(Continued from yesterday)
The Brothers Reunited
At once Bara
turned his step towards the sound, for he wanted to find out who was so
filled with sorrow and wondered if he could help them in their pain.
Meanwhile the loving voices became stronger, and stronger. He knew then
that if he was truly going to help this poor wretch he must open his
eyes, and so he did. There before him was Bild, weeping by the side of
his mare, Mara.
Bara raced towards his brother, to embrace him and give
him all the love he could muster.
“I have found Shira”, said Bild, sadly.
Bara was puzzled. “Then if this is true why are you weeping? Why do you look so sad?”
Bild told him his story of how he had found Shira, but not in the race,
that Shira was with him, nearby but always just out of sight.
Bara caught his breath. “But that is just what I have found…” he cried,
and he looked around then for his guide, so that he could see his face
and thank him for guiding him to this place, for the trees were thinning
now and Bara could see the way clearly into the light. But there was
no guiding touch upon his shoulder; no gentle presence beside him.
There was no one there.
Bara understood then why Bild was weeping. His own heart was breaking
because he would never find the magical hiding place, and now even that
loving guiding presence was gone. The two brothers sat together at the
edge of the forest, with the mare grazing nearby, and silently grieved
for all their dreams: for the race that could never be; for the
unattainable Shira; for the elusive, magical place that would never be
found.
For a long time they grieved and tried to comfort one another. Then
their hearts lifted a little, for Tamba came towards them from out of
the forest. They took that as a sign to get going again and try to find
their way home. And so the two brothers mounted their horses, and set
off on the way out of the forest, along a well-worn path. Sometimes
Bild caught a glimpse of a golden mane, just out of sight, and when the
darkness fell Bild had a strong sense of the guiding touch but it faded
when he awoke. Bild too had known the soft touch in his dreams and they
both learned to recognise that this was Shira.
It was a long, long journey and they did not seem to be getting anywhere
that Bara could recognise on the map, despite his close and regular
scrutiny of every possible path and every sign of where they might be.
Bara scanned the horizon and thought as hard as he could, and Bild
summoned up all his strength to endure, but to no avail.
One day they were sitting by a lake when Bild had an idea.
“When you were lost in the forest and you walked with closed eyes, Shira guided you to the place where I was.”
Bara had not thought about it in quite that way before. He said; “I suppose that was Shira, guiding me….”
Bild went on, “And I often get a glimpse of his mane, just out of the
corner of my eye, but it seems as if I never manage to see him
properly,”
“That sounds as if he is hiding from you,” said Bara.
Bild turned to his brother. “But not from you,” he said.
Bara looked at Bild for a long time with his bright blue eyes shining
with hope. His quick mind wondered what all this could mean. Then he
knew, and his eyes darkened.
“He comes to me when my eyes are closed,” he said. “ When I am…blind.”
Bara had always had the gift of far- seeing, and had come to rely on
this. His long sight and quick mind made him brave and bold and
unafraid to venture into the darkest places where few other people dared
to go. At that moment he realised that to get home he must relinquish
his far sight and rely on the gentle touch of the unseen, wonderful
horse to guide him.
Bild had other ideas. If Shira came to Bara when his eyes were closed,
then Bild would be able to see him properly, close to, in all his
beauty! So Bild went and hid in the bushes, and waited for Shira to
come. They waited for a long time, until they were weary with waiting,
but the horse never came.
Then Bild said: “Maybe Shira is hiding from me now. He always seems to come when I least expect it."
“Yes,” said Bara. “Maybe you need to close your eyes too.”
And so they roped the horses together and they sat still, waiting, both
with their eyes closed, both wishing that Shira would come and they
would feel the soft guiding touch, but the hours passed and there was
nothing.
Soon they decided that they would have to move somehow, and make some
kind of decision. They set off towards the setting sun, slowly, eyes
closed, still roped together.
Soon they both had the feeling that Shira may be somewhere near, but
they were afraid to look in case he disappeared. They moved slowly,
neither of them knowing where they were going, but still there was no
soft touch, no guide. Eventually they stopped in a green meadow where
the horses began grazing greedily. The two brothers opened their eyes
to see that the grass was soft and fresh with spring shoots, and all
around them new buds were growing and bulbs were shooting.
Bara began to laugh. “ Of course we have arrived here in this wonderful
soft grass!” he cried. We may have had our eyes closed, but the horses
knew exactly where they were going!”
Bild looked puzzled. “You mean that only if they too do not know where
they are going that Shira will come? Is he is hiding from them too?”
Bara shrugged. "Maybe, who knows? Anyway, tomorrow I will bind up
their eyes, then we will all be unable to see and maybe then Shira will
come and guide us home.”
The next day they saddled up the two horses, who looked well fed on good
new grass. They bound the eyes of the two horses, who whinnied and
shifted and seemed to be afraid. Then Bara and Bild mounted their blind
horses, closed their eyes, and waited for Shira to come and show them
the way.
They waited for the long time, but there was no soft touch to guide
them, only the sound of the breeze blowing in the wind. They moved off
slowly, filled with disappointment, but still hoping, still believing
that if they waited long enough Shira would come.
The gentle breeze became a strong wind at their back, almost blowing
them along the path. Bild felt afraid but he relied upon his strength
to give him courage. Bara was wondering why the breeze had become a
wind so suddenly, would there be a storm? He too was afraid but he
relied upon his wits and knew that he had only to open his eyes and he
would be able to see everything. He began to think that they may be
going the wrong way after all, but the wind was blowing so hard it was
hard to stop.
He turned Tamba’s head a little and guided the two horses
into the wind, for he knew that if they walked into the wind the storm
would pass more quickly. They battled on into the wind, their eyes shut
against the rain, hoping that their gentle guide would come to rescue
them. They blindly stumbled on and on, the horses picking their way
slowly through the rocks. Bara became concerned for the horses, because
there were so many rocks.
“I am going to unmask the horses,” he said. “They may get hurt.”
Opening his eyes he saw that they were in a thick mist and only a few feet in front of them was visible.
“Bild! You may as well open your eyes now, for we can’t see where we are
going anyway. There is a mist.” Bild opened his eyes, and looked
around him, there was no sign of any familiar landmarks. They were
totally lost. The rocky path was clear under their feet but it was not
clear where it was going. The pathway was all they had to guide them
and the wind that blew hard in their faces. The sound of rushing water
was somewhere near.
All at once, Bara knew what to do. “This is enough to go on!” He
cried. “We have the pathway, and the water, so let’s go on, bit by
bit. We are not lost if we have these.” And so the two horses and their
riders moved slowly and carefully into the mist, with the pathway and
the river to guide them, heading towards home.
When a twin dies before birth, the sole survivor needs help and understanding. Womb twin survivors are the sole survivors of a twin or multiple pregnancy. This group, 1 in 10 of the population, includes survivors of a stillbirth, miscarriage, abortion and a "vanishing twin" pregnancy. It is a story of a twin bond broken by death, leaving a lonely survivor.
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