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Mama's Magnificent Mule
My only guide through the most difficult terrain I had known was the sound of the mule’s hoofs in front of me. Through twelve-foot clay crevices, over fallen trees and through more creeks, steep, rocky ascents and descents I lit a candle to help guide the mule and prevent us continuously tripping over. It helped a little.
The arrival felt like a Godsend. I felt surrounded by magic when we arrived into a more open space which was lit up by the starlight. The waxy leaves of the sugar cane peacefully swung in the breeze framing the pathway with luminous, shiny fronds. Fireflies randomly flashed around as we followed an easy dirt pathway into the village. I was startled by an unfamiliar sound as we reached the perimeter of the village. I looked down to find a small pig that grunted a mild reprimand for disturbing his sleep.
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