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The Waterhole


Like many other fours, when I was created I was dropped from the sky. The clouds curled my hair, the sun kissed my skin, and the wind tugged at my sides as I fell. Then I landed on Earth into my parents hands. There my name was clapped into existence. GA-BRI-E-LA, four syllables.

Fours are supposed to be balanced, stable, whole, and full of order. They symbolize the four directions and the four elements. I guess God got somewhat creative when he made me because my edges came out a little fuzzy.

God made my edges like the edges on an impressionist painting. He gave me layers of color that blend together. He made me like a Van Gogh, with paint caked on the canvas, jumping out at you like a bright light. He gave me swirly lines and royal blues. Colors that screamed out loud. God made me like a…

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