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Mundabor's Blog

I am not a mother (neither a woman, come to that), so I can’t really tell.

Still, I can imagine. I can imagine that I am a mother in the bliss of newly found maternity, a joy without equals.

But then I imagine that when the child is just a few days old, I am informed by a very reliable person that this child is going to undergo great suffering and a painful death. How would it feel? A short time later, I must leave my home in the middle of the night, precipitously fleeing those who want to murder the child. Some years of relative tranquillity go by (during which, though, I have never forgotten the fateful words of Simeon) and one day, I discover that through a misunderstanding my twelve years old child is missing, somewhere in a great city far away from me. Then I return to…

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