The Wolf and the Rattlesnake

When Lilith started becoming scared of monsters under the bed and shadows in the closet, we'd talk. I'd tell her that yes, there are monsters in the closet, but they're there to watch over you. And yes, there are monsters under the bed, but they're there to make sure you're safe while you sleep. The stories grew and expanded, and at night, we'd say goodnight to the ghosts in the attic, the werewolves in the backyard, and the vampires in the basement. Sometimes, I'd forget our zombie friends, and Lilith would take offense on their behalf. We say good night to the bats in the trees, and we say goodnight to the ghost rats in the walls, and we tell stories about what they do during the day when she's at school and I'm at work. So, at night, she's snug in her bed, safe with all her monster friends.

But then she'd have nightmares about rattlesnakes or volcanoes, and while I try to comfort her when she calls out, I know that there will always be something hiding — for her, for all of us — in darkened corners. All we can do sometimes is reach out to one another and hold hands in the dark.

Lilith, there's so much in the world that's gloomy and thick with shadows. I can't protect you from all of it, but the gods know I will try. I will do whatever I can to help you navigate the darkness, and I will be there holding whatever torches I can muster. You are brave and you are strong: you are the wolf, my werewolf, and I know with all my heart that you will always conquer your rattlesnakes.