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The night air of Sudan closed around us. The Talori (Tuh-law-ree) River’s rushing waters whispered in the distance. Mama tucked us into our sleeping mats. “We are now going to bed.” Mama said as she kissed Daniel, my little brother. Her voice was deep and sweet. “We are now going to pray.” Mama pulled the cowhide blanket to Puoch’s (Pw-awk) chin. “Before we pray we will sing.” She leaned over my brother, Galuak (Gaw-lue-ock) and kissed him, too “He is my helper, all of my days, even while I sleep. Me, I will give my heart to Jesus. I will give my heart to Jesus.” Mama was now on the floor near me. I whispered to her, “Will there be war again?” I asked. Her thin finger touched my lips. She sang her song.