Love the Sinner
Love the Sinner https://crisismagazine.com/opinion/love-the-sinner?utm_source=twitter&utm_medium=social&utm_campaign=novashare On the forest floor, half covered in withered leaves, lay the naked body of a child, a young girl. Her short dark hair reached just to her shoulders; her face was obscured with leaves. In her childish breast there was a small, curiously shaped triangular wound, livid against the white, translucent skin. It was a deep, almost bloodless wound—the kind that bleeds on the inside. Olav Audunsson stood looking down at her in grief and heartbreak and horror. There was about her something familiar, though he could swear he had never seen her before. And the wound in her breast had been made by his own dagger. He awoke from his dream greatly troubled. The vision seemed to accuse him of the murder of a child, yet never had he knowingly done violence against such a one. Men he had killed in battle, or for vengeance, but never had he harmed woman or child! ...