And he said to them, “Pay attention to what your hear; the measure you give will be the measure you get, and still more will be given you.
For to those who have, more will be given; and from tose who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away.”
Mark 4:24, 25
It appears that many ladies don’t bother to drag out the iron while creating clothing. I will not be naming names or showing photos. There are many photos across of the blogosphere showing creases where the fabric has been folded and the other wrinkles that are an inevitable when sewing a garment.
Maybe these ladies are self-taught, but that still is a poor excuse for not even pressing the completed garment. I can’t imagine why someone would not press out the creases from the fabric before trying to cut out the pattern pieces. Logic says that’s the only way to cut out the pieces accurately.
Pressing the seams during construction is another matter. If no one has ever taught a person to do that, it just might not occur to everyone that they will create a more professional look that way.
Are any of my readers skipping this part of construction? If so, please share why.
I received a review copy of this Bible courtesy of Audra Jennings of the B & B Media Group Inc. It’s a ThinLine Bible which is a very nice size – comfortable in hand, but print not too small to read easily.
I chose to receive a copy with the apocrypha. These books are not part of the Hebrew Scriptures and are of questionable authorship or authenticity, but I wanted to read them for historical background.
I prefer the translations that put the words of Jesus in red letters, but am adapting to reading this one. For my devoted time, I go back to either the Revised Standard or New Revised Standard translations, as I’m most comfortable with them. This is from my Bible college days, and is well marked and with notations in the margins. (Before college I thought a person was never supposed to write in the Bible.)
I will be posting on this translation through May. If you have any questions, please leave them in the comment section or go here to read it for yourself.
It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old…or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!
You never know when I might play a wild card on you!
***Special thanks to Cathy Hickling of Whitaker House for sending me a review copy.***
Laura V. Hilton is a pastor’s wife, homeschooling mother of five, breast cancer survivor, author and book lover. Although her educational background is in business, reading is Laura’s lifelong passion, and writing a gift she’s developed to the delight of her growing fan base. Laura’s reputation for the authenticity of her Amish settings is no accident – it’s in her blood as she learned as a child from her Pennsylvania Amish grandmother. Besides her Amish of Seymour Series for Whitaker House, Laura published two novels for Treble Heart Books, contributed to a Zondervan devotional, and has written hundreds of book reviews for the American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW), Christian Suspense Zone, and a variety of Internet publications. She also posts reviews on her book review blog: www.lighthouse-academy.blogspot.com. Laura and her family live in Horseshoe Bend, Arkansas.
Visit the author’s website.
Annie Beiler is a spunky, spirited schoolteacher, but she’s struggled ever since the man she was promised to “jumped the fence” and left the Amish of Seymour. She needs a man who is committed to his Amish beliefs. And now, she’s struggling to regain the trust of the school board members and the parents of her pupils for taking her class on an unauthorized field trip to a nearby Civil War battlefield. She’s put on probation, and one wrong step could cost her the position permanently.
Joshua Esh of Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, moved to Missouri ostensibly as part of the man swap meant to bring new blood into the community. Annie Beiler caught his attention the moment he arrived in Seymour, but he’s disheartened to discover that she is promised to another man–Luke, who left the Amish but vowed to return one day and claim “his” Annie. So, Josh fills his social calendar with singings and frolics, taking a different girl home from every event–with the exception of Annie, since she is already committed to someone.
When Luke comes home, Annie pushes him away, and Josh Esh comes to her rescue. But the situation becomes awkward, since Josh is staying with Luke’s family. An awareness of each other’s attraction to Annie causes the awkwardness to escalate, and Annie’s father soon invites Josh to stay with his family. But not all of the Beilers are happy about this new arrangement.
Soon, a buggy accident ends in a shotgun wedding after the bishop witnesses a kiss between Josh and Annie and insists they get married right away. The two protest, but the bishop is adamant. He later tells them why: he’d overheard some talk about a scheme Luke was launching to force Annie to marry him.
Marriage brings some dark secrets to the surface, and Annie and Josh must confront their issues and deal with the past if they plan on a future together.
Product Details:
List Price: $10.99
Paperback: 304 pages
Publisher: Whitaker House (March 1, 2012)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1603742573
ISBN-13: 978-1603742573
ISLAND BREEZES
Joshua is the new boy in town and all the girls are a little sweet on him. It seems that he must be a player since he always takes a different girl home from the singings.
Every one except Annie Beiler, that is. Annie is the local school teacher who’s beau “jumped the fence” into the world of the Englisch.
Luke comes back to the community and wants to reclaim Annie. It’s not as easy as he thought it would be. To complicate matters, Joshua has also fallen for the lovely Annie.
Annie is forced to make a commitment in a hurry. You all already know I’m not going to tell you who she chooses. There is a bit of a surprise near the end. Happy reading.
AND NOW…THE FIRST CHAPTER:
It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old…or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!
You never know when I might play a wild card on you!
and
***Special thanks to
Karri James of Harvest House Publishers for sending me a review copy.***
Robin Marsh is an Emmy nominated and national award-winning journalist. She anchors the weekday morning newscast at KWTV-News9, the CBS affiliate in Oklahoma City. Robin uses her influence from television as a way to share with women and girls about the love of Jesus at retreats for women, students, and churches. She was honored as a “Woman of Distinction” by Girl Scouts of the USA.
Visit the author’s website.
Lauren Nelson was crowned Miss America 2007. She received the prestigious TOYA award (Ten Outstanding Young Americans) by the United States Junior Chamber Organization in 2008. Lauren serves many charities including Children’s Miracle Network. She is a co-anchor at KWTV-News9, the CBS affiliate in Oklahoma City. Lauren loves teaching Bible studies and leading worship with her husband.
Visit the author’s website.
Miss America 2007, Lauren Nelson, and award-winning TV news anchor Robin Marsh share a passion to encourage teen girls. In this relevant, engaging devotional they show the cell phone generation of girls why accepting God’s call is the best decision they’ll ever make.
Each devotion includes a question in teen lingo, God’s “text response” from Scripture, insightful reflections, and a daily spiritual app to help girls relate biblical wisdom to everyday needs as they explore:
A cleverly presented, timely look at God’s help for the needs young women face today. Perfect for individual faith growth and as group discussion and study material.
Product Details:
List Price: $11.99
Paperback: 176 pages
Publisher: Harvest House Publishers (February 1, 2012)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0736945210
ISBN-13: 978-0736945219
ISLAND BREEZES
God. Identity. Relationships. Life. These are the makings of a devotional guide for girls written as text messages from God.
The authors are two women who appear to have it all. A TV news anchor and Miss America 2007. They have written this book from the heart to focus on the inner person.
Each one of the personal devotions begins with a girl’s question and ends with an appropriate app. Better than any app you might have on your phone.
AND NOW…THE FIRST CHAPTER:
Heart’s Safe Passage
By Laurie Alice Eakes
Laurie Alice Eakes writes a stirring tale of love, intrigue, and adventure on the high seas. In book 2 of The Midwives series, you will feel the salt spray and the rolling waves as you make the journey with these vivid characters on the treacherous path toward redemption.
It’s 1813 and all Phoebe Lee wants out of life is to practice midwifery in Loudon County, Virginia. When Belinda, her pregnant sister-in-law, presses Phoebe to accompany her onto a British privateer in order to cross the Atlantic and save her husband from an English prison, Phoebe tries to refuse, then finds herself kidnapped.
Captain Rafe Docherty is a man in search of revenge. His ship is no place for women, but he needs Belinda in order to obtain information about the man who destroyed his family and his life. Between Belinda’s whining and Phoebe’s hostility, Rafe can’t help but wonder if he made the right choice.
When it becomes apparent there is an enemy among them on the ship, the stakes are raised. Will they reach the shores of England in time? Can love and forgiveness overcome vengeance?
ISLAND BREEZES
How rude! All Phoebe Lee wanted was to practice midwifery in peace, but her sister-in-law had different plans. Belinda had her kidnapped and taken aboard a privateer’s ship. British, no less. That could get a person arrested for treason during the War of 1812, but the captain had promised Belinda that he would help free her husband from a British prison.
But there’s a lot of secrets onboard that ship. Belinda lied about her pregnancy. There’s a young boy who isn’t plus major secrets from both Phoebe’s and the captain’s past as well as that of others.
Captain Rafe and Phoebe start falling in love, but both fight it. Their past lives present seemingly insurmountable obstacles. The secrets keep coming out right up through the end.
***A special thank you to Donna Hausler for a review copy.***
Laurie Alice Eakes is the author of Lady in the Mist, A Necessary Deception, and several other novels. She won a National Readers Choice Award for Best Regency in 2007 for Family Guardian. Laurie Alice writes full-time from her home in Texas, where she lives with her husband and sundry dogs and cats.
Revell, a division of Baker Publishing Group, offers practical books that bring the Christian faith to everyday life.? They publish resources from a variety of well-known brands and authors, including their partnership with MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers) and Hungry Planet.
Available February 2012 at your favorite bookseller from Revell, a division of Baker Publishing Group.
It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old…or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!
You never know when I might play a wild card on you!
***Special thanks to Karri | Marketing Assistant | Harvest House Publishers for sending me a review copy.***
Jay Payleitner is one of the top freelance Christian radio producers in the United States. He has worked on Josh McDowell Radio, Today’s Father, Jesus Freaks Radio for The Voice of the Martyrs, Project Angel Tree with Chuck Colson, and many others. He’s also a popular speaker at men’s events and the author of the bestselling 52 Things Kids Need from a Dad, 365 Ways to Say “I Love You” to Your Kids and, releasing late 2011, 52 Things Wives Need from a Husband. He has also served as an AWANA director, a wrestling coach, and executive director of the Illinois Fatherhood Initiative. Jay and his wife, Rita, make their home in the Chicago area, where they’ve raised five great kids and loved on ten foster babies.
Visit the author’s website.
For the husband who wants to live out God’s plan for his marriage, 52 Things Wives Need from Their Husbands provides a full year’s worth of advice that will put him on the right track without making him feel guilty or criticizing him for acting like a man. A great gift or men’s group resource.
Product Details:
List Price: $12.99
Paperback: 176 pages
Publisher: Harvest House Publishers (February 1, 2012)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0736944710
ISBN-13: 978-0736944717
ISLAND BREEZES
52 things. 52 weeks a year. See, guys. It won’t be so hard to renew and strengthen your realationship in a year. You’re probably already doing some of these things.
This book is written by a man, but he get it. It could be that his being married for more than 30 years has something to do with it.
This book makes sense. I know that every one of these 52 things are things that would make me feel loved and cherished.
A husband and wife are driving down a country road. They’re a few years older than you are now. He’s behind the wheel. The pavement and cornfields are passing by. She breaks the silence with a sigh and says, “Remember when we were younger and we used to sit right next to each other in the car?” “I remember,” the husband replies after a moment. “But you know, I haven’t moved.”
“Love is as strong as death, its jealousy unyielding as the grave. It burns like blazing fire, like a mighty flame. Many waters cannot quench love; rivers cannot sweep it away.”
Then he said to them, “The sabbath was made for humankind, and not humankind for the sabbath;
so the Son of Man is lord even of the sabbath.”
Mark 2:27,28
It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old…or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!
You never know when I might play a wild card on you!
Anna Patricio is a lover of ancient history, with a particular interest in Egypt, Israel, Greece, and Rome. She is also intrigued by the Ancient Near East, though she has not delved too much into it but hopes to one day.
She undertook formal studies in Ancient History at Macquarie University. She focused mostly on Egyptology and Jewish-Christian Studies, alongside a couple of Greco-Roman units, and one on Archaeology. Though she knew there were very limited job openings for ancient history graduates, she pursued her degree anyway as it was something she had always been passionate about.
Then, about a year after her graduation, the idea to tackle historical fiction appeared in her head, and she began happily pounding away on her laptop. ASENATH is her first novel.
Recently, she traveled to Lower Egypt (specifically Cairo and the Sinai), Israel, and Jordan. She plans to return to Egypt soon, and see more of it. In the past, she has also been to Athens and Rome.
Anna is currently working on a second novel, which still takes place in Ancient Egypt, but hundreds of years after ASENATH.
Visit the author’s website.
Two Destinies…One Journey of Love
In a humble fishing village on the shores of the Nile lives Asenath, a fisherman’s daughter who has everything she could want. Until her perfect world is shattered.
When a warring jungle tribe ransacks the village and kidnaps her, separating her from her parents, she is forced to live as a slave. And she begins a journey that will culminate in the meeting of a handsome and kind steward named Joseph.
Like her, Joseph was taken away from his home, and it is in him that Asenath comes to find solace…and love. But just as they are beginning to form a bond, Joseph is betrayed by his master’s wife and thrown into prison.
Is Asenath doomed to a lifetime of losing everything and everyone she loves?
Product Details:
List Price: $13.99
Paperback: 222 pages
Publisher: Imajin Books (September 24, 2011)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1926997263
ISBN-13: 978-1926997261
ISLAND BREEZES
We know about Joseph being sold into slavery by his brothers, the thing with Potiphar’s wife, dreams, the job as Pharaoh’s right hand man and his brothers coming to buy food during the famine. We know he had a couple sons, because they were introduced to his brothers during the big reunion bash.
But did you ever really think about his life and his wife? I didn’t before reading this book. I love this kind of
book, because they’re like the story behind the story. We get an idea of what the life of a Biblical character might have really been like.
World’s biggest loser. That’s how Asenath must have felt at times. She’s had a lot trauma and drama in her life. Kidnapped, orphaned and then a slave. But it hasn’t all been bad. In the end she married the love of her life. This book takes us on the journey of her life and love. It’s a rocky ride at times, but she’s a strong woman.
AND NOW…THE FIRST CHAPTER:
Egypt 1554 B.C.
The Nile had just flooded, leaving the ground moist, rich and black. The children of our riverside village, I among them, frolicked about in the cool, gooey earth. In the distance, the ancient river circled the land, glittering with a thousand tiny dancing lights from the sun-god’s Boat of a Million Years. A breeze blew, rustling the branches of the palm trees that surrounded our home.
“Kiya!”
No sooner had I looked than a mud ball pelted me hard across the stomach.
“I’ll get you for that, Menah.” I bent down to gather mud in my hands when another ball landed on my back. He was a quick one, my best friend.
I had just formed a mud ball and was about to raise my arm when Menah suddenly charged forward and pounced on me.
“Now you’ll get the tickle torture,” he said in a mock evil voice.
“No, Menah. Please, no.” But I was overcome by uncontrollable laughter.
“Menah! Kiya!” voices called out, interrupting our playful wrestling.
Our mothers approached.
“Come out now,” my mother called. “It is time to prepare for the Feast of Hapi.”
Covered in mud from head to toe, Menah and I scrambled toward them.
Mama shook her head, smiling. “You’re such a mess.”
She led me back to our hut.
“What is going to happen tonight, Mama?” I asked. “I mean, after we pray to Hapi? Will there be games?”
Mama’s blue eyes twinkled against her brown skin. “I see no reason why there shouldn’t be.”
“And lots of food?”
“All the food you could ever want.”
“May I wear my lotus necklace today?”
Years ago, when I was very young, Mama had given me a beautiful carved lapis lazuli lotus pendant strung on a simple piece of coarse rope. She told me it had been in her family for many generations and that her grandmother had received it from Hapi himself.
She ruffled my hair. “Of course. Today is, after all, a special day.”
As we entered our mud hut, which had been my home since birth, I saw my father mending one of his fisherman’s nets. When he saw me, he pretended to cower in fear.
“A mud monster has entered our house.”
I laughed. “It’s just me, Papa.”
He leaned forward and squinted, as if trying to get a good look, though the gesture was comically exaggerated. “Is it? Let me see. Ah yes, it’s my little Kiya.”
He leapt to his feet, picked me up and swung me around, ignoring the mud that soiled his hands. I squealed with delight.
“Nakhti,” Mama said. “I have to get her ready.”
“Yes.” Papa set me down. He gave me a gentle slap across the back, motioning for me to return to Mama.
“I get to wear the lotus today, Papa.”
He smiled. “I am sure you will look very pretty.”
Later that afternoon, four priests from a nearby town passed by our village. They shouldered on poles our patron god’s idol, which nestled upon a bed of water lilies. A ray of sunlight bounced off the golden image and it flashed with brilliance. Behind the god was a small train of dancing priestesses. They rattled sistrums and twirled around, their white dresses billowing out like clouds.
My fellow villagers and I were assembled outside our village, awaiting the god’s arrival. When he appeared, we fell to our knees and touched our foreheads to the sandy ground.
“Glorious Hapi,” my father intoned. “We thank you for once again allowing your water to flow and give life. We thank you for nourishing our land and our people. We pray your sacred pitchers never cease to flow. We thank you, great god of the Nile.”
My heart swelled with pride. Papa was the most renowned fisherman in our village. Though he was quite an old man – many years older than my mother – he possessed skills and strength that surpassed even those of the younger generations. Everyone thus hailed him as the favoured of the river god.
“Praise be to you, Hapi,” I echoed along with the rest of my fellow villagers.
As the idol trailed away, we rose to our feet and gathered up the amulets and flowers, which we would be tossing into the Nile as offerings. It was sunset now and sheer red-orange skies cast a fiery glow upon the river’s rippling surface. From a distance, we heard the warbling of river fowl and the screeching of monkeys.
We approached the riverbank. It was still soft and muddy from the inundation. We tossed our offerings in. All the while, Papa chanted hymns of praise. Afterward, we returned to the village for what we children had been anticipating the most – the games.
A kind, respectable widow named Mekten, whom everyone called “Village Mother”, held a game called the “statue dance.” She played a reed flute while we danced and would stop at random moments without warning. We had to freeze as soon as the music stopped. Those who were still dancing were out of the game.
My friends and I loved it so much that Mekten held several rounds of it. Unfortunately, I always lost, as I always got so caught up in the liveliness of the game. However, she awarded me a small spinning top as a prize for being the best dancer.
I danced so much that I could barely keep my eyes open as we later sat down to the feast. Papa picked me up and carried me back to our hut. I was too tired to protest. As soon as he lay me down, I fell into a deep sleep.
That night, I dreamt I was on a great winged barque sailing along the Nile. It was a bright day, with the white-golden Egyptian sun shining gloriously and flocks of ibises and herons gleaming against the clear blue sky. A group of friendly monkeys, like those who usually wandered near my family’s hut, kept me company on the deck, entertaining me with their hilarious antics.
Suddenly, the skies darkened and the water began to thrash against the barque. The monkeys leapt up and down, screeching frantically. I grabbed onto the rail.
Thunder rumbled. Fierce white waves threatened to haul us overboard. The barque tipped to a dangerous level and I began to scream.
Waking, I placed my hand over my heart, which was pounding fiercely. I was about to heave a sigh of relief when I heard the rumbling from my dream. I sat up, my chest constricting in fear once more. The noise sounded like it was coming from outside our hut.
The rumbling stopped.
I heard a strange voice shouting in a language I could not understand.
My father appeared beside me. In the dim light, I could see the outline of his bony profile as he knelt by my side.
“What’s that noise, Papa?”
He put his arms around me and before he could answer, a chilling scream sliced through the air. Other screams followed. Soon, the air was filled with a frightening cacophony – screams, cries and more shouts in that strange language.
Papa’s grip on me tightened. “Come, Kiya. We must hide you.”
The door of our hut flew open.
Two enormous, fearsome-looking warriors towered like the tallest trees. Their faces were thickly painted in bright, garish colours. They wore loincloths made of animal skin and peculiar pointed headdresses that emphasised their unusual height. In their hands were spears that glinted threateningly.
Mama screamed.
One of the warriors shouted something, while waving toward us. Another dashed forward and snatched me out of Papa’s protective hold.
“Papa!”
The monster hauled me outside.
I kicked and flailed. “Papa!”
“Kiya!” Papa hurried after me.
Alas, though he was strong and agile, he was no match for these giants. They ran with such enormous strides that in no time he was out of sight.
“Papa?” I writhed about in the warrior’s iron grip. “Papa!”
I felt a blow to the back of my head and the world turned black.
Cold water slapped my face. When I opened my eyes, I was staring into the massive painted face of my captor.
“Get up,” he snarled. His breath was fouler than rotten fish.
I struggled to my feet. Though I was still in a daze, I dared not disobey.
The warrior grabbed my arm and led me through pitch-black darkness. I was certain he was going to kill me. My chest tightened with fear.
He led me out into a brightly lit clearing. It looked like we were in the midst of a dense jungle. A campfire crackled at the centre where the warrior’s comrades sat feasting and talking.
Relief washed over me when I noticed my fellow villagers huddled together at the far end. Menah was with them.
I smiled. “Menah!”
The warrior slapped me hard across the face. “You are not to speak. If you do so again, we will kill you.”
I shuddered, though I was less frightened than before now that I knew I was not alone.
The warrior dragged me over to the villagers and shoved me amongst them. “Stay with them. No talking and no trying to escape.” He glared at us, then went to the fire to join the others.
Menah took my hand.
“Where are my parents?” I asked in a bare whisper.
He looked at me sadly and shook his head.
I knew what that meant. They were not there.
I suddenly threw up.
In a flash, the warrior was before us. “What’s going on here?”
No one answered.
“She felt sick and vomited,” our village mother Mekten said finally.
The warrior turned to his comrades and said something in their language. They laughed boisterously. He shook his head and returned to them.
Tears spilled from my eyes. Menah held me and rocked me, comforting me. I sobbed for a long time, eventually crying myself to sleep.
What followed was an arduous journey through the jungle. The scorching sun was merciless and mosquitoes bit my arms, legs and face. The entire time, our captors threatened to murder us and I might have actually died with despair had it not been for the familiar faces around me.
I do not know how far we travelled, but just as I thought we would perish, one of the warriors announced we had reached our destination.
It was early evening. We were led toward a tribal encampment illuminated by a towering bonfire. Drumbeats pounded in my ears as we drew nearer. When we entered the camp, I saw tents made of dyed animal hides, as well as poles topped with the decapitated heads of people and animals. I averted my eyes, trying to erase the horrific images from my head.
The drums were deafening as the tribespeople surrounded us. Like our captors, they were wrapped in animal skins. Their bodies were pierced in just about every part and painted in bright colours. I shuddered when a small child with painted teeth and a pierced nose came over and poked at my face.
My fellow villagers and I were lined up in front of the bonfire. I thought for sure they would murder us. I whimpered as one of the warriors strode up to us. I recognised him. He had entered my family’s hut.
The warrior paced the length of our row. “Do you know why you are all here?”
No one answered.
He glared at us. “Many years ago, your Pharaoh murdered our chieftain. I am that chieftain’s son and will now avenge my father’s death. Until your king makes amends, we will continue to destroy your wretched country. If he does not, we will fight until Egypt is no more.”
As he reached me, he stopped pacing and smiled, revealing crooked yellow teeth. “What is your name, little girl?” His voice was gentle.
“K-Kiya,” I squeaked.
“What a beautiful girl you are. Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?”
I did not answer.
“How old are you?”
“Nine.”
“Ah. Perfect.” His hideous grin widened. “You will be my slave, Kiya. And when your red moon comes, you will become my bride.”
I stared at him, too horrified to speak.
He stepped forward. “That flower around your neck goes very well with your lovely face.” He fingered the lotus pendant and I pulled back.
“Where are my parents?” I blurted.
“We left them behind, little one. We have no use for them.” He laughed cruelly.
My fear was replaced by rage. “I want my parents. Bring me back to my parents.”
One of the warriors rushed toward me, but the chieftain held up his hand. He stared into space for a moment. “Very well. If you work hard, I will send for your parents by the time you and I are ready to marry.”
My anger began to abate. “You mean that?” I looked into his dark eyes, which were surrounded by a strange painted pattern of dots.
“Yes. So what do you say, little Kiya? Are you going to work hard?”
I hated that he called me “little Kiya.” It sounded like he was trying to replace Papa. But I knew that if I wanted to see my parents again, I had to be obedient and silent.
I nodded.
“Good,” he said, turning away.
“What is a red moon?” I asked.
Some of my fellow villagers stared at me, aghast, while the tribespeople roared with laughter.
The chieftain approached Mekten. “Be Kiya’s advisor and explain to her what a red moon is. I am sure you know full well.” He winked at her.
I felt sick at that gesture, even though I did not understand what it meant.
Mekten nodded in submission.
The chieftain waved his arm, inviting his people to pick slaves from among us.
A tall, thin woman with large bone earrings and a cold expression led Mekten and I to the chieftain’s large tent. When we stepped inside, I nearly screamed. The place was festooned with more disembodied animal heads, as well as enormous wooden masks with frightening expressions. The dim light from torches cast shadows on the eerie things, making them look almost alive.
The tribeswoman pointed to a dirty mat at the far end of the tent. “You will sleep there. Go now.” Mekten and I headed for the mat, but the tribeswoman grabbed Mekten’s arm. “Not you. You will stay here.”
I stared at them, confused, and the woman glared at me. “Go!”
I hurried over to the mat as the tribeswoman extinguished the torch, plunging the tent into complete darkness.
All was silent. Then the tent’s flap rose, revealing the bulky profile of the chieftain. He shuffled inside and the flap swung closed.
Not long after, I heard Mekten crying out in fear and pain. Heavy breathing followed. The louder Mekten screamed, the heavier the breathing grew.
Though I had no idea what was happening, I knew I was hearing something bad. I covered my ears, but it was no use. Similar screams rose from the neighbouring tents. I slept amongst nightmares, waking at times to the sound of terrified cries and heartbreaking sobbing.
The following morning, Mekten acted scared of everything and everyone, which wasn’t like her. I wanted to make her feel better, but I didn’t know how. Even the most trivial things I did frightened her.
Throughout the day, I kept a distance from her. But at times, I tried to reach out to her. She was, after all, one of our dearest family friends.
“Mekten,” I said in a timid voice. “What is a red moon?”
Mekten looked at me with sad eyes. Finally, she took a deep breath and explained everything in a shaky voice before breaking down.
1st United States President – 1789 – 1797
It’s the anniversary of your birth. I know that your birth was celebrated two days ago when you were lumped in with all the rest on President’s Day, but a lot of those guys didn’t give us too much to celebrate.
I’m proud to have you as one of our founding fathers here in the U.S. You were brave and fought hard so that men could be free here in your great country.
I’m afraid that I have to tell you that you wouldn’t recognize much of the government here now. It’s gone so far away from those principles you and the other great men set down in our constitution. It’s sad, but most of the people here don’t really know what’s in the constitution.
Actually, a bunch of these people don’t care what’s in it. They want to just ride roughshod over it. A lot of our politicians really want to pretend that we don’t even have a constitution. All they want to do is get elected and flaunt their power.
After all, they need only to be elected to one term, and then they get paid for the rest of their life. This certainly isn’t like it was back in your day when you refused to stay in office more than two terms. You could have stayed for life (like big brother wants to do), but you had to be persuaded to stay for a second term.
I’m sure you would be sad, too, if you could only see what’s happened here. This is no longer the land of the free and home of the brave.
