The Red Tent

by Anita Diamant

The more a daughter knows the details of her mother’s life—without flinching or whining—the stronger the daughter.

Their coupling was the coupling of the sea and the sky, of the rain and the parched earth. Of night and day, wind and water.

Leah got down on her knees and, taking Jacob’s hand, kissed his fingers. Watching my mother submit like this was like seeing a sheep hunting a jackal or a man nursing a baby. My mother, who never wanted for words, nearly stuttered as she spoke.

“You are a child of water. Your spirit answered the spirit of the river. You must live by a river someday, Dinah. Only by a river will you be happy.”

Joseph stayed beside me and even forgot himself enough to hold my hand from time to time.

But it was Werenro we put into the ground.

could think of nothing but him, yet I began to doubt my memories.

“Liora, Mahalat, Giah, Yara, Noadya, and Yael,”