That night they offered their palsied selves to the great mother god, Gaia. Under a blazing full moon, they processed up a hill where lay a circle of stones. One by one each placed their piece inside the sacred space. Jerry placed his towards the edge. They surrounded the circle holding hands.

“Oh, great Mother,” intoned Sheila, “bend down and cradle these wounded souls. Hold them to your breast. Your nurture we gratefully accept. Amen.”

After the ritual, people lingered, speaking softly. Jerry noticed this man glowing in a white garb was stepping perilously close to his clay figure. April swooped over. “Careful,” she said to him.

“I am so sorry,” he said.

Jerry said sarcastically, “Yeah, what’s the big idea? Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?”

“I would never think to do that,” he said, dead serious.

“I’m just kidding,” said Jerry. “Thanks, April.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I am Mohammad.” A young man, probably in his 20s, and trim, his eyes glowed bright with intensity.

“I’m Jerry. Where are you from?”

“Jerusalem.”

“New York?”

“No,” he laughed. “Israel.”

“Wow. And you came all that way for this?”

“Oh no, I am doing my doctorate at UC Berkeley, comparative religion. May I look at your palsied person?”

“Of course.”

He reached down.

April snapped on her flashlight.

“Ahhh, this boy has suffered much. Is there a story behind it?”

“I wish I knew.”

“Are you Christian?” Mohammad asked.

“Yes,” said Jerry.

“And you?” he asked April.

“Jewish,” she answered. “You?”

“Muslim,” he said.

They stood in silence, then Mohammad erupted in laughter. In moments, Jerry and April both joined in. Just when it seemed to subside, another outburst occurred. Tears streamed down Jerry’s face. 

“What’s so funny?” Jerry confessed through his receding giggles.

“The three desert religions stand before the wounded child in wonder. That about sums it up: patriarchs looking for their mothers,” said Mohammad.

“You must come to Israel,” he continued. “How long have you been married?”

“Oh no, we’re not married,” April blurted.

“Still, you both must come. We will exchange addresses.” 

“Yes,” Jerry said.

“Well, I will see you in the morning. And don’t forget to journal,” said Mohammad. 

Jerry moved closer to April. “No, really, I didn’t know you cared.”

“I don’t,” she said and with the coolness of the moon strode off.