T he young mother stirred from sleep softly, as if to touch the day with velvet. Noise outside. Horses. Chariots. Shouted commands. Soldiers. The door to their home succumbed to relentless pounding with a loud crash. Her husband’s terrified eyes snapped open. Cold military professionalism; eyes of steel matched that of the steel drawn in his hand. Father sits erect in his bed. Soldier’s eyes searching. Father eyes fearing, glancing first at his wife, and then at the sleeping form of his infant son. Soldier’s eyes following father’s fear. Bronzed, powerful hand takes hold of infant blanket and pulls. Naked child rolls to the floor, exposing male genitals. He awakes in whimpering infant wail, becoming bloody gurgles as pointed steel is shoved through his heart. Mother screams are heard in this house and throughout the dwellings of Bethlehem.

"A voice was heard in Ramah,
weeping and great mourning,
Rachel weeping for her children;
and she refused to be comforted,
because they were no more."

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