There is a fruit in the Amazon that stares back at you. Crack it open and you will find it: a dark seed wrapped in a white membrane, pupil and sclera, the unmistakable impression of a human eye frozen mid-gaze inside a cluster of red berries. The Sateré-Mawé people of the Amazon did not consider this a coincidence. They considered it a memory. Press enter or click to view image in full size AI-Generated Image The memory belonged to a boy named Cauê. The story goes like this. A couple from the Mawé tribe had lived many years without children, their home full of love and short on laughter. They prayed to Tupã the supreme god, the maker of thunder and Tupã, who saw their goodness, answered. A boy arrived into their lives the way light arrives after a long night: all at once, and completely. Cauê grew into someone remarkable. Not remarkable in the way rulers or warriors are remarkable, through force or distance, but remarkable in the older, quieter way: he could speak with animals.…