A village once raised a child. A village once gathered the rainwaters of wisdom and baptized each child until it’s essence seeped in pores and mingled permanently with the life-blood in the veins. A village once maintained a loving spirit that surrounded and molded the lives of the young and secured the prosperity of their futures. These villages were protected by the fierceness and bravery of many men, who claimed all were within the bounds of their sacred trust. The villagers shared and laughed together. They cried in the hours of the closest kinship to midnight; cleansing blood from wounds and mending the tattered edges of battered souls. The men provided the foundation and framework for building houses, but the women were the mud and stone; the women were the stoves that heated in the darkest of winters and the oil lamps that provided the light children studied the Bible. The strong women with the tender hearts created a space of warmth and joy, of love and family. They encourag...