A DAZZING RAY
Clan of Or, drifters, walked by a field.
It was during a season of harvest. Fruits, tree, green, everything looks lovely, lively.
These two, a mother and a daughter, were laboring, toil and sweat, under a dazzling sun.
The daughter collects all the leftover, and here at the horizon, landlord stood there, witnessed all. Deeply touched and impressed, by that silhouette, shadow.
“Look up into the sky and count the stars if you can. That’s how many descendants you will have!”
A promise that remains through the ages.
Or, a dazzling ray, being faithful, forevermore.