Website:
http://maryelizabethhall.com/.
Mary Elizabeth Hall holds degrees from Cornell and Syracuse Universities, and has a professional background in human services and program management. Her true passion, however, is for writing and editing. She’s published community research, contributed revisions to
I Can Read It (1998) for Sonlight Curriculum, and writes articles for Home Educating Family magazine. Her first novel,
Amberly, was released in August, 2012. Mary and her husband Matt live in South Carolina, where she home educates their three daughters, wipes up many messes, and writes.
Mary has written a beautiful story called "Healer" and her fifteen-year-old daughter, Kristen, provided the illustration. Here is a sample.
Healer
By Mary Elizabeth Hall
Springtime brings new life
Death of winter overcome,
Sorrow turns to hope
The Emperor lay dying. Ayame, his only daughter, rested her forehead upon his chest.
“Emi-Shou, the Bird of Healing, will come,” he whispered as he turned his head toward the terrace doorway, where bare trees arched fragile limbs toward the winter sky.
Ayame wept. Her elder brothers, evil of heart and desperate for their father’s power and wealth, had released the palace cats to drive away Emi-Shou.
Many days passed, and Spring wove her jade silk tapestry over the mountains. Ayame knelt beside her father and watched the slow rise and fall of his breathing. One morning, a flutter drew her gaze to the terrace. Emi-Shou! The brilliantly colored bird clutched at the railing with one claw, then another. Emi-Shou fell from the terrace and into a barberry bush below. Ayame rushed out and down the steps. She lifted the wounded creature from the bush and brought her inside.
“O Emi-Shou!” she cried. The Healing Bird was a golden dove with trailing plumes and ruby feathered crest. Delicate ink brush strokes lined azure eyes like those of a waxwing. The bird’s chest trembled.
“My heart desires to heal your father.” Emi-Shou’s thin voice fractured like a porcelain teacup. “But I cannot. That which is most precious to me has been taken by the Water Dragon who dwells within the Mount, and feline claws have—”
“What are you doing?” Ayame’s third eldest brother, Saburou, burst into the room.
“No!” Ayame shouted as he strode toward her. She clutched the bird to her chest.
“Out with it!” The young man’s face was hard as flint as he snatched Emi-Shou from her grasp and hurled the bird away, between blossoming plum trees.
Ayame clutched her face and slumped to the floor with a wail.
“And out with you as well.” Saburou yanked his sister up by her arm, then hastened her toward another room. He dumped her on a floor mat then latched the door. Whispers in the corridor a moment later left Ayame with no doubt that her seven brothers were conferring. The hissing voice of her eldest brother, Tarou, stood out among the rest.
“She must die...”