Taweret Keeps Watch

Aunt Bramble
Wyrdlore Society

In the old land of Egypt, where the river Nile rose and fell with the seasons, people spoke of a goddess who watched over every new baby and every tired new mother. Her name was Taweret, and she did not look like anybody else in the sky.

She had the round, sturdy body of a hippopotamus, because hippopotamus mothers in the river were known to be fierce and loving, and would let nothing come near their little ones. She had the strong legs of a lioness, so she could stand her ground. And along her back she carried the tail of a crocodile, curled up like a shield she never put down.

Taweret stood upright, the way a person stands, and she smiled a wide smile that showed every one of her teeth. It was not a smile to be afraid of. It was the kind of smile that says, I am here, and nothing is getting past me tonight.

Families kept small carvings of her in their homes, especially in the room where a baby slept. Sometimes she was carved holding a loop of knotted cord, a sign of protection, the kind you might tie round something precious to keep it safe. Mothers wore her shape as a charm around their necks, and some homes kept a little statue of her right beside the bed, facing the door, keeping watch.

Nobody needed to explain to Taweret what her work was. She had always done it: standing between the dark and the cradle, between the night and the newest, smallest person in the house, her wide smile turned towards whatever might come near.

And if you had visited an Egyptian home three thousand years ago, on a quiet night with a new baby asleep inside, you might have found her there still, small and clay-made on a shelf, watching the door until morning.

Aunt Bramble keeps the Society's stories for its smallest members. She has never been anywhere in a hurry, owns a very old coat with very deep pockets, and holds that a story does not have to be tidy to be true.