mushrooms. The gifts were nice, but it was the stories for which I waited. He had a quiet, gentle
way of making ideas come alive, and story-time quickly became a favorite part of my day.
He possessed a wit and sense of humor that could make anyone laugh. Thursdays and Fridays
were Ditha’s favorite days. The more superstitious in our village made deliciously sweet dishes
and left them among the grove of olive trees to appease the “ghosts.” Ditha would sneak into the
grove and eat the food, causing the villagers to marvel that their offering had been accepted.
Each week they’d attack the practice with renewed faith and vigor. Ditha’s eyes would twinkle,
and I could hardly contain gales of laughter.
I soon came to know our Ditha as a man with a big, loyal heart and a smile, always at the ready.
He never repaid malice or coarse joking with anything but kindness. Though, he had no home of
his own and his clothes were ragged and worn, he was full of gratitude for the little he had. My
grandfather would have allowed Ditha to ride the sweet-tempered horse, and though he cherished
him, he would only ride his little grey donkey. He told me once that he was born to ride his
donkey, which seemed explanation enough. Ditha left lasting impression on my childhood
memories.
********
My cousins and I grew to be young men. Our grandparents died, and my eldest uncle became the
head of the village, but Ditha remained the same. His responsibilities increased, for he carried
even more jars of water on his frail shoulders. Uncle was very strict with Ditha and would often
beat him with an aspen broom.
Despite his hardship, Ditha was quick to turn around his life. The most prominent change was in
his clothes. Previously, his one set of garb went for months unwashed, then he started washing
his clothes every week. This new fastidiousness did not go unobserved long, nor did the
motivation around it.
Soon, it emerged that Ditha had gotten into a relationship with the beggar-woman! Hers was a
tenuous social position, a step below that of Ditha. The villagers fussed over the affair between
Ditha and his outcast object of desire.
"The donkey-boy is in love?" They wondered and curled their mouths.
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