Heartache in 749

8 Sivan

May 29th

Dear Diary,

I suppose I should be on top of the world or over the moon with gladness because I am carrying the precious Son of HaShem. I am so ashamed to admit it just simply is not so. Perhaps you recall that my betrothedès  mother strode off with Imma to have a talk, undoubtedly about me, and I was left to wander forlornly down the busy market street by myself.

I continued to wander down the dusty street; pass the heaps of assorted fruits in their sprawling baskets, and past the basket and mat weavers stall.When I came to the booth where stacks of pottery were displayed, since I had nothing better to do, I just stopped.

I barely noticed when a donkey, heavily laden with copper pots clattered to a stop beside me. By the weary tilt of the donkey's head I knew they had come from a large ways. The owner noisily began to unload his wares. With arms folded as if in self-protection, I stared off into the empty field just beyond the village. After awhile I turned around and trudged down the other side of the street. I did not know whether or not to make our purchases since Imma was carrying the basket.

Eventually Imma located me. When I saw the tenderness in her troubled, yet compassionate look, my throat filled. Hilde broke away from my mother and strode off. Disapproval stuck out from her like seams on a garment worn inside out.
Imma took me by the elbow and gently lead me away from the crowds. 

to be continued.

This is an excerpt from the favorite book I wrote. You can find it on line @bookstore@iuniverse.com