“White folks don’t understand a thing about our magic.” “Both the stars and the herbs,” Esther added with a laugh as she wound string around a bundle of herbs. “The skies and rivers, and rain and sunlight,” Hetty recited. “The wind and soil, the storms and the calm,” they said together, repeating the words their mother had sung to them. “The magic is the world and it moves through us. There are words and rhyme and—”
