Beatrice

The mountains here are full of trails. Steep ones winding up and down the deep ravines. Today I walk to a high mountain behind our house. The deep ravines go down in a half circle around me. Soon Beatrice comes to me and sits beside. She is a Fre Julian's daughter eight years old maybe. She holds my hand and pinches my white skin and touches my arm. Just as much as I love touching her hair she loves touching mine. She has dirty clothes on and dirty shoes, soaked with dirty water and mud from the rain that just came. But here this is not a problem. Nobody looks at her with disdain or thinks her dirty clothes are anything but normal. Her mama will do laundry later this week and maybe her only clothes will be very clean. Beatrice's Sunday clothes will be quite the opposite of these. A crisp clean dress. With floufy socks and ribbons in her hair. Sunday is a very special day. Beatrice talks to me today and asks me if I would want to see her goats. We wander a little down the mountain side. I tell her I hope we don't stomp over too many gardens and plants. The goat is tied up on a rock and beside it two little kids are hanging around. They like their mama and so they do not run away. Beatrice catches the little brown goat for me and I hold it and pet it's soft fur. It's new I can tell. We walk back home and she tells me she is hungry...but I tell her to go see if her mama has food. I say goodbye to my friend. She walks away but I do not know if she will eat tonight or not. Makes me wish I could fix her troubles and everybody else's. But she is growing up in a Christian home and that's more than a lot can say.