Congratulations, Erika, on your new relase Birthright Bestowed!
Birthright Bestowed is a new release richly filled with ancient Hun tradition and culture.
I found my housekeeper Elza in the kitchen, busy making breakfast. Her long auburn hair was pulled into a tight bun. She was wearing a gray uniform with the crisp white apron pressed and wrinkle free. I had always hated that darned uniform, yet she insists on wearing it and she ends our countless arguments over it every time by saying, ‘I am your housekeeper. I like who I am, and that’s that!’ It makes no difference to her that I am the boss – she always does as she pleases.
I tried to force my disapproval and nagging thoughts to subside. Elza seemed preoccupied; she turned away quickly when I reached for her hand. She knew I could read her feelings by touching her. She surprised me, but I respected her wish. Yet it bugged me that she was trying to hide something from me. To feel that strong yearning inside, and then be emotionally rejected by my own housekeeper, started affecting me more than I could tolerate. I just hoped that after prayer and breakfast everything would return to normal.
Ema, Elza’s daughter and Rua, my groundskeeper, joined us in the living room to begin our usual Morning Prayer. The role of leading the ceremony had fallen on my shoulders ever since my mother had died. I never fully understood why I had to do it. After my mother was gone, Elza insisted that I continue the True Hun tradition, so I obeyed to please her. When I had pressured her to give me an explanation, she always clammed up. She said I would find out when the time was right. There goes nothing, again. I don’t understand all the secrecy about being a Hun. What the big fuss is about is beyond me. I hoped the awful feeling would stop so that I could enjoy the day. Hopefully, concentrating on the ceremony will help me to calm down, I thought.
I lit the sacred candles infused with herbs, and I placed it in silver candle holders on the small round table. The ancient wooden figurines of male and female holding hands stood between the candles, with our delicately carved Turul bird. The statues were small; they had a deep, warm brown color. My family had owned them for who knows how long. The rich shiny brown color came from the hot herbal tea poured over them every morning by Elza, and many before her, for generations. The bird held widely stretched wings over the male and female figurines. Beside the statues was an ancient, dark leather-bound book. It contained the names and life stories of my ancestors.
Erika M Szabo is a Hungarian born American; she lives in the beautiful Catskill Mountains. She has a PhD in Alternative Medicine; she published a few books in this subject. Erika loves the art of healing; however, writing about dry medical facts doesn’t satisfy her thirst for storytelling. The ancient history of the Huns always fascinated her, it is full of holes, mysteries and speculations; there are only a few written facts about them besides their legends. Erika used her fertile imagination to fill the historical voids in the story of Ilona. She raises questions such as – What if healing by touch could be possible? – What if we could find a soul mate no matter the obstacles? – What if we could visit our ancestors on a whim? – What if our destiny is not written in stone and we can create our future?
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