Negev Desert
The air was cool inside the cave, which for the most part lay in shadows. Halimeh would do the washing of dishes when the sun’s rays reached the floor of the cave, otherwise the cold temperature would numb her fingers. She used water from five-gallon containers she would lug from a nearby spring. This water was needed for bathing, cooking, and drinking, as well as for doing the cleaning and other household chores.
Like chicks to her mother hen, Zaphira and Katiria, her young daughters, stayed always by her side. Though still small children, they were big enough now to handle pots and pans, but not yet strong enough to carry water for great distances. This would come later.
Though poor and destitute, Halimeh was content because in heart and mind she knew that God would provide. God had provided Yamil–a strong husband, a fearless fighter and mountain rebel–and her two healthy children. God also provided food, clothing, and the cave roof over their heads.
So when the news came, she was stoic. Fierce fighting had erupted in the mountain pass, and she knew Yamil had gone there to defend it. Yamil had been injured, she was told–seriously injured, and might die from the severity of his wounds.
Halimeh accepted this as God’s will. She prayed for her husband not too suffer too much, hero that he was. She prayed for herself, a probable widow now. She also prayed for Zaphira and Katiria, who no doubt would grow up fatherless, much as had happenedto her. She prayed, and a single tear stained her sun-bronzed cheek as she continued the washing of dishes and the day’s chores…
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