Blissful Mornings - Genhe : The Light Sparkler

In a quiet island village nestled beside the Gulf of the Abundant Seas, there lived a child

named Genhe. From the moment she could walk, the sun seemed to follow her. The villagers

called her The Light Sparkler, for she would dash across the shore, barefoot and wide-eyed,

chasing the golden rays that pierced through heavy clouds. Her laughter would lift like gulls

into the wind.

She adored light in all its forms—morning beams, the shimmer on waves, the shimmer in

others. She’d gather sea moss, starfish, and shells, and adorn herself like a creature of the

tide. The village seamstress, Mar, was inspired by her joy and began adding sea accents to

her once plain swaddles.

But not all saw Genhe’s radiance. One season, visitors from a neighboring island ridiculed

her. They stole her carefully collected sea treasures and mocked the way she danced with

the waves. Heartbroken, Genhe withdrew. She no longer ran along the shore. Instead, she

turned inward, brushing pigments from pounded leaves and pressed berries to create

sacred patterns on Mar’s swaddles. It became her prayer—to protect other young girls from

the same ridicule, to clothe them in beauty and strength.

Then one stormy season, the village faced a deep famine. The sea, once generous, withdrew.

The spearfishers returned empty-handed. The village dimmed.

And Genhe… listened.

One morning, just after the storm’s passing, Genhe ventured to the sea by boat. She saw a

sliver of golden light cascading upon the water. It swirled. It danced. And then… dolphins

emerged. She heard them—not in words, but in knowing. Each morning she returned, and

at the sea’s edge, she began to find shimmering fibers—delicate, like abaca, but blessed with

light.

She gathered them. Wove them. Her fingers remembered the rhythms of connection. With

help from her friend Pilau, they cast her handmade net into the sea… and caught a single

fish. She beamed with awe, her spirit lit again—not by acclaim, but by reunion.

She ran to the village, breathless. Mar and the elders listened. The fishermen wept. They all

began to gather abaca and weave nets, inspired by Genhe’s gift.

In time, the famine lifted.

Even the children who once mocked her returned her stolen treasures. They bowed their

heads and placed them at her feet. Genhe said nothing. She simply smiled… and ran, again,

along the shore—arms outstretched like wings, the light catching in her shawl, dancing once

more.

-Bliss Chains Authors