It is often at this time in the early morning that I find my mind is at its freshest. I have just returned from down the

road where I have delivered a healthy child, a strong baby girl. The next few weeks will be hard and determine all for the

child. So many times I have watched a child tha I bring into the world simply slip away. Many of them pass away in the

deepest of the night, their breath simply stolen away from them, stolen by the spirits. The mother was working on a

protective amulet to hang above the child's sleeping space, but the father seems quite unconcerned. I feel that if it had

been a boy, he would be paying more attention to the family. I understand his frustration, however, for this was his third

girl child. The birth was hard on his wife, in fact it should be her last, but I do not believe he will let her rest without

producing a boy for him to pass along his meager wealth and business.

I understand his need for a son. Nasor has has been such a comfort for me, especially since his father died last

spring. I should prepare his morning meal shortly, as well as neaten the store. I worry about him often. He is afraid he

will have to close down the shop, and sees that as a betrayal to his father. Although the spices sell well, I have seen the

ledger and know he is not doing well. The traders have been traveling to other shops more along their route so as not to

stress their camels, and other shops in town have been able to trade more cheaply. He often chastizes me for not

requesting money in exchange for the services that I provide for the townswomen. I realize that it would bring up our

social status quite consederably, but I cannot allow myself to ask for anything. I do accept any gifts the grateful families

offer me, usually chickens or rugs or other goods. One family, so proud of their first son, promised to put my face on my

tombstone, a luxury I never thought would be mine. But I simply could not ask to be compensated. I do this because I

know he pain of losing a child, of not being able to give birth again. I could not want anything more than to know that a

mother will hold her infant, watch it grow, and that I helped bring that child into the family.

But my mind wanders. I must make Nasor his morning meal and prepare for the rest of the day. Perhaps later I

will find time to rest. I am so very tired.

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Last updated December 11, 1997