An Unspoken Truth
Published By Jessica Gold
Copyright 2012 Jessica Gold
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We marched for nearly an hour through the thick underbrush of the forest. The ground, uneven beneath our feet, caused many of us to stumble and reach out in a sort of dance-like way—limb seeking limb to steady ourselves. We were forcibly thrust into our pre-dawn journey with little warning, and much trepidation. Only when the rays of sun began peeking through the trees, did I realize that I was clutching a swaddled Miriam, and that I was barefoot.
It was late August, a seasonally warm time, but in the early hour, the dew chilled my feet—feet that only yesterday danced at my sister Rutka’s wedding. A beautiful and excited bride, Rutka was two years younger than me. She had met Yaacov at the tender age of five, in our mother’s vegetable garden. An unsuspecting Rutka received a blow to the back of the head from an auspiciously airborne carrot. The seven year old Yaacov, desperate to play the role of knight in shining armour, swooped in to pick her up. Rutka insisted it was the onions that made her cry. Yaacov explained that it was impossible for onions to work their magic while still in the ground—and it was in this moment that a relationship of possibility and protection was forged; a hesitant kiss on the cheek, a covenant, witnessed by rows of turnips and tomatoes.