the spacious shed was more security than anyone might have dreamed possible for someone in his station.
It was said that his mother gave him the name“ Allah Ditha”, which means“ Given by God”, but people soon left off the“ Allah” and called him“ Ditha”. He was forgotten by God as well.
We lived in a small village at the foothills of the hot, dry Black Mountains. Only one ancient well provided water for the town; all of the houses crowded around it. Everybody knew how precious it was. Ditha worked hard for us. Each morning he drew water from the village well. His strong arms brought up bucketful after bucketful without ever seeming to tire.
He would take the animals out to graze, patiently leading the slow, scattered herd to the pastureland beyond the houses. Ditha remained with them all day long, ever-watchful for predators and danger, caring for them as his own children. After returning them to their pens at the end of the day, he would reappear in the village, riding on the slow, old donkey, his weathered face and wind-whipped clothes hanging on his thin frame. As he rode through the streets, the young boys taunted him for their own wicked pleasure.
“ Hey, Ditha," someone would shout.“ Your girlfriend, the ass, moves like you put her to better use today.”
“ No, don ' t say that!” someone else would shout.“ The donkey is really Ditha’ s sister! Can ' t you see the resemblance?”
Their laughter echoed down the street. Once, some young guy, not yet fifteen, took a small stone and threw it at Ditha. Whether Ditha’ s feelings were hurt by the ridicule of the villagers, he never said, and it took many years to cross my mind that it might have.
As I grew into a young boy, I began to watch Ditha a little more closely. Every evening, he made his way down the Black Mountains with his sluggish animals following him like a tattered line of withdrawing troops. I began to wait for him, standing at the big front door of our courtyard. He would appear with his animals accompanied by the sounds of chimes reminiscent of tragic music in an old film.
Then came the stories— oh, what wonderful stories they were, featuring wolves, lions, and other fantastic creatures! He began to bring me gifts— wild fruits, beautiful flowers, and tasty
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