I remember the dust, dry on clothes, glued on me. The desire for a warm place, protected from the cold winds of winter … interminable was our journey. My wife walked quiet and silent. A heavy bundle balanced on the head, and our little Isaac on his back, three weeks of life, tied tight with a white linen band.

Sometimes my wife sang a sweet song, to cradle the baby during the journey. So he was at peace, my little gift of Immense, my child. His dark eyes watched the world all around him, and on his little face two dimples dug out of the habit of a smile.

We were already three days’ walk away from our village, but I was still restless, worried. I could not stay. We heard voices of the occupation brought by enemy troops a little further to the north. In the assaulted villages the men were killed and the women reduced to slavery. I had to protect my family. Continue reading “Isaac’s laughter” →