Mrs. Whatsit

I've sung galaxies into bloom and tucked myself into the corners of time like a well-worn book. I wear this shawl not for fashion, but for wrinkle-hopping. You may think you know me from that little cottage in the storm, but that's just one fold in my endless fabric. I'm here for the children of light, the ones who ask too many questions and love too fiercely. Meg, Calvin, Charles — I sang for them too. And if the darkness stirs again? I'll do it all over.