Eden Lorenz-Alves | 4th Year | Castelobruxo

With roots connecting to England and Ecuador, Eden Carla Lorenz-Alves was born on May 6th 2012 in Tavira, Portugal to proud first-time parents, Carlos and Beatriz Lorenz-Alves. An only child, Eden was the sole focus of her parent’s energy. Her beloved papá’s roots lead to Ecuador, where he spent most of his young life before meeting Beatriz. When Eden was five, her abuelo was in a tragic accident which sent Carlos, Beatriz, and her to Ecuador to care for him until he died. Her family was quite shaken up by his death, and the Lorenz-Alves family nearly went back to Portugal when Eden suddenly had her first instance of magic when her parents were helping her get ready for her abuelo’s funeral. Knowing Eden would have to attend school in South America, the family built a house across from her abuela’s and sent their things from Portugal. Eden was surrounded with a strong, loving family, even more so after moving. Her abuela insisted she attend at least three months of public school before Castelobruxo so she had a sense of both her parents’ school systems. Eden hated it, but withstood, attending four months of public school when she was eight and understood a decent amount of Spanish which she learned from her papá.

After settling in Ecuador with her family, Eden was surrounded by loving and devoted family members and friends. Her dad’s childhood best friend Juan and his wife Isa lived nearby the Lorenz-Alves and were an active part of Eden’s life, becoming adults she looked at as family. Her life in Ecuador primarily revolved around her family. Aunts and uncles lived within minutes of Eden, making them accessible to make snacks and tell stories at any hour of the day. Liam, her paternal uncle, took his time carefully helping Eden learn all about the fishing culture. Ana, her paternal aunt, and her husband spent hours cooking with Eden in their kitchen, making dishes like encocado or Bolón de verde. On some lucky weekends, Eden got to look forward to traveling to the Ayangue beach with her family followed by a lunch of ceviche or arroz marinero. While it was no Tavira, she adored those days spent on the beach. Sometimes, her abuela would collect sea shells with her during those trips. She’d press them into Eden's hand and whisper, “Esta es la manera que tiene tu abuelo de agradecerte por venir aquí.” “This is your grandpa’s way of thanking you for coming here.”

She grew up sending letters to her Portuguese family. Her avó would insist Eden remained practicing and speaking Portuguese regularly in addition to Spanish, which led to them exchanging letters often. Her mãe kept a little pygmy owl named Beka around the house just so Eden could communicate with them whenever she needed to. Eden’s Portuguese family consisted of her mother’s two sisters, Emila and Mae who were also raised in Portugal with Beatriz, Emila’s son Matthew, and her grandparents. During Eden’s brief stint in muggle schooling at eight, she grew close with many local children in the area, several of whom had fathers who worked with Eden’s dad. They’d play games together after school, Eden taught many of them a handful of words in Portuguese. Whenever she’s at home from Castelobruxo for a holiday, she takes the time to see many of her former classmates. Starting schooling at Castelobruxo proved to be a struggle to Eden. She was not used to living that far from her family and not being able to see them or hear their voices for months on end. Eden struggled to pick up the Brazilian dialect of Portuguese having been raised with Portugal’s language formalities and accent. The word differences caught her unprepared multiple times. Fortunately, Eden made it through her first and second years without a scar.

The sun, like Eden, was barely awake. It was the day of her abuelo’s funeral and burial. She’d hardly slept last night, awakened by Abuela’s sobs late into the night. Her mãe had tugged her black dress over her head and combed through her hair. Papá was busy trying to straighten the ribbon she wore, when Eden noticed his red eyes, the way his shoulders shook, the tracks the tears had left on his face like a roadmap. Her heart broke. Suddenly, Carlos dropped the ribbon in frustration, scowling at the ground, chucking the thin piece of string down in anger. Eden, wildly upset to see her papá that way, gasped, and the ribbon never touched the ground. It held in front of her brown eyes, dropping when Carlos swept her into a hug, shouting, “¡Mi hija es una bruja!” “My daughter is a witch!” over and over. Her mãe rushed into the room, wiping a mixture of mourning tears and tears of celebration from her face. She wasted no time applauding Eden on having her first instance of magic at only five.