What is vengeance.

She wept. The soot on her hands, this had to be the work of demons. no human person could burn her mother.
The winter was cold. The lake was frozen, earlier this year due to some weather phenomenon going on. The children took to the ice to try and pry sticks that from the nearby trees fell and stayed upright in the freezing water. The little ones were fun to watch. After they fell especially. For a moment, they looked just like a turtle flipping their legs about and wailing like a mad banshee. The most amazing of things happens from time to time, and that's when you should be watching, because that's when the Devil's got ya, they stop, and in solemn peace turn over. This figuring out of life is for what my mother burnt at the stake.
The summers were all the same. Quiet. Nothing happened in the ravine. Generally used to water the horses and take the clothes to be washed, a bit further downstream, it was filled with all manner of green bush. Mama always plucked the leaves to and from a few of the bushes, careful not to touch the flowered ones, just the leaves. There was talk you know, I was little'ler then but the missus, she hid me in the pantry where the potato sacks and flour were kept and I could hear them city folk talk their talk. All hush hush about how mama was a witch.
We never went to church. That church building, beautiful as it was, all white with that nice little T on top that no one ever told me what it was for, Temptation or something, was just too damn far, pardon my there words. Some good-for-nothin' judge presided over the matters of the Lord, or so I was told. Jeremiah something or other. He comes over one rainy Sunday, mom had just put the supper pots away after we cleaned them good, when the Mister walked unto the porch demanding to see mama. Now, mama, from the rooster plucking worms from under the fat man's beautiful, nice, black and white, mud-covered shoes, to the roof over they heads, she owned it. Oh yes. My daddy done good. He was a Marshall and done caught many an animal, I shouldn't say that, but he ain't he'a. With the proceeds bought this here estate, the land, mules, oxen, stable, hands' quarters, and left good monies at the bank in town. Now come this he'a city-ation, because this trouble belongs to the city, I don't know why they gotta come bother us folk out he'a in the country, to take my Moma away...
All this soot, this is my Moma. What is vengeance?