction of the sea, in hopes that she might trick death along the way. The land was eroded, split with deep cracks, strewn with rocks, fossils of trees and thorny bushes, and skeletons of animals bleached by the sun. From time to time she ran into families who, like her, were heading south, following the mirage of water. Some had begun the march carrying their belongings on their back or in small carts, but they could barely move their own bones, and after a while they had to abandon their possessions. They dragged themselves along painfully, their skin turned to lizard hide and their eyes burned by the reverberating glare. Belisa greeted them with a wave as she passed, but she did not stop, because she had no strength to waste in acts of compassion. Many people fell by the wayside, but she was so stubborn that she survived to cross through that hell and at long last reach the first trickles of water, fine, almost invisible threads that fed spindly vegetation and farther down widened into small streams and marshes. Belisa Crepusculario saved her life and in the process accidentally discovered writing. In a village near the coast, the wind blew a page of newspaper at her feet. She picked up the brittle yellow paper and stood a long while looking at it, unable to determine its purpose, until curiosity overcame her shyness. She walked over to a man who was washing his horse in the muddy pool where she had quenched her thirst. "What is this?" she asked. "The sports page of the newspaper," the man replied, concealing his surprise at her ignorance. The answer astounded the girl, but she did not want to seem rude, so she merely inquired about the significance of the fly tracks scattered across the page. "Those are words, child. Here it says that Fulgencio Barba knocked out El Negro Tiznao in the third round." That was the day Belisa Crepusculario found out that words make their way in the world without a master, and that anyone with a little cleverness can appropriate them and do business with them. She made a quick assessment of her situation and concluded that aside from becoming a prostitute or working as a servant in the kitchens of the rich there were few occupations she was qualified for. It seemed to her that selling words would be an honorable alternative. From that moment on, she worked at that profession, and was never tempted by any other. At the beginning, she offered her merchandise unaware that words could be written outside of newspapers. When she learned otherwise, she calculated the infinite possibilities of her trade and with her savings paid a priest twenty pesos to teach her to read and write, with her three 3 remaining coins she bought a dictionary. She poured over it from A to Z and then threw it into the sea, because it was not her intention to defraud her customers with packaged words. One August morning several years later, Belisa Crepusculario was sitting in her tent in the middle of a plaza, surrounded by the uproar of market day, selling legal arguments to an old man who had been trying for sixteen years to get his pension. Suddenly she heard yelling and thudding hoofbeats. She looked up from her writing and saw, first, a cloud of dust, and then a band of horsemen come galloping into the plaza. They were the Colonel's men, sent under orders of El Mulato, a giant known throughout the land for the speed of his knife and his loyalty to his chief. Both the Colonel and El Mulato had spent their lives fighting in the civil war, and their names were ineradicably linked to devastation and calamity. The rebels swept into town like a stampeding herd, wrapped in noise, bathed in sweat, and leaving a hurricane of fear in their trail. Chickens took wing, dogs ran for their lives, women and children scurried out of sight, until the only living soul left in the market was Belisa Crepusculario. She had never seen El Mulato and was surprised to see him walking toward her. "I'm looking for you," he shouted, pointing his coiled whip at her, even before the words were out, two men rushed her -- knocking over her canopy and shattering her inkwell -- bound her hand and foot, and threw her like a sea bag across the rump of El Mulato's mount. Then they thundered off toward the hills. Hours later, just as Belisa Crepusculario was near death, her heart ground to sand by the pounding of the horse, they stopped, and four strong hands set her down. She tried to stand on her feet and hold her head high, but her strength failed her and she slumped to the ground, sinking into a confused dream. She awakened several hours later to the murmur of night in the camp, but before she had time to sort out the sounds, she opened her eyes and found herself staring into the impatient glare of El Mulato, kneeling beside her. "Well, woman, at last you've come to," he said. To speed her to her senses, he tipped his canteen and offered her a sip of liquor laced with gunpowder. She demanded to know the reason for such rough treatment, and El Mulato explained that the Colonel needed her services. He allowed her to splash water on her face, and then led her to the far end of the camp where the most feared man in all the land was lazing in a hammock strung between two trees. She could not see his face, because he lay in the deceptive shadow of the leaves and the indelible shadow of all his years as a bandit, but she imagined from the way his 4 gigantic aide addressed him with such humility that he must have a very menacing expression. She was surprised by the Colonel's voice, as soft and well-modulated as a professor's. "Are you the woman who sells words?" he asked. "At your service," she stammered, peering into the dark and trying to see him better. The Colonel stood up, and turned straight toward her. She saw dark skin and the eyes of a ferocious puma, and she knew immediately that she was standing before the loneliest man in the world. "I want to be President," he announced. The Colonel was weary of riding across that godforsaken land, waging useless wars and suffering defeats that no subterfuge could transform into victories. For years he had been sleeping in the open air, bitten by mosquitoes, eating iguanas and snake soup, but those minor inconveniences were not why he wanted to change his destiny. What truly troubled him was the terror he saw in people's eyes. He longed to ride into a town beneath a triumphal arch with bright flags and flowers everywhere, he wanted to be cheered, and be given newly laid eggs and freshly baked bread. Men fled at the sight of him, children trembled, and women miscarried from fright, he had had enough, and so he had decided to become President. El Mulato had suggested that they ride to the capital, gallop up to the Palace, and take over the government, the way they had taken so many other things without anyone's permission. The Colonel, however, did not want to be just another tyrant, there had been enough of those before him and, besides, if he did that, he would never win people's hearts. It was his aspiration to win the popular vote in the December elections. "To do that, I have to talk like a candidate. Can you sell me the words for a speech?" the Colonel asked Belisa Crepusculario. She had accepted many assignments, but none like this. She did not dare refuse, fearing that El Mulato would shoot her between the eyes, or worse still, that the Colonel would burst into tears. There was more to it than that, however, she felt the urge to help him because she felt a throbbing warmth beneath her skin, a powerful desire to touch that man, to fondle him, to clasp him in her arms. All night and a good part of the following day, Belisa Crepusculario searched her repertory for words adequate for a presidential speech, closely watched by El Mulato, who could not take his eyes from her firm wanderer's legs and virginal breasts. She discarded harsh, cold words, words 5 that were too flowery, words worn from abuse, words that offered improbable promises, untruthful and confusing words, until all she had left were words sure to touch the minds of men and women's intuition. Calling upon the knowledge she had purchased from the priest for twenty pesos, she wrote the speech on a sheet of paper and then signaled El Mulato to untie the rope that bound her ankles to a tree. He led her once more to the Colonel, and again she felt the throbbing anxiety that had seized her when she first saw him. She handed him the paper and waited while he looked at it, holding it gingerly between thumbs and fingertips. "What the shit does this say," he asked finally. "Don't you know how to read?" "War's what I know," he replied. She read the speech aloud. She read it three times, so her client could engrave it on his memory. When she finished, she saw the emotion in the faces of the soldiers who had gathered round to listen, and saw that the Colonel's eyes glittered with enthusiasm, convinced that with those words the presidential chair would be his. "If after they've heard it three times, the boys are still standing there with their mouths hanging open, it must mean the thing's damn good, Colonel" was El Mulato's approval. "All right, woman. How much do I owe you?" the leader asked. "One peso, Colonel." "That's not much," he said, opening the pouch he wore at his belt, heavy with proceeds from the last foray. "The peso entitles you to a bonus. I'm going to give you two secret words," said Belisa Crepusculario. "What for?" She explained that for every fifty centavos a client paid, she gave him the gift of a word for his exclusive use. The Colonel shrugged. He had no interest at all in her offer, but he did not want to be impolite to someone who had served him so well. She walked slowly to the leather stool where he was sitting, and bent down to give him her gift. The man smelled the scent of a mountain cat issuing from the woman, a fiery heat radiating from her hips, he heard the terrible whisper of her hair, and a breath of sweetmint murmured into his ear the two secret words that were his alone. "They are yours, Colonel," she said as she stepped back. "You may use them as much as you 6 please." El Mulato accompanied Belisa to the roadside, his eyes as entreating as a stray dog's, but when he reached out to touch her, he was stopped by an avalanche of words he had never heard before; believing them to be an irrevocable curse, the flame of his desire was extinguished. During the months of September, October, and November the Colonel delivered his speech so many times that had it not been crafted from glowing and durable words it would have turned to ash as he spoke. He travelled up and down and across the country, riding into cities with a triumphal air, stopping in even the most forgotten villages where only the dump heap betrayed a human presence, to convince his fellow citizens to vote for him. While he spoke from a platform erected in the middle of the plaza, El Mulato and his men handed out sweets and painted his name on all the walls in gold frost. No one paid the least attention to those advertising ploys; they were dazzled by the clarity of the Colonel's proposals and the poetic lucidity of his arguments, infected by his powerful wish to right the wrongs of history, happy for the first time in their lives. When the Candidate had finished his speech, his soldiers would fire their pistols into the air and set off firecrackers, and when finally they rode off, they left behind a wake of hope that lingered for days on the air, like the splendid memory of a comet's tail. Soon the Colonel was the favorite. No one had ever witnessed such a phenomenon: a man who surfaced from the civil war, covered with scars and speaking like a professor, a man whose fame spread to every corner of the land and captured the nation's heart. The press focused their attention on him. Newspapermen came from far away to interview him and repeat his phrases, and the number of his followers and enemies continued to grow. "We're doing great, Colonel," said El Mulato, after twelve successful weeks of campaigning. But the Candidate did not hear. He was repeating his secret words, as he did more and more obsessively. He said them when he was mellow with nostalgia; he murmured them in his sleep; he carried them with him on horseback; he thought them before delivering his famous speech; and he caught himself savoring them in his leisure time. And every time he thought of those two words, he thought of Belisa Crepusculario, and his senses were inflamed with the memory of her feral scent, her fiery heat, the whisper of her hair, and her sweetmint breath in his ear, until he began to go around like a sleepwalker, and his men realized that he might die before he ever sat in the presidential chair. "What's got hold of you, Colonel," El Mulato asked so often that finally one day his chief broke 7 down and told him the source of his befuddlement: those two words that were buried like two daggers in his gut. "Tell me what they are and maybe they'll lose their magic," his faithful aide suggested. "I can't tell them, they're for me alone," the Colonel replied. Saddened by watching his chief decline like a man with a death sentence on his head, El Mulato slung his rifle over his shoulder and set out to find Belisa Crepusculario. He followed her trail through all that vast country, until he found her in a village in the far south, sitting under her tent reciting her rosary of news. He planted himself, spraddle-legged, before her, weapon in hand. "You! You're coming with me," he ordered. She had been waiting. She picked up her inkwell, folded the canvas of her small stall, arranged her shawl around her shoulders, and without a word took her place behind El Mulato's saddle. They did not exchange so much as a word in all the trip; El Mulato's desire for her had turned into rage, and only his fear of her tongue prevented his cutting her to shreds with his whip. Nor was he inclined to tell her that the Colonel was in a fog, and that a spell whispered into his ear had done what years of battle had not been able to do. Three days later they arrived at the encampment, and immediately, in view of all the troops, El Mulato led his prisoner before the Candidate. "I brought this witch here so you can give her back her words, Colonel," El Mulato said, pointing the barrel of his rifle at the woman's head. "And then she can give you back your manhood." The Colonel and Belisa Crepusculario stared at each other, measuring one another from a distance. The men knew then that their leader would never undo the witchcraft of those accursed words, because the whole world could see the voracious-puma eyes soften as the woman walked to him and took his hand in hers. Copyright © 1989 by Isabel Allende From The Stories of Eva Luna, Translated by Margaret Sayers Peden

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