It had been a restless night as her sleep was plagued with dreams of the city walls, and she was startled to find tears streaming down her face as she awoke. It bothered her greatly because she had learnt from the years of war not to ignore those dreams.
But there was no time to think about those dreams. The southern lands were still a long distance away and she had to keep going. She slowly crawled out of the tent and waited.
Finally, the critter appeared with the basket of fresh supplies for the next little bit of the journey. The critter was not one to follow a regular schedule, but she had come to learn that each time her supplies got low, he would be there.
He lingered longer than usual that morning, casting a questioning look every once in a while, but not saying a word.
"What is it?" she finally asked.
"I don't get it. Why did you leave? Sure, nobody likes war, but there still was a place for you in the city, and there was certainty. All the years you gave to the wall restoration efforts would have equipped you well to lead others in that cause. Why didn't you wait a little longer, train up a few others before you go? Besides, the road to the south is rife with uncertainty. Wouldn't it be better to go with a little more support from the city?"
She looked straight past him as her mind went back to the dreams that had plagued her while she lived in the city. She thought of the baby amongst her tribespeople that she got to hold just before her departure from the city--the same baby in the dreams that plagued her. There was too much to explain, and she didn't know where to begin. The southern lands had been a part of those dreams too, but she had spent so much time deliberately ignoring them while focusing on the restoration work that she had forgotten about them until they recently came back to haunt her.
Finally, she shook her head.
"Way has closed, Monchhichi," she said, recalling the words of the sages. "I don't understand it enough to tell you the story yet, but maybe someday that time will come. All I know is, way will open. I don't know when, where or how long it will take. But certainty has never been a part of my story--except for the certainty in the rocks that hold the stories of my people."
Her fingers found their way to those rocks again.
"Love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind."They had become the only guide for her journey. As she gathered up the last of her tent-pegs, she looked to the heavens and again whispered words of blessing and thanks for her mother and mothers, and her grandmother and grandmothers, for the sages, for her tribespeople, and for the critters.
"Love your neighbor as yourself."
Way will open. Until then, she will keep walking.
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