Small Paws, Golden Cure

The winter sickness took Mama's strength. The cave was cold, but the fear in my heart was colder.

I found the elder who guarded the golden cure, but he looked at my small paws and

growled, "No tribute, no cure." I was too small to hunt,

but I didn't stop. I climbed the highest trees for honey. I stood in the freezing river for fish.

The ice bit my skin. I wanted to give up, but I remembered her face,

so I fought harder. I dropped the feast at the elder's feet. He didn't growl this time.

He gave me the flower. I ran home and placed it by her nose. "Wake up, Mama," I whispered.

"I fought the mountain for you." I may be small, but today, I am the provider.