Mother tells me that when I was born, she had held me, gazing into my big hazel eyes, and known at once i would grow up to be someone special. Then Father had gently taken me into his rough hands, feeling as proud and happy as he had ever felt.

I didn't have a name back then. You see on this island we have a special ritual to choose the babies name. Here's what you do: on its first birthday you dress it in a white linen dress. As the sun rises you set the baby free, wherever it wants. Yes, it's dangerous, but it has been passing on for generations. But that is only half the story. If you see a baby, alone, once the sun is setting, you bring it home. You are now his or her godparent. Now, choosing-the-name-bit: it is impossible to keep a white linen dress clean, especially if you are a baby. So what the mother and father do, once the baby is safely brought back home to them by the godparent, is look at the dress and choose a suitable name for their child. Here are some examples: my older brother is called Amber. When he was small he played in the forest and his whole dress was then sticky and yellow, and covered in sap. My cousins name is Rose, for she cut her finger on the flowers nasty thorn, then dabbed the bleeding finger on her white dress. A little red spot appeared there, as red as the rose itself. My mother's name is Blueberry. She was found, on her first birthday, in a blueberry bush, with a blue mouth, purple hands and a very colorful dress. I was a different story altogether...

I was so small; the island seemed as big as the whole world. The trees reached the clouds and stars, the lake was an ocean, the grass which reached others to the knees was up to my chest. I probably felt lost. But then again, everybody was once so small, so lost. What went wrong? Maybe there was a big mist and I couldn't see? Maybe there was a great storm and I got scared? Whatever the reason, it's too late now. Anyways, on with the story...

I got found standing in the sand by the ocean, not far from the village, by Blackbird, an elderly lady. Everybody knows it brings luck and good crops and great health if their godchild is a girl, strength, power and more intelligence if it is a boy. So Blackbird came out in the twilight, to pick me up, bring me back home. She gasped when she saw me, hesitated to bring me in or leave me outside. After all I was just a small innocent child, so Blackbird felt great pity for me. She picked me up and carried me back to the hut, shedding a small quick tear. I don't blame her for crying, for my dress was all pure white.

One important thing I forgot to mention- if you are found with a white dress, your name cannot be chosen. What they do with children like that, is name them Nothing and make them work, while the other children learn from their parents and play.

White is an unlucky color. The winter is white. Nothing grows, nothing can live in the cold, long, harsh white winters. For us, white is the color of death.