In the heart of 1942 Gehenna, where shadows of war stretch long, a tender tale of compassion unfolds. Delilah, a woman rooted in hearth and home, tends the bar alongside her husband, Mettie, a man guided by a generous spirit. One evening, Mettie arrives with Salome, a woman cast adrift from a traveling carnival, cradling her newborn son, Silas.

Salome’s arrival is like a pebble dropped in still water. The weary patrons, steel workers and young lovers alike, pause in their earthly pursuits, drawn by her otherworldly beauty and the quiet strength she exudes. As Salome nurses her child, a crass remark pierces the tavern’s smoky air. But she silences the room with a flash of steel and a fierce maternal grace.

Delilah sees a sister in Salome, recognizing the sacred bond between mother and child. She invites her into their fold. The author subtly reminds us of Jenkins stirring counter clockwise which is bad luck, and Delilah corrects this with clockwise circles to imbue the stew with blessings. The tale ends with an unspoken understanding, a promise of shelter and belonging for Salome and Silas.

The story is a reminder that even in the darkest of times, the Goddess’s light shines through acts of kindness and protection. It celebrates the strength of women, the sacredness of motherhood, and the power of community to offer refuge to those in need.