The Day Of An Ox Essay

“ I’m not sure son “ dad answered in the same tone , that was as much as we ever talked but I was used to it by now father was always quiet man .

It was not abnormal for my parents to reflect on their experiences surrounding my birth on my birthdays, when family and friends had their own children or when they saw glimpses of my personality which reminded them that I have been “strong willed”, as they refer to it, from day one. In fact, the regularity in which the story was told, and details included in their remembrance, resulted in me envisioning the events as if I could recall them from my own memory. Although I never knew the true significance of birth stories prior to beginnings to read Gaskin’s memoirs, I have always been thankful for parents’ commitment to telling me how I came into this world and the details they included, as it has greatly influenced my feelings towards birth.

I let my eyes wander out to the empty field outside, thinking of the future and the past. I part another chapter of my life to be a mother. Perhaps I am giving up my independence like sacrifices to please an angry god, or rather goddess. The answers are not all there, but at least one part of my world is established, a small but important comfort. I look towards the child one last time as if she were a mirage in a hot desert. She no longer cries in her father’s arms, voice and energy drained from its earlier tantrums into existence.

Despite Marie Lu’s portrayal of Day as the archetype of the hero in the book Legend, he often is similar to a villain because he acts selfishly in ways that hurt society, thus adding to the complexity of his character. Day is a high profile criminal with hundreds of offenses against the Republic (government). It is up to June, a Republic soldier, to track Day and bring him to justice. Day clearly fits the hero archetype because he leads by example, inspires hundreds of people to rebel, and most importantly, helps June, a fellow Republic soldier, realize the atrocities her country commits against its people.

She kept the same pace and shrugged. “You don’t have to spend hours with a bunch of unruly toddlers. They may live among us, but trust me those bugs still behave like Rebels.”

He pushed his hat further back on his head. To no small extent, her resistance irritated him even more. “The outlaws are heading north and either Duvall, his horse, or both are leaving a blood trail.”

“No we need to go now. Get in the truck,” he instructed me. I reluctantly walked out, telling the kids we will be back soon. So we drove to the doctor, got the news, and drove home. Immediately I walked out to the barn to start cleaning. There hasn’t been a dust storm in weeks, so I was hoping it would last a little longer. I had rejected going to the doctor for so long. I was already a few months into pregnancy. I didn’t know how I could hide it from my children but I didn’t want them to worry about

“It’s not a big deal. I’ve had worse.” I shrugged. I was trying to play it cool. Not a great talent of mine, but with cute guys like him I had to at least try.

Audra was incredibly excited, too. She had seen animals born, but never a baby. This would be her first experience with childbirth, and she hoped it would prepare her for her own delivery.

“That is what I have heard in the legends I grew up with, I tease ye not.” He laughed at her as she rolled her eyes at him.

The midwives stepped out of the room and closed the door, Percival assumed to give him and his now-expanded family time to bond. But now it was up to him to carefully hand over his precious girls to Rion, and he was terrified or hurting or dropping them. He took slow, careful steps to the other side of the bed. Once he reached Rion’s side, Percival sighed with relief.

I stood still screaming, panicking in the dimly lit room while the baby of whom I was unconditionally devoted to vibrated unsteadily. Then a light hand gently squeezed the top of my shoulder hand did not have a voice, however it explained my pain would soon be relieved. Her shaking had ceased and the once distressed infant looked peaceful as her clear inexperienced blue eyes shut tightly. Hearing sharp murmurs from behind, I swiveled 180 degrees and murmurs slowly disintegrated into the frothy air, resulting in a women with mousey brown hair and a warm maternal face to start moving towards me as if she had precisely planned each step. The freckles on her flushed face mingled with one another while she spoke, asking if I’d remember to take my

“No … get the money… just…” Dad caught my eye, and gave me a look that made me turn around again.

I sucked in my breath, held it for as long as I could, tasting it with my tongue before letting it out. The air was stale again. A baby. We'd been through this before, each of us. Flabby and soundless or howling in pain, our last two had luckily died within hours. There had been a time when hope wasn't a sharp knife and babies were coveted. I am the one that remembers but they won’t listen. What is left of that time? Nothing, but me.

The Lion and the Ox is a one of the oldest and most popular pieces of classic Arabic literature. Originally from India, this animal fable is famous for its inclusion of many other animal fables, each of which help provide the characters of the story with advice regarding their situation. Unlike The Arabian Nights, which also uses a frame tale that contains each tale, multiple animals share their wisdom with one another. The wisdom of the story’s two main characters, Kalila and Dimna, help foreshadow and motivate the events of the frame tale and bring it to a reasonable yet tragic conclusion.