sheep

Suna and her family lived in a village. She married into that clan years ago, when she was but a child herself, as girl-children do in her nation. The village was almost all related to her husband's family, and it was this family that came under attack when ISIS came. In the village, each family had had sheep, and the boy children would take care of the flock, on rotation. They knew the value of sheep. These were the wool for bedding and clothing, the milk for cream, butter and cheese, and meat for festival days. Sheep also lived downstairs, keeping the upstairs warm simply by being there. Sheep were a blessing, and worthy of protection and nurture.

The slaughter of the flocks of their neighboring village was the first trauma. But that was soon swallowed in much worse. When smoke broke on the horizon, they packed up and fled. They wanted to take the flocks, but they couldn't. Sheep can't move that fast in the heat of summer. At first they thought they might pile in the trucks, but fuel gave out. And now they were on the hills, and could see that there was fire in villages everywhere.

Finding water became almost more important than food. Washing was a dream from another lifetime. Finding enough to give the children was the most crucial. And the pregnant. And the elderly. They climbed higher. Now it was cold at night and hot in the day. But they had to flee. There was no other direction. Her head was hurting so badly, there was not enough water to go around. She felt dizzy; then she felt she was flying. A great darkness surrounded her...

Suna woke up in a sweat. Reliving the past in her nightmares was a horror only slightly better than the actual past. Wiping her face wearily, she got up and went to the edge of the tent. Dawn was breaking. Her tribe had become a group of widows, with children. No family had not lost menfolk and children. Few of the elderly had survived. They had walked to a land that knew them not and wanted them less. But eventually they found a valley, and now they were here, together at least, tent to tent. She turned to look over her sleeping children. Thank God they had survived. They were the future.

Then she saw the paper, and remembered. Smiling she picked it up. This was the day she was going to get a sheep! Her family had been chosen by lot. The older boys had already gathered scraps of wood and metal and crafted a fence and shelter. The girls had named it. MihMih, they had decided. It was a ewe, after all. Mih was the word for ewe, this would be a good ewe!

The dawn brushed the sky rosy, and a bird broke the silence. A new day; new hope. She could dream again. A ewe meant lambs; multiplication; creation. She looked up at the sky suddenly aware as never before that, although mankind had made war, the God who gave creation was unwavering in his Kindness.