The house - the only one in the entire valley - sat on the crest of a low hill. From this height one could see the river and the field of ripe corn dotted with the flowers that always promised a good harvest. The only thing the earth needed was a downpour or at least a shower.
Throughout the morning Lencho - who knew his fields intimately - had done nothing else but see the sky towards the north-east.
“Now we’re really going to get some water, woman.”
The woman who was preparing supper, replied,
The older boys were working in the field, while the smaller ones were playing near the house until the woman called to them all, “Come for dinner”.
“Yes, God willing”
It was during the meal that, just as Lencho had predicted, big drops of rain began to fall. But suddenly a strong wind began to blow and along with the rain very large hailstones began to fall. It did not pass quickly. For an hour the hail rained on the house, the garden, the hillside, the cornfield, on the whole valley. The corn was totally destroyed. The flowers were gone from the plants. Lencho’s soul was filled with sadness.
When the storm had passed, he stood in the middle of the field and said to his sons,
“A plague of locusts would have left more than this. The hail has left nothing. This year we will have no corn. All our work, for nothing. There’s no one who can help us. We’ll all go hungry this year.”
All through the night, Lencho thought only of his one hope: the help of God, whose eyes, as he had been instructed, see everything, even what is deep in one’s conscience.