ANNABELLE LIEBERMANN

   The sound of a clattering carriage submerges the space into 1879. A ten-year-old child holds a doll dressed in a tea rose crochet gown, and her eyes, the color of dark chocolate, look at the heavens, where the sun rises. She arrives at a convent in the back of an open carriage on a chilly morning in the Occitanie region in southwestern France. Her lineage was not of the grandest in the nation. Her father was a man enamored with vices who seldom arrived at his home to care for the woman with whom he had a child. Her mother, tired of doing everything independently, fell ill one day and died unexpectedly uncared and unprotected. The circumstances left the girl alone, soon to become an orphan. 

   Nuns received the girl, walking her from the cold darkness of the present, ascending with the child up the stairs into a luscious garden cultivated by women for generations. The first thing Annabelle noticed as she walked in was sophisticated beauty. The beauty of the architecture, arches that repeat themselves coherently around the courtyard, the enamoring stillness of a fresh flower, the precise details in the style of the nun's clothing, the captivating softness of a statue of our Lady of Lourdes made entirely of one piece of ivory marble, the Lady wore a belt around her waist the color of forget-me-nots, and a golden rose on each foot. "She is so beautiful," says the child inwardly. The order, structure, and discipline in which the girls lived daily gave Annabelle the safety she so much yearned for. 

   Her oval, delicate face and large brown eyes illuminate with joy as she looks around the convent. The lass is outwardly focused, providing all her attention to another when she speaks. Her spirit is fearless yet calm and mature beyond her years. She wears her hair in a braid, framing a face filled with wonder and a marvelous, almost impossible future. When she turned 18, Annabelle left the convent with her friend Amelié Mercier to work at a shop in Paris embroidering the dresses of the women enamored by the gowns of la belle époch. The nuns taught Annabelle to embroider at the convent, and it became a talent she developed. She created beautiful compositions that sparkled on soft fabrics, draping over women with such opulence.

   During her first night in Paris, she had a strange dream about a white horse galloping through a meadow covered in snakes that, with a single touch, would kill her if she fell off it. The serpents gleamed with an ominous bluish light, making themselves known, yearning for her fall, and the horse that carried her stepped on them all the way past the dark lands. The creature was a magical being because it was the only one the snakes could not hurt to death. Annabelle remained confident, trusting entirely in the journey she had embarked on—a mighty dangerous crusade.   

  When she arrived at a château, Annabelle was safe to step on land again, bringing the horse to a fountain where clear water flowed and spring flowers danced. The regal white animal remained there, quenching its thirst with the crystalline water perfumed by the flowers, thirsty after the arduous journey over the enveloping darkness. Annabelle walked up the curved staircase and ascended toward the unknown. A gentle presence stepped behind her. Noticing this, she felt not disturbed by fear and continued up the stairs of the petit château that curved like curls. Arriving at the top floor, Annabelle finds a heavy wooden chest with giant brass buckles on the floor. The treasure box looks like it has been waiting patiently for decades, covered in dust. With a puff of breath, she clears and opens it. Within it, she finds a mantle to wear over her frail body, embroidered entirely with jewels, diamonds, buttons of melted silver, emeralds the color of warm rose petals, every jewel embroidered on a translucent fabric with a silver thread the color of moonlight holding each jewel together in harmony just like the sky holds every star for eternity. She felt as if angels had gifted her abundant spiritual fortune. 

  The clouds outside cleared, and sunlight slowly increased, illuminating her beautiful presence as she put on the mantle, covering her delicate frame with the weight of the jewels. The strange presence she noticed on her ascension of the stairs walked into the room, a gentleman with a tender gaze and eyes in the color of a cloudless sky. Annabelle said, "I have nothing to offer you but all of who I am." The gentleman extended his hand and responded, "That is more than I will ever need." Awakening from this strange dream, she embraces herself, surprised and terrified at the same time. Love is a foreign concept, like walking on the moon without gravity! But Annabelle knew that near the present, she would become a bride and take on her life's most critical role—becoming a woman within a marriage where the success of the former would largely depend on her. Her destiny will be entirely in her hands the moment she says I do.