"You can't let them know who you really are!" my mother cried indignantly, "we've been over this a dozen times!"
How can a child understand that? They looked the same. They sounded the same. Yet, in some inexplicable fashion, they were so different. "They just... They won't understand..." tears welled in her eyes, "Listen, sweetie, you know I love you, and I only want what's best for you, right?"
I shook my head softly. Did I believe her? Mom and Dad were all I knew, of course she was honest with me. She had no reason to lie, did she? What could she stand to gain from lying to me?
"Then you just have to trust me, okay? They won't understand... Not now... Not yet... One day when you're older, you'll understand why we have to keep things this way."
"I just want to be normal!" My cheeks were warm now. A distinct taste of salt struck my tongue.
"Oh! But don't you see! You're better than normal! One day, you're going to look back on all of this and realize what a blessing you truly are! Not just to me and Dad, but to everyone. One day the world will know you, and love you. Just not yet... Not now. I'm sorry, honey, I know it's hard, but I promise..." She paused. She had a way of speaking that was so reassuring. Perfectly timed pauses created such emphasis and impact on her words. I knew she spoke the truth, at least, what she thought was true. "One day you'll understand."