Roots of Tradition

This moment right here is why I fell in love with my culture all over again.

My cousin's wedding was in three days and I volunteered to do the bridal henna,

something I hadn't done since my grandmother taught me as a kid. As I mixed the paste, that earthy smell

hit me and suddenly I was ten again, watching her wrinkled hands create magic. My hands were shaking

when I started on her shoulder, but then muscle memory took over. Each swirl,

each delicate line connected me to generations of women in my family who did this exact thing.

She sat perfectly still, trusting me completely. When I finished and she saw it in

the mirror, we both cried. Sometimes tradition isn't just about following customs,