“Why are you weeping?”  I said.

He turned his head slightly to look at me and then turned back to look into the night sky. He was seated on a log freshly cut down. “My children have been snatched away.  They are in grave danger.  Most of them I will never get back.”  He sighed deeply.  “I know each one of them by name.”  His voice was a whisper in the night air.

“What do you mean snatched away?  They were kidnapped?”

“In a way of speaking.”  His back was still turned toward me, the side of his face visible in the light of the full moon.

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