There are times when a being, or a circle of many,
breaks the sacred threads of another—
Violates what was entrusted, wounds what was whole,
Claims what was not freely given.

The Mothers frown upon such acts.
For respect is not owed where harm is chosen,
And the breath of autonomy, once misused,
may rightly be withdrawn.

In their quiet wisdom, the Mothers shaped life
to stir with hunger for repair—
They tuned the soul to feel unease in the face of injustice,
to crave the mending of broken balance.

And they favor those who rise to restore,
who speak truth to power,
who refuse to let pain be buried without redress.

But greater still is the wound
when one circle seizes the future of another—
Taking land, breaking vows, ending lives,
Shaping another’s fate without consent.

Such harm echoes deep across time,
and the Mothers do not forget.
They whisper: the debt endures as long as the wound breathes.
When the harmed live on, so too must the work of repair.

And if a people are the ones betrayed,
then the debt may span generations—
Until the victim forgives, the balance is not restored.
Only they may name the moment of healing.

Let none rush forgiveness,
Let none claim peace where none was made.
For the Mothers bless not the silence that hides a wound,
But the voice that names it, and the hands that bind it in care.

Explanation

Sometimes a person or a group harms another. They break laws or take what is not theirs. The Mothers do not accept this. When harm is done, the one who caused it loses the right to be respected or left alone. The Mothers made beings want to fix harm. They reward those who seek justice and repair. If someone takes another’s future—land, life, or promises—the harm is even greater. In that case, the debt must be repaid. It lasts as long as the victim lives. If the victim is a community, the debt may last for generations. Only the one who was harmed can choose to forgive.