The Hadassah Covenant

by Tommy Tenney

  A dark shape appeared at the window. Its glass shattered loudly and a blast of machine-gun fire split the late afternoon air.

  The terrorists’ defiant response.

  At that very second, a black-clad commando leaped over the rooftop’s lip, dangled over the void from a thick rope, and from an upside-down position, fired his pistol straight into the terrorist’s chest. Less than a half second later he was jerked back up just before a crane-mounted, remote-controlled machine gun swiveled into place and began to strafe the room one inch above the windowsill level—a full two feet above where infrared scopes had shown young Hadassah al-Feliz lying prone in a corner. A calculated, but necessarily swift risk.

  She blinked through the smoke and once again began to cry, a sound covered by the loud noise.

  Strange—her three tormentors were gone.

  BEN GURION AIRPORT

  The wide-eyed little girl passing through the Ben Gurion customs booth in the arms of an American soldier did not react at the sight of the woman striding toward her—for the simple reason that she did not recognize her face. Nor did she recognize the pale, blue-starred flags overhead, marking the country whose soil she had just entered.

  What she did recognize, however, and recoiled violently against in the process, were the Uzi machine guns gripped by the large men on either side of the lady. Hadassah al-Feliz’s eyes widened suddenly—she let out a plaintive whimper, then a piercing scream, and began to climb up the GI’s shoulder to escape the shining black spitters of death.

  The approaching woman with the shining eyes turned frantically to every side and realized at once the source of Hadassah’s distress. She motioned swiftly to the men beside her and the terrifying reminders were immediately hidden away, out of sight. Then she stepped forward, just as the same soldier who had saved the tiny Hadassah lowered her little body to the floor.

  To comfort her, the same commando squad which had rescued her was allowed to convey her to Israel.

  As the lady grew near and crouched low, peering into her face, little Hadassah could see that she was very pretty, and that she was crying freely. Though it did not seem the same sort of weeping that had overtaken her mother and sister before their deaths, Hadassah’s fear remained. The lady was actually smiling through her tears.

  “Hello, Hadassah,” the First Lady spoke, in surprisingly fluent Arabic. “I’m sorry you saw things that frightened you.”

  The little girl had no response. She merely bit her lip and glanced back at the men standing now a few paces behind the lady.

  “They’re not going to hurt you in any way,” the woman soothed. “In fact, they’re here to make sure no one ever hurts you again. Just like the brave soldier who brought you here. Do you understand?”

  Hadassah thought about the word brave and decided that she did understand. She nodded slowly.

  “I’m so glad to meet you, Hadassah,” the lady said, and she extended her hand. Hadassah reached out and softly gripped it. The two clasped and shook tenderly. “I want to tell you my name, and you’re going to laugh when you hear it. It’s a very pretty name, I’d bet you’ll agree.”

  “What is it?”

  “My name is Hadassah, too.”

  The little girl cocked her head back in surprise. “My mommy told me there was no other Hadassah anywhere in the land.”

  “She was right. But you just came to another land. It’s a place where lots of Hadassahs can live together and be protected by the men with the big guns instead of hurt by them.”

  “Men with big guns and knives hurt my family,” Hadassah said, the fear flickering back into her face.

  “I know they did, honey,” the lady said, and more tears reappeared in her eyes. “I’m so sorry. So sorry.”

  Then the woman did something the little Hadassah had not expected. Something that would change the little girl’s life forever. She reached out slowly, caressed her hand, and held out her arms. Without even meaning to, the tiny form stepped between them.

  They stood that way for a very long time, not even worrying about all the people crowded around them now, both of them crying for inner reasons that must have been different and in some ways very much the same.

  At some point the lady Hadassah drew back and took a deep breath.

  “Hadassah, I have a house that’s very big and very safe and very empty without any little girls to keep me company. I haven’t been able to have any children out of my tummy, but I love kids very much. And I have a husband who couldn’t be here today, but who very much wants to meet you. We’d love it if you’d come live with us for a while. Does that sound like something you’d want to do?”

  Without answering, the little girl stared hard into this new woman’s face. Hadassah. Another—who would have thought it? The lady was nice, and she definitely cared about her. And Hadassah cared about being safe.

  That was important.

  Little Hadassah nodded yes, and reached her finger toward the lady’s eyes, pointing.

  The woman peered into the little girl’s eyes and her own grew wide with surprise.

  “O dear G-d in heaven,” Hadassah ben Yuda said, laughing and crying at the same time. “I can’t believe this. And you saw it, too, didn’t you, sweetheart? Mine are the same as yours. Just like yours—isn’t that wonderful?”

  The little girl nodded and smiled.

  And that was enough.

  JERUSALEM POST—FRONT PAGE, BELOW THE FOLD—THREE WEEKS LATER

  The Office of the Prime Minister of Israel has confirmed that Mr. ben Yuda and his wife Hadassah have in fact arranged to adopt the nearly four-year-old Jewish Iraqi girl who appeared on television screens worldwide during the hostage drama that brutally claimed the lives of her family.

  The girl, whose name is also Hadassah, was taken into Israeli custody when Mossad operatives, working together with American Delta Force commandos, stormed the Baghdad apartment where she had been held at knifepoint before a global television audience. She was rescued and taken from there to the Baghdad Airport, where in an unusual transfer of custody, she was flown directly to Ben Gurion Airport in Israel and met at the terminal by First Lady Mrs. Hadassah ben Yuda in person.

  “I dedicate my life now to soothing this precious one’s wounds and giving her a warm new family where fear no longer reigns,” she told reporters. “The fact that she bears my name is only the smallest, although amusing, of coincidences. So is the completely unexpected discovery we made upon our first face-to-face meeting. That she shares with me an infrequent family genetic anomaly: a pair of green eyes.”

  Our reporter concurs—a double set of the most unusually luminous green eyes.

  Tommy Tenney often prays for the peace of Jerusalem and Baghdad. While writing fiction, one can wish for reality.