Becoming One with The Wall

This week Pegman took us to the Great Wall of China. What a fascinating place! Thanks, K. Rawson, for leading us here.

A brave man, strong and wise, I was a soldier.

Thought to be a mere peasant, I am clever. Two years ago I was raising Emperor Qin Shihuang’s ninety-nine Silkie chickens. Not one died.

I was a stealer of bread. Who can blame me? My children were starving. Perhaps they are dead.

Bravest and cleverest of all, I am a rebel. Qin Shihuang shall not rule long, for the people shall unite to take back their lives.

A whip cracks, thoughts fly from the mind of every man digging sand, loading kilns, stoking fires, hauling bricks and stumbling. Each knows there is no hope of freedom here. No rest until death helps one’s soul become one with the wall.
So, they bend their backs and think a new thought, one they are told to remember each and every day.

You belong to the Son of Heaven. You are nothing.

 

Silkie Chickens – aren’t they cute?

Step on a crack – Broken Back

How could Emily have avoided the cracks? Even with the feet of a six year old the bricks were too close together.
“You’ll break your mother’s back,” Grandma had said. Did Emily want that? Sometimes – when she was very mad.
Had she made it happen? Maybe. She knew she’d purposely made Father angry.
Told him about the man Mother met for lunch.”They hugged, Daddy.”
He had roared and pushed Mother this way and that until she tumbled down the stairs.
Grandma came after the ambulance left. “Don’t cry, little one, your uncle is in town. He’ll watch over your mother.”