Faith is taking the first step even when you can't see the whole staircase.
Martin Luther King Jr.
It was a dark and stormy night on Tatooine.
Black Ben was ushered to a slave compound at the edge of Mos Espa. The boy who he followed wouldn't say anything but that a slave was giving birth and very sick. Ben shivered despite the warm desert air. He had been counting down the days until this one would come. Now that it was here, he didn't know what to do.
When he arrived at the crowded compound, the slaves instantly parted to let him through to the woman. Ben looked down at the face of Shmi Skywalker and closed his eyes. They all put faith in him, too much faith. He placed a hand on her swollen stomach, reaching out to calm her and help, in the little way he could, to ease the pain of bringing her son into this harsh, unforgiving wasteland.
The child was pure Light. Ben was surprised, though in retrospect he shouldn't have been. No one is ever born in Darkness, and he had known this child when he was still a Jedi. But, for some reason, he had thought the presence would already be tainted with Darkness. Slowly he released the old memories into the Force, unwilling to let them take control for a time.
"Well, Ms. Skywalker," he said, gently holding the child in his arms, "what will you name him?" Shmi Skywalker's face broke into a radiant smile.
"Anakin," she whispered. Ben smiled sadly.
"A beautiful name," he said.