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    @eitan (:

    Six year old Chena Batjehoshaphat laughed as she and her two brothers chased a plump frog.

    “Hurry! Hurry! Before he reaches the stream!” Nine-year-old Malachi rushed ahead, shoving his little sister aside.

    Far behind them Levi, his chin only reaching a finger over the tall grass began to cry. Chena glanced back, her shoulders lowering, but the urge to catch the frog before her elder brother was strong. Malachi grinned, and lunged, sliding into mud as his hands closed on the smooth body of the reptile.

    Just when Chena was about to growl in fury the thing slipped from the boy’s grasp and plopped into the stream at the edge of their farm.

    She resisted the urge to mock him or gloat. Instead, she turned with a lifted chin, and marched back to Levi. Hugging the toddler to her chest, “Don’t worry, you’re not alone.”

    His grubby hands touched Chena’s face, “I want mommy Keena!”

    His sister nodded, and then glanced back with narrowed eyes on their brother. Malachi had risen. His tunic was caked with mud, and he swiped mud off his arms with a curled nose as he stepped toward them. His feet slid around in his gooey sandals.

    “We can’t go back until Malachi gets clean. If mama saw him like that?” Chena’s own nose crinkled, and Malachi paused to stare at them, lips parting, and eyes widening slightly.

    Then he lifted his chin, and pointed at Chena’s face, “You don’t look too good yourself. Wait till mama sees the tear in your skirt.”

    Chena looked away as his mouth lectured her. But it was short.

    “We need to beat daddy home.” She whispered, then pushed to her feet. The sister then held down her soft hand for Levi to clasp.

    The little boy complied, and with Malachi stalking behind they pushed through the grass. It didn’t take long for Malachi to start babbling again. “Do you think we can talk papa into going into town tomorrow?”

    “You just want to see Ruben.” Chena brushed her long sweaty locks out of her face, and glanced back to him.

    Malachi’s shoulders slumped, and then he ran to where he and Chena walked beside each other. “You like Rachel, do you not?”

    Chena smiled weakly while helping Levi’s little feet over a large rock. “Yes, but I like home more.”

    Malachi just smiled and stared off in the distance where their single-roomed house let out a tendril of smoke. “Race you.”

    Chena’s jaw tightened, and her eyes grew serious. “No!” Her sharp tone stopped him in his tracks. She cocked her hip, placing the hand that wasn’t clutching Levi’s on her waist, “We can’t leave him again.”

    “Hmm,” He nodded, opening his mouth to say something, before clamping it shut, and keeping it that way.

    Good. Chena sighed and looked about. The sun was just lowering on the horizon. Spirals of purples, and pinks flaking out. A subtle smile spread over her face. Papa called it Eloha’s painting. He would make a new one every morning and evening. Every one beautiful and a testament to His grandeur.

    On their entrance to home Jaden jumped to her feet, and pointed to the door, “Malachi ben Jehosaphat, you know better than to come in here like that. Go wash yourself now. Chena,” The woman’s voice was hard, but not mean. “Go clean up Levi, and,” Her head cocked, and the mother shook her head. “Milk the goats, then come in here. You can sew up your dress tomorrow.”

    “Yes mam.” The children instantly moved to obey.

    “Oh! and Malachi?” The youth turned about, “When you’re done washing, please bring me some water,” He nodded.

    Levi squealed when Chena began cleaning his little arms and legs, then became silent as Malachi chattered. The toddler’s brown eyes wide as he surveyed the elder boy, he then laughed, and began chattering as well. Chena just smiled, and finished her task.

    As she and Levi headed back to the home, her eyes caught on a form approaching. Tall, with broad shoulders, and an empty seed bag over his shoulder, her papa’s pace picked up when he saw people were out of the house.

    The six year old released her brother, and raced to her daddy. Malachi also forsook his washing, and charged to his papa.

    The man laughed, and lifted his young daughter in the air, twirling her once, before letting her sandaled feet touch the ground. Chena’s giggling as her father’s long black beard tickled her olive-toned face. Then he ruffled Malachi’s dark hair, and bent down.

    Then they all walked back to the house. When they reached Levi, Jehosaphat gave his youngest son the same greeting. The little child giving a peal of laughter as he was thrown into the air, then caught safely in his father’s callused, yet gentle hands.

    Mama then came out, wiping her hands on her apron. She smiled more with her eyes, than lips, but the joy flushing her cheeks was clear as her husband set their child on the ground and hugged her.

    She stood on her tip toes, for she was quite short and he tall, to kiss Jehoshaphat’s hairy cheek. “How was the planting?” She asked while taking the bag off his shoulder.

    “It was well,” He whispered before sucking a deep breath, and closing his eyes in delight, “What is that?”

    Mama looked down a second, her eyes sparkling like Eloha’s stars. “Leek soup, with chicken.” After a short pause she bent down and hefted her baby, “Why don’t you go make sure your son washes up?”

    As the father and son walked back to the well, Chena heard papa ask, “How did you get yourself so dirty?”

    Malachi grinned, “We were chasing a frog papa…”

    “And don’t forget the water Malachi!” Jaden called after the pair, and Chena smiled.

    “Wash your feet Bee,” The mother ordered while going back to their fire. A large pot was hung over it, boiling and steaming nicely as a hot bath.

    Chena sucked in a deep breath, then let it out with a slight groan of bliss as she obeyed.

    “Wait!” The mother turned around, “Sorry Bee, but Ruth and Naamah need to be milked,”

    Chena nodded, then fetched their pail fro a corner.

    The family enjoyed their night together. The food was good, and the boys didn’t speak of anything boring.

    Once on her pallet once more, Chena was tucked in tightly as a caterpillar by her mother. A soft kiss brushed her forehead, and whispered ‘I love you’s’ were exchanged. As the child fell into a peaceful sleep she had no thought of the marrow…and what it would bring. As it should be, for she was just a child.


    Love is the wisdom of the fool and the folly of the wise.

    Beth Darlene

    Hey Gracie,

    You might want to post this in a specific group like…the historical group or whatever. This space is for peeps to introduce themselves not post writing!

    Sorry not trying to be annoying just thought I’d let you know haha!

    Jominkreesa! For the weirdos who know what it means! 😉 I love you guys!



    No! I get it,.. I saw what I’d done right after posting but… I couldn’t figure out how to delete it?


    Love is the wisdom of the fool and the folly of the wise.


    You can’t. Tag this forum’s admin, and post the pre prologue in another thread.

    You don't need to see the wind itself in order to hear the rustling leaves.

    Beth Darlene


    Haha okay!

    Yeah what Eitan said!

    Jominkreesa! For the weirdos who know what it means! 😉 I love you guys!

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