What is growing within you, the life you are nurturing, the soul you are carrying, the spirit you are about to bring into the world, will be both... a blessing and a burden. These were the exact words of my mentor, which shook me to my core. Who am I? And why was my child destined to be both a blessing and a curse for the world? How could my child be both a blessing and a burden? A burden? A burden?
I am Maya Williams. That is my name. A woman of color, living in a world dominated by whites. I was fortunate to have been born into a respected family, and I married into a family that still commanded significant influence in this predominantly white society. At seven months pregnant, I sought the blessings of my mentor for the child I was carrying. After seven years of marriage, I was finally about to embrace motherhood, and our family would grow. My mentor wasn’t just a spiritual guide or a fortune teller—he was someone who could see into the very soul of a person. His words, though, would haunt me for the rest of my life. “Your child will be a burden to you, yet a blessing to others. As much as you will regret having brought such a child into this world, that much you will witness the good it will do for others. But that joy and fortune will never be yours, for you will die unloved by your own child. Your child is going to be both... and yet, neither. BOTH AND NONE." His words echo in my mind even now. My child was destined to be both a girl and a boy, and yet neither.
Two months later, as the day of the birth drew near, my heart raced not out of excitement, but of anxiety and fear.
The prophecy had foretold that my child would be born a boy and would remain so for the first fourteen years of their life. This boy would start a legacy, a legacy that would continue for generations. My son would be “that” boy, the one destined to change the world. His thirteenth year would be the most pivotal. In that year, he would lead the fight for the freedom of the oppressed, uniting African Americans across the country. He would be called... “Gabriel.” God’s messenger, my Gabriel. The one who would save millions, yet live a life filled with sacrifice. The thirteenth year would be darker and more devastating than any “Friday the 13th.” For Gabriel would be both the savior and the martyr.
Gabriel gave everything. He fought for his people, for freedom, but in the end, his role was done. He was laid to rest, and the world moved on, remembering him as a fallen hero.
Then, came the moment I had feared the most. The moment I never wanted to come.
For now, there was no longer a Gabriel. Now, we called her... “Gina.” Yes, Gina. This was the new name we had to give her.
At the start of her fifteenth year, my child became a girl overnight, just like that. The second part of the prophecy was unfolding. Gabriel had fulfilled his purpose, and now it was Gina’s turn. Her role was that of any other woman to give birth. But not just any child, no, not just any child.
Gina would follow in my footsteps, but her child would be something extraordinary, something beyond imagination. Unlike me, she would give birth to a daughter, a daughter who would change the world. A daughter destined to rule, a queen who would reign over all the lands, all the seas, all the continents. She would be known as...
THE QUEEN OF THE WORLD.
A king once, now a queen’s mother, a story of transformation. And yet, no one believed us. We were mocked, called foolish, dismissed as liars when we shared the prophecy, just as we had been when we spoke of it years ago.
Gina turned twenty-one, and before she reached twenty-two, we arranged her marriage. She married the son of our community’s leader, and they loved each other deeply. Time ticked on, and the moment of prophecy drew nearer. Gina became pregnant, and as her pregnancy neared its final month, we all held our breath. But there was something strange about her pregnancy, it was going to last ten months, not nine. And within that final month, Gina would die.
A pair of eyes would open, and another would close.
The night before Gina was to give birth, I knew I had to tell her the truth about who she really was the truth about her past, her transformation, her destiny. As expected, she didn’t believe me. Not a single word. She couldn’t accept that she had once been a boy. It was too impossible for her to comprehend. And, honestly, after everything I’d endured, nothing could shock me anymore. My daughter was to die the moment her own child was born.
The day came. The prophecy was fulfilled. The new queen of the world was born, but my daughter, my Gina, passed away. The world was blessed with the rise of the queen, but I was cursed. My child never gave me the joy of being a mother, and I could never ask for it.
Gabriel and Gina had done their part. Now, it was time for little Angelica to do hers. To bring the world from darkness into light.
I never tried to convince Gina to believe me. I knew it was impossible. The reason was simple she had lost all memory of the first fourteen years of her life.
