Trembling, Yoseph leaned back against his father’s door and stared into the horizon. “Bring the blessing to your brother,” he commanded and thrust the small pouch into Anna’s hands. He then turned and wiped a large knuckle across his eyes.

As Anna took hold of the pouch, the shawl dropped once more from her cheeks.

Yoseph glanced down. He stared at her face as if he had not seen her in years. He noticed how much older she had become. How her features had matured. He also noticed the increasingly masculine cast that tainted her appearance. She was not unattractive, that he could see, but she clearly lacked the delicate grace of other girls. His heart sank as a new realization struck him.

How would he ever be able to marry her off? Who would want such a hard young woman for their son?

Was he therefore to be burdened with her for the rest of his life?

But he barely possessed the means to feed and clothe her now!

Agitated by these thoughts, he dropped his gaze further. To his daughter’s sprouting frame. And the budding strength in her build. His eyes narrowed. Something about the breadth in her shoulders, and the confident way she carried herself aloft, struck him as a challenge. As a threat to his own sense of worth and manhood.

Must everything he created be somehow deformed? Was he not even man enough to produce a gentle daughter?

Still reeling from his father’s condemnation, Yoseph grabbed his daughter and dragged her to him. Handling her roughly, he squashed her body against his.

“Father, please! That hurts!” a surprised Anna cried out.

With all his strength, he yanked up her shawl and wound it tight about her face until she could barely breathe.

Gasping for air, Anna turned and ran.

“Speak to no one!” he shouted after her.

Anna arrived at her brother’s grave shaky and troubled. She could not understand what she had done to bring on her father’s wrath. She dropped to a rock to catch her breath.

Thinking back, she could not pretend that she had not noticed a change in the way he looked at her. Whereas before her father’s gaze had almost seemed to pass through her, now when he watched her removing his sandals or fetching his tea, his eyes were laced with disappointment. As though she had failed him. Terribly. And this look of despondency brought more pain to her heart than his anger ever could.

Yet she had no idea what she had done! Nor what she could do to make things right.

A sudden flapping interrupted Anna’s thoughts. She looked up to see the gray blur of a mourning dove landing on a nearby rock. Remembering that Zahra had said doves traveled in pairs, she scanned the sky for the bird’s mate. But none appeared. The bird was alone.