When the Drums Remembered Respect

Previously

…He remembered the day of the festival, the bright anticipation that had curdled into a collective disappointment when the drums remained stubbornly mute. Elder Maeve’s kind eyes, usually twinkling with warmth, had held a deep concern that mirrored the quiet sorrow in his grandmother’s face. He had seen it then, the palpable sadness that had settled over his home, a shadow cast by his own thoughtless actions. Chapter 12 had been a revelation. Sitting beside his grandmother, listening to her gentle voice weave tales of the drums and the spirits that resided within them, he had begun to understand. It wasn’t just about the sound; it was about the heart