The boy was alive. Despite all attempts to smother him, he would live. Was it possible?
     Adina's praises rose to the shadowy heavens, ringing among the stars. Her voice trembled, weakened by her tears, but she would not stop. The raw emotion that washed over her in tidal waves inhibited anything other than pure worship.

                           Praise to the god of our ancestors
                                      Who will deliver us
                                  Who has heard our cries
                             And the sounds of our suffering
                                    And did not turn away
                      May his name be always on our lips

     She never wanted to stop. Here in the presence of a god so mighty, she found rest, healing. Her son was alive. The Lord had returned.

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