This was the prelude to the three months I spent with Elizabeth.
The trumpets of Jerusalem woke me each morning. Instead of rushing to get water from a well, water was brought as soon as I awoke. Clean robes, each more beautiful than the day before, awaited me. Bountiful amounts of food were already prepared. Zacharias and Elizabeth reclined on couches by the side of the table.
Zacharias conveyed his greetings by a big grin and welcome in his eyes, Elizabeth with a kiss and a sweet smile.
The entire household was quiet. So quiet in fact, it sometimes bothered me. After all, my home life teemed with people and animals. Children always fought or played near our home. Gossiping or quarreling women met at the well. When we baked bread at a communal oven, women socialized as we gathered. My brother would noisily tease me or Leah cling to me, asking a million questions. It was so quiet in Elizabeth"s home, I began to miss the arguments of Daniel and Leah. I especially missed the noise my father made as he came in from the fields with loud songs or praises.
I found myself missing the donkey Father used for plowing. He always brayed when he neared our home.
Chickens clucked outside our door and other noises of animals sometimes annoyed me. Now I missed them.
Here, servants attended our every need.
Sometimes I felt guilty having someone cater to my every whim. Elizabeth explained why they had servants.
“Mary, please don"t feel bad that you are waited upon. We give these people jobs. Deborah has a mother and father who are quite old and unable to work. Without her employment with us, they would not be able to eat, except through charity.” She laughed. “And you know us Jews. We love giving to charity, but we hate having to receive it.”
I laughed with her. I must admit we Jews were a proud people. Work is taught us at an early age. Now, I understood why she employed so many servants.
Two months flew by. We spent our days sewing clothing for the babies. She taught me intricate embroidery stitches as well as how to use dyes. Each day she and I took a walk. The midwife informed her that walking would keep her healthy and make the birth of her child easier.
From Zacharias" home, we could see Jerusalem set among golden hills. Sometimes I walked outside and looked to those hills. When the sun caught the reflection of the many houses built at different levels, I wondered how people climbed to the top.
Could it possibly be as beautiful as it looked from here? Surely there were poor people there, as in other parts of the world. Probably dirt and sin reigned, too. Standing a distance from the city, it gave off a magical quality. It was more beautiful than anything I could have imagined.
All Jews long to visit Jerusalem. When we pray, we even turn our faces toward the city of David. Pilgrims make the journey to pray in the most holy of temples.
Elizabeth and I often spoke of Jerusalem and its history.
“Did you know that the city was mentioned almost 2000 years ago in Egyptian records?” Elizabeth asked as we sat and watched butterflies flitting through the flowers.
“I had no idea it was so old. Has it always had walls like it does now?”
She laughed. “Walls have been built, then brought down by wars, then rebuilt by so many different nations, it"s a little hard to remember all the times Jerusalem has been rebuilt.”
“It seems impossible that so many generations of our people have visited or actually lived there.” I picked up a small garment and began embroidering it.
“They even have different names for the valleys,” she laughed. “One is called the Valley of Cheese makers.”
“It will be my joy to visit one day.” I laughed.
My wish to visit that valley was almost overwhelming. However, Elizabeth was so advanced in her pregnancy, I never mentioned my desire. Being so far in her pregnancy, I knew it would be impossible for her to walk so far.
One morning as I met Zacharias and Elizabeth for our meal, she said with a smile. “We"ve made plans for a visit to Jerusalem today.”
Though it was a journey I longed to make, I protested. “Oh, no, you can"t go, Elizabeth.”
She and Zacharias laughed. “Of course, I can"t go.” She reached over, kissed my forehead, and continued. “No one should come so close to Jerusalem and not visit it. Deborah and her husband will accompany you.”
Leaving the house, we entered a world so hot it felt like an oven. Deborah and I immediately scooped cowls over our heads.
We rode the short distance to the gates of Jerusalem in a cart pulled by a donkey. Deborah"s husband kept the animal moving at a steady pace, but nothing helped to cool us.
The heat poured down as if the sun was testing its ability to bake. Rays of the sun shimmered atop the road, making dancing ghost-like images. Palms at intervals gave little shade, and I doubted they would do much to ease the heat.
When we passed olive groves, I longed for the shade these trees provided. But the trip wasn"t long, and I knew we"d find some kind of shelter in the walls of the city.
Odors from who-knows-what enveloped us. Scents of wilted flowers mingled in the still air. Dust, with its myriad aromas hung in the stillness, then moved about by numerous travelers. Animals deposited dung, leaving a pungent odor behind. Bodies passing in both directions left their own particular scents.
As we neared Jerusalem, the gates were so enormous, there was no way to describe their size. It seemed everyone in the world, as well as all their animals, were entering or leaving by these gates at the same time.
The cart and donkey were left in care of a servant brought for this purpose. I was so enthralled with the sights, I almost stumbled over a child. We both would have fallen had Deborah not taken my arm. The child scampered away, running to catch up with her parents.
I stared at Romans dressed in heavy metal helmets and vests. “They must be terribly hot,” I said in a low voice to Deborah.
“I"m sure they are,” she spoke softly. “But you will never have one smile at you or even recognize you as a human being.”
The noise and activity of the street we entered was fascinating. There were beggars in bright shawls sitting just inside the gates. “Don"t give them anything,” Debra cautioned, pulling me further into the throng.
“I don"t have anything to share,” I said, and turned my head to look at more captivating activity.
Camels and donkeys loaded with bundles caught my eye. I wondered if they held jewelry or perhaps preserved meats or cheeses or exotic foods...maybe even purple dye.
“What could possibly be in those bundles?” I really didn"t expect an answer, I was so enthralled.
“Look out!” Debra grabbed my arm and pulled me rather roughly, I thought, away from the handlers.
“Why did you do that?” I caught my breath.
“Mary, look at the way the owners are throwing their whips around. You could have been hit.”
“Oh.” Then I noticed others. People moved carefully around the handlers because the drivers flung their straps into the air without any thought of who they might hit. “Thank you so much, Deborah. I could really have been hurt.”
I couldn"t turn my head fast enough to see and hear everything.
The sound of people speaking loudly and in dozens of different languages and dialects assaulted our ears. I recognized a few phrases and words of some of the languages because Nazareth was on a trade route and we"d been exposed to people whose speech was different from ours. Hands were clapped to draw attention to a particular product. Drums were also pounded to bring customers into shops, which only added to the din.
Fires burned outside cave-like shops. Cooks offered food of every description. There were roasting pieces of meat: goat, sheep and fowl. Although my morning meal had been more than sufficient, odors from the meats, as well as different types of baking made me wish to sample everything.
There was bread with holes in it. Debra told me people stuffed meat or vegetables in them. Flat, round, thin pieces of bread were browned, then sold. Scents of distinct foods we smelled were so unlike anything I knew, I wanted to stop and try each offering.
“Mary, please don"t eat any of that.”
“Why?”
“You don"t know how clean it is,” Deborah said, as she gently pulled me along.
Some of the streets were covered with brightly colored canvases to give protection from the sun. As we walked a few feet down the street, we were in the midst of a tunnel carved from the mountain.
Removing our cowls, we breathed a sigh of relief. The coolness of being inside a mountain was such a contrast from the searing heat of the outside, I never wanted to leave.
What a strange place Jerusalem was!
As we walked from street to street, we saw people who sold every imaginable ware. Now I knew what happened to some of the merchandise Jeremiah carried on his caravan.
Silks, jewels, spices and perfumes abounded alongside lamps and carpets. Ivory was carved into settings for rings, bracelets and necklaces. Different colored dyes were displayed near the spices.
I had never seen so many articles for sale. When I saw the toys, I simply had to pick up the tops my brother would love to send spinning. There were dolls Leah and the rest of the children of my village would treat like live babies.
The article I wanted most was a checker board for my father. Checkers were pieces of tile carved with tiny figures in each space. The tiles were painted two different colors so the players could distinguish their checkers from the opponent"s. I passed them quickly, knowing there was no money for such a purchase.
In the shops which held cooking and eating utensils, I saw the perfect bowl for my mother. Made of glass, I knew she would treasure it all the days of her life.
Again I passed them by, but I made a promise to myself. If I were ever fortunate enough to be able to return to Jerusalem, I would purchase gifts for my entire family.
We walked a little further, again entering the sunshine. Our cowls were replaced as we gazed.
Riding toward Jerusalem, we saw the tops of buildings standing above the gates. Viewed from a distance, I hadn"t realized how large and beautiful these structures really were.
“There"s one of Herod"s palaces,” Deborah pointed. “It"s been in the building stage for a good many years”
I noticed men swarming around the grounds, ropes attached to a huge square boulder. Other ropes led to men who looked like ants, as they clung to the sides of the building. They pulled, the rock moved an inch or two as I asked, “It isn"t completed yet?”
“Sometimes I wonder if it ever will be,” Deborah remarked dryly. We moved closer.
People as far away as Nazareth knew of Herod"s cruelty, but I could still appreciate the beauty of his palace.
Other palaces and homes caught my eye too, but none were as large and ornate as Herod"s latest.
We left the palace to move closer to the Temple. Entering the gate, we walked through outer courtyards. There were palm trees with green, yellow and brown fronds as well as myriad flowers, their riotous colors exquisite dots of beauty.
Then we moved up the steps to the Temple. How magnificent! I felt David near me and his Psalms seemed to fill the air above my head. I was saturated with the goodness of God and the miracle that happened to me. As we climbed ever higher, I felt I was moving into the heavens. Many prophets surrounded me, chanting, worshiping God, making me dizzy.
I must have swayed, because Deborah caught my arm, bringing me back to earth.
“Mary!” She eased me down onto a marble bench. “You"re faint! Here, sit awhile.”
She fanned my face with a palm frond while her husband opened the goatskin of water and poured a cup.
Finally, I felt cooler and not quite so dizzy, so we moved down the steps.
“Maybe we should go home, now,” Deborah suggested.
I was so ashamed I almost fainted, I didn"t even protest. We made our way back to the outer gate, climbed into the cart and were soon home.
The feeling that I was with David and the prophets persisted for many days. Sometimes I caught Elizabeth looking at me strangely, but I couldn"t bring myself to explain what happened at the temple.
I visited with Elizabeth almost three months before my homesickness became almost unbearable.
I wasn"t sleeping well because dreams of Joseph and the last time I saw him disturbed me. The look he gave me when he thought I had betrayed him haunted me. The uncertainty was quite evident as he stared at me. Did he believe me yet? These questions hammered through my brain constantly.
Though my mother wrote often, she talked of everything and everyone. That is, everyone except Joseph.
By this time, Sarah was married. Mother wrote every detail, thinking I would be pleased to know. But it only made me sad, because I knew my absence hurt Sarah.
The date for my marriage arrived.
Elizabeth didn"t feel well and spent most of that day in bed. I didn"t remind her it should have been my wedding day. All I could think of was Joseph and the happiness today could have brought. Now I wondered. Would he even want a wedding? Would he ever want me again? Although the angel Gabriel told me Joseph would be told, I still did not know what Joseph thought.
After my wedding day was just a bitter memory, I accepted my fate. Whatever God planned I would do to the best of my ability. Meanwhile, deep loneliness for Joseph and my family consumed me. I made a conscious effort to learn the many things Elizabeth taught me.
The midwife visited and gave lessons in how to prepare for the birth of our babies. She told us about the baby and the cord that held him to his mother, then demonstrated how to cut it. She showed us drawings of how the baby would be born and what should be done. She taught us how to swaddle a baby properly and how to care for ourselves. I absorbed as much information as possible.
To this day, I don"t know if I had a premonition I would need this particular knowledge.
One afternoon as we sat on a bench in the garden outside her home, tears welled so near the surface I wondered if I could keep them from sliding down my cheeks. We were making tiny stitches in minuscule garments for our babies.
It was nice and cool there, again made possible by Roman ingenuity. Fountains made in the form of statues spewed water into the air. The water then fell back into the base to begin its cycle again. When the wind blew, water produced a vapor, cooling us.
Elizabeth and I spoke often of the two children we carried beneath our hearts. “Sometimes I wonder how I could have been so blessed after so many years without children,” she said, laying her sewing in her lap.
“I am so fortunate to have the love of the good man who is my husband.” Her voice became dreamy as she stared into space. “After all these years, I am carrying his baby. And this child was chosen by God to have a special role in life.”
Her face was angelic as she spoke of the baby. “I shall be thankful as long as I live. To have a child after having been childless when others my age were mothers many times over, is indeed a miracle.” She again picked up her work.
Our conversation continued, but it branched off into why we were chosen; why God selected us to carry these special children. Over the next few weeks, we spoke many times, wondering how these two children could change the world.
Because change it they must, or it would not have been foretold in the Scriptures and God would not have given us advance notice.
Our attitudes were quite different, however.
I didn"t know what to say when she praised God for the blessings he bestowed on her. I knew God blessed me because the angel had told me I was blessed among women. However, I was lonely and very frightened. What if Joseph didn"t want me when I returned? What would I do? At the moment, I was having trouble waiting for the answer I was sure God had.
“You know, Mary,” she said. “You"re being here has been such a help to me. I"ve listened to you and can almost feel your mother beside me. You are so like her when she was your age. She was kind and considerate, loving and knowledgeable. She and I loved each other when we were growing up. Over the years, I have missed seeing her dreadfully.”
“She misses you too,” I answered. “She said writing to you was one of the joys of her life. Hearing about your life, knowing you were happy made her happy as well.”
Elizabeth sighed. “So many people objected when I wished to marry Zacharias. I knew I loved him and that he would be good to me. My father would never have given his permission if he thought I would be unhappy.” She smiled and glanced toward the door, where she could see him studying the Talmud.
“The only mar on our happiness was that we had no children.” She laid her hand on the kicking stomach and her face lit up as though a light suddenly appeared. “Now God has even given this to us. Our life is a blessing, dear Mary.” The tone of voice she used was so like a prayer I had no answer.
I smiled at her, but the smile must have been a little wavy, because she asked. “Mary, will you please tell me what happened?”
I wanted to tell her, but at that moment I felt I could say nothing.
“I know you"re with child. I know this Child belongs to God. However, there is a sadness about you sometimes that bothers me. Can you tell me?” Her needle went in and out of the tiny gown she was making.
“Oh, Elizabeth,” I cried, and the tears I refused to shed, now pressed at the back of my eyes. “Joseph doesn"t love me.”
She laid the garment in her lap. “That can"t be, my dear. Your mother tells me he has loved you all your life.”
“I know.” I slid the needle inside the linen and stopped stitching. “When I told him God planted the seed he didn"t believe me!”
“Oh, my dear Mary,” Elizabeth murmured, laid her sewing aside and pulled me into her arms. “Maybe just for the moment he felt that way. Maybe he was afraid to admit it because the idea was so unbelievable.”
“It"s possible, but...”
“How do you feel?” she asked, placing her chin on my head. “You"ve spoken very little about it. You stated you were happy God chose you, but afraid you wouldn"t be able to do the job.”
I stuck the needle into the material, thankful for the moment she held me. I looked toward the blooming lilies, the thicket roses, and marigolds. Other plants caught my attention as I tried to think exactly what to say.
“Elizabeth, I honestly don"t know how I feel. I"m frightened because I don"t know if I can raise the child as God would have me do.”
She released me, tilted my chin up so my eyes met hers and said, “Mary, He would not have chosen you had He not known you would be the perfect mother for His child.”
“I do know that, but I feel so unworthy.” I looked into the beautiful face sitting beside me. “I loved Joseph so very much and he wanted to divorce me because of my pregnancy.” I swallowed a sob. “I can understand why he might have doubts as to how I became with child, but Joseph has known me all my life.
Doesn"t he know I would never do anything like that?” Suddenly, tears flowed.
Elizabeth again took me into her arms and held me tightly. “Mary, I don"t know the answer to your question. At the time, it must have seemed strange you would say something like that.” She released me, then took a beautiful cloth and wiped my eyes.
“But he really hurt me,” I sobbed.
“Of course he did. Out of the hurt you gave him, he gave hurt back.” She patted me as though I were a small child. “I know you didn"t mean to hurt him...you meant to bring him good news. Unfortunately, he couldn"t understand at that moment.”
I snuffled like an injured child.
“After you told him, Mary, how long before you left home?”
“A few days. After we talked, he didn"t even come to see me again.” Tears fell from my eyes like a waterfall.
“He didn"t even come to see me,” I repeated. “If he loved me, he would have believed me.”
I sobbed and she held me tightly. When I could no longer cry, she wiped my tears away. “Dear, I know that Joseph must still love you. He could not quit loving you, regardless of what he thought at the moment. He knows you would never betray him.”
“But he said he was going to put me away so no one would know of my infidelity.” Another burst of tears threatened.
“Hush now, darling. It will be all right. I know it will. God would not give you such a gift as His son, then leave you unmarried to face a scandal.”
“Elizabeth, I"m so confused.” I said, trying to sit straight. “Of course, studying the Scriptures I knew there was to be a Savior born. I didn"t even think of how or when or where or to whom. The day this happened to me, my mother said all Jewish mothers watched their daughters carefully. She said each mother wondered if her daughter would be the one chosen.”
I stood and faced her. “You are so happy with your child.” I stated. She smiled broadly and patted her abundant middle.
“And here am I, so unhappy.” I walked to one of the fountains and dipped my fingers into the water, then brought the water to my lips. “The God who made this water, also planted the seed inside me. I know the Baby is growing. I do feel humble that God chose me, but Elizabeth I"m so frightened I don"t know what to do.” I turned and ran, kneeled and placed my head in her lap. “And I miss my mother,” I cried.
As long as I cried, Elizabeth ran her fingers through my hair, soothing me, talking to me as though I were a baby. When the tears finally stopped, I raised my head and looked into her loving eyes. She gently wiped my face with a linen handkerchief. I was humbled by the look of love she held for me.
“Oh, my darling Mary, I had no idea you were so very homesick,” she said.
“Oh, I"m not.” I objected. “How could I be? You and Zacharias have been like my own parents. You have given me so much it is impossible to thank you. You have treated me as though I were your own daughter.”
“When I first came to Judea,” Elizabeth said. “I missed the Galilean hills. I missed the earthy odor. I missed the trees that grew everywhere. I missed the animals that made their own distinctive noises. I missed everyone I knew. You see my dear, I love Zacharias. And there is the difference.”
“You were homesick?” I asked.
“Of course. It"s only natural. My mother was dead, but yours is still alive and writes to you quite frequently, I notice. You must be very close.”
“We are.”
“You are very young. This strange occurrence has made you feel vulnerable. Normally, you"re a person who is very strong and controls most of what happens in your life, I think.”
I nodded.
“You can"t control these events. You are going to have a child, and it isn"t even the child of the man you love.
Oh, I don"t mean you don"t love God, but you wanted your children to be the children of Joseph. This child"s conception was completely out of your control.”
Again I nodded and looked deeply into her eyes as she spoke. Her voice was low and intimate and full of compassion.
“Mary, my dear Mary. It"s all right to be homesick. It"s all right not to be in control all the time. If you can just learn to leave this situation in God"s hands He will take care of it for you.”
“Oh, Elizabeth, you are so wise.” I said, moving to the bench beside her.
“I"m not wise, Mary, just older than you. I do know how you feel, having a miracle happen to you. I was blessed. There was a miracle for me, also. I was so thrilled I couldn"t thank God enough.
“However, you are so young to have your faith tested. I know you will make a good mother for the Son of God.
I also feel you will have many troubles from all this. There is just one other thing that I know better than I know my own self. You are the person God chose. Therefore, you are a much better woman than any who have gone before and any who will come after.”
“I am so frightened, Elizabeth,” I protested. “Sometimes I wake at night and wonder why I was chosen. Why me? Why not others who are much better than I? I didn"t ask for this!” I cried. Then I realized what I said. “Oh, my God, forgive me!”
“Hush.” Elizabeth held my hands tightly. “There is nothing to forgive. Don"t you know that God understands how we feel? It doesn"t make any difference whether you say it aloud. God knows. He also knows you are special or He would never have chosen you. He had the entire ages to look through.
“Every girl who was ever born belonged to Him. He chose you because you possess the qualities needed to raise His son. You have the strength to withstand the special trials that will come to you. He knew what He did.
Don"t ever doubt for a moment.”
We stared at each other. It felt as though she were giving me strength to go on; to do God"s will; to be the person God believed in. I knew I was weak; I prayed silently that I would be able to live up to God"s will.
I made my decision.
“Elizabeth, you and Zacharias have been so good to me, but I must go home. I have to see Joseph. I miss my mother and father.” I laughed as I realized my voice held a plaintive quality I didn"t even know I felt. “I even miss my brother and sister. Their fighting and laughter and teasing is part of my life.” I smiled. “I miss Sarah, my best friend who is now married.”
“Of course you must. It"s almost time for my baby to be born, as well. And you know it isn"t seemly for a girl as young as you to be in the house when a baby is born to another.”
I nodded.
“Tomorrow, Zacharias will send a message to the gates of Jerusalem. The leader of your special caravan will be told that you are ready to go home on his next journey to Nazareth.” She stood and tugged at my hand. “Come, we shall tell him now so he can start his writing.”
We stood and the plans for my return home began. Elizabeth talked with Zacharias and he wrote his answers to her. What a joyful couple they were. They would be very good parents to the son who was to be born to them, I thought.
I would miss them. The conveniences they enjoyed had been a revelation and joy to me. I realized, however, I preferred our two-room home and the freedom of those hills in which I roamed.
It was strange, but I was even beginning to miss getting up early in the morning and walking to the well to get water for the day. I missed the chirruping of birds in the trees. The slap of a bare foot on the polished stones of the pathway was as familiar as life itself. I missed the laughter and gossip of the women at the well, also.
I longed to smell that special odor of baking bread at the communal oven almost every day. Lately, when I heard the servants grinding grain for bread, it was another reminder of the things I missed.
I hadn"t even realized I was homesick. Now that I knew, the time crawled. It was only three days later we were told the caravan would leave Jerusalem the day after the Sabbath.
My heart sang.
I was so anxious to leave, I could barely be still. Yet, I hated leaving two people who had been so good to me.
The two who had taken care of me all these months, who gave me a visit to Jerusalem, who saw that I was always comfortable and as happy as they could make me.
Two days before the Sabbath, I began to pack. Where had all these parcels come from? When I arrived, I only had the clothing I wore, sandals, two extra robes and the straw basket for carrying food.
Now, there were parcels all over the room in which I slept. “What will I ever do with all this?” I said it so low and had no idea anyone listened.
With a smile on her face, Elizabeth entered the room. “You are going to take all this home with you.”
“But I can"t do that. In the first place, you and Zacharias have been too good to me...”
“Yes?”
“You have given me so much. You fed me exotic food...”
“Some of which you didn"t like...or didn"t like you.” She said dryly.
“I"m a country girl, remember? Just meat and vegetables.” I grinned, remembering the dried fish served one night. I ate it and promptly got sick.
“Elizabeth, if you remember, you kept buying clothing for the Baby.” I picked up a large parcel that held the baby"s swaddling clothes, as well as gowns and other necessities.
“You"ll need them.”
“Maybe, but that isn"t all. Here are packages I don"t recognize. What are they? Are you sure I sh