3 A.D. by Billie Matejka - HTML preview

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Chapter 7

Before daybreak on the day we were to meet Jeremiah outside Jerusalem, Rebecca and her husband arrived at Elizabeth"s home. The donkey was brought around to the front of the house and servants carried parcels from the house. Others began tying them to the donkey"s back.

When everything was completely packed, Elizabeth handed my straw bag to me. “Here"s some food. It should last you until you get home.”

Tears ran down my face as I took the bag. Much heavier than when I started from home, I placed it at my feet until we were ready to leave. “Oh, Elizabeth...” and I grabbed her to me and hugged tightly. “I thank you so much for what you gave me and what you taught me. I do hope we meet again.”

A tear trickled down her cheek, as well. “Please come back.”

Again, she put her arms around me. As she pulled me to her, I felt the baby kick. She moved one hand to her stomach and, as I looked at her, I saw that her face was suffused with love.

“Oh, Mary, I"m so glad he did that.”

“I am too. Now I can tell him when he visits that I knew him before he was born.”

“So you can,” Elizabeth said. With that, she kissed me, then walked into her home without looking back.

I didn"t know I would never see her again.

As we began our journey, I looked back at the house where I had lived for three months. Ferns sparkled with dew and trees held their limbs to the sky, leaves gleaming with the early morning moisture. Flowers appeared to have blossomed over night.

Their scents wafted toward me...or was it my imagination?

We moved rapidly down the road. The donkey walked as though it were a pleasure to be outside, even though he was laden with gifts Elizabeth and Zacharias gave me.

The sun was glowing, but air was quite pleasant. We passed the olive grove, then noticed hills around the countryside. As we neared Jerusalem, the sun caught the gate, turning it from white to gold.

As we neared the group, I saw it was much smaller than before. There were fewer camels and horsemen. A very small assembly of people waited. There were no children and few women. Jeremiah"s friendly smile fell on everything and everyone.

“Glad to have you back, Mary.” He greeted. “And I see you have a donkey to ride. Good. We shall be moving more rapidly on our return trip to Nazareth.”

The first day I was so happy to be striding along I ignored the weather. It could have been as hot as the middle of summer or as cold as a snowy day and I wouldn"t have minded. So, instead of walking slowly as I did on strolls with Elizabeth, I felt released from prison.

It felt so good to move rapidly; so rapidly, in fact, the donkey was not happy as I led him along. However, he soon learned we must move fast to keep up with the caravan. Most of the journey that day consisted of walking between the mountains and the sandy desert.

Our steps lagged after passing the first caravansary. We then camped out a few miles beyond Gophna. Guards were posted each night of our journey. Notification of the small value of the caravan was circulated before our start, so Jeremiah stated he didn"t expect trouble from thieves.

One day as we strode rapidly along, Jeremiah rode alongside me. “May I ask why we are in such a hurry?” I asked.

“I"m supposed to meet another caravan in Nazareth.” As he looked to the front, then the end of the caravan, he dismounted and walked with me. “I was having trouble getting a load of merchandise to go north, so I"m almost a day late on my schedule,” he said.

He gently guided his horse"s head forward, instead of to the side of the road where green vegetation looked inviting to the animal. “If I"m late, the caravan in Nazareth will leave for Ptolemais, carrying its valuable cargo with it.” He shrugged, his expressive face containing a look of worry. “If that happens, I"ve no goods for the return journey to Jerusalem.”

“Then I shall walk as rapidly as possible,” I said, as he mounted, threw me a small salute, then rode away.

So we rushed.

The second day of our journey, I rode the donkey part of the way, then walked. I still couldn"t get over the freedom I felt. We went up and down the hills with few problems. Since there were no children, there was scant delay. We only stopped at the caravansaries along the way to replenish our water supply.

Rebecca and I talked at night as we rested from our journey. “I am so glad to be going home,” I said, the first night we wrapped our cloaks around us and sat near the fire.

“You must be. It"s been quite awhile, hasn"t it?” She stretched her legs in front of her and bent to touch her toes.

I looked on in amazement.

“Why are you doing that?”

“Oh. It helps your entire body rest when you stretch like this.” She laughed. “Being on these caravans as much as we are, we had to learn the best ways to conserve our strength.”

I sat up straight and tried to touch my toes. Impossible. I looked at her and joined in her laughter. “Takes awhile, but you"ll be able to do it,” she encouraged.

“May I ask you a question?”

“Of course.” She reached for her toes again.

“Why do you and your husband travel so much? Do you carry merchandise to be sold, like Jeremiah?”

“Oh, no,” she answered. “My husband works for Jeremiah. He helps to load and unload the goods. Too, he takes care of the animals and keeps an eye out for trouble along the way.”

“Oh. Do you always go with him?”

“Not always.” She sat up straight, moved her shoulders and answered. “Sometimes Jeremiah asks that I come too, so I can make sure enough food is prepared for all the workers.” She gave me her shy smile. “He pays me as well as my husband, when I travel with them.”

“What a nice way to be able to be near your husband and make a little money at the same time.” I again tried to touch my toes. They had moved further away, I felt. But the stretching did feel good.

It began to cool after sunset. Soon, we wrapped our cloaks around us tightly because we knew it would get much colder before dawn arrived.

“Good night,” I called softly, listening to Rebecca as she slowly finished her stretching, then lay down.

I stared at the sky as I often did when outside. The stars twinkled and cavorted across the expanse. As the partial moon rose, one star flashed across the sky as though running from a foe. The night sky was something I had missed while at Elizabeth"s, because we retired so early.

The animals snorted quietly, then settled. Rumblings of snores were heard as the moon swam over the horizon.

It lit the vegetation at the side of the road. Trees swayed in the slight breeze now moving down from the mountains.

Closing my eyes, I was asleep almost immediately. Awakened by shouts of men moving the caravan into position for traveling, we hastily collected our possessions, drank water and ate our food as we moved along in the shadowy lights of daybreak.

Ginae, where we stopped the third night, sat on the edge of the Plain of Esdraelon. By the end of that day I was weary, but more anxious to get home every minute. Early the next morning before the sun arose, we began our journey across the Plain. This plain, with its lush vegetation, gave me such a feeling of joy I could barely contain myself.

The familiar hills were visible from the Plain and I was so happy to see them, tears formed. As we moved closer to these hills, I spied caves seen on our earlier journey. Animals were sheltered there when bad weather approached.

So anxious to get home, I scarcely felt the fatigue that pulled at my body. I couldn"t wait to feel my mother"s arms around me, to tickle my father under his beard and to laugh with Leah and Daniel. Thinking about my family made the distance seem farther and farther.

And Joseph? I refused to think of the reception I might receive from him. Knowing Joseph, the furniture for our home would be almost finished, whether we shared it or not. Also, being so familiar with his personality, I was positive he would be thinking of the decision he must make very soon.

Trudging over damp grasses and under trees, thoughts of how well I knew Joseph persisted. Stopping abruptly, the donkey bumped into me. I took another step and pondered. Had I really known him? If he loved me as he said, how could he have distrusted me? Knowing me as well as Joseph did, how could he even think I would let another man near me?

The sky barely peeked through the overhanging tree limbs as I pondered the fact that Jewish men had laws to protect themselves from harlots. I was no harlot, yet those same laws could condemn me. Twisting a leaf from one of the trees, I chewed on it thoughtfully as I tugged at the rope of the tired donkey.

I forgot Joseph and my problems as we neared home. I felt I remembered each rock we passed and each turn in the road. I again led the donkey rapidly. In my excitement, I skipped down the road. I became much too impatient to sit on his back.

I could have run the rest of the way. I saw the well that was as much a part of my life as life itself. The cool water would have felt glorious on my dirty body. Missing the bathroom at Elizabeth"s was a certainty, but home...Ah, home! There was never a sweeter word.

Moving so rapidly, we barely had a chance to speak to our fellow travelers. I knew no one, other than Rebecca.

I waved to Rebecca and Jeremiah, then turned onto the road leading home. The donkey seemed to sense we were nearing a place of rest because he walked more rapidly, with little persuasion.

Nearing home, I peered through the twilight toward home. Father and Daniel sat at the outside table, talking.

Looking further, I saw Mother come out of the door of our home holding a pot. Reaching the table, she looked up as though expecting someone or something.

When she recognized me, the container she carried landed on the table with a bang. She didn"t even notice. She was running, her arms outstretched.

As we met, her arms encircled me and tears of joy flowed down our faces. “Oh, Mother, I am so happy to see you,” I hugged her tightly. I hadn"t seen Leah, but she was at Mother"s heels. Now she flung herself at me. I squeezed her tiny body. Oh how good it was to be home.

“I thought you would never come,” Mother cried. “It"s been so long.” She moved back and wiped some of the dirt and tears from my face with the corner of her robe. Leah clung to my hand as though she would never let go.

By this time, Father and Daniel were there. Standing in the middle of the road we held each other tightly. When Father kissed me, I felt a dampness on his face he tried to conceal. Leah finally released my hand as we moved apart. I looked closely at Daniel.

“You"ve grown so much!” I exclaimed. “You don"t look like a little boy anymore.” He really had changed in the short time I was away. Where had his baby look gone? Did I detect a fuzz growing under his nose? How could that happen so rapidly?

“Well, I"m not a little boy anymore.”

What a glorious homecoming!

Soon, I was surrounded by friends and relatives. Sarah, her husband and parents were not present. They lived a couple of streets over and probably hadn"t heard the commotion.

Daniel, Leah following, took the donkey"s lead rope from my hand. They led him to the table. Leah moved the bowl Mother dropped to the side of the table, then wiped a few spots of stew. She and Daniel began unloading parcels. “I can"t believe you have so much on this poor animal. What"s in here, Mary?”

“I don"t know. One of the servants packed everything, so I have no idea what is in there.”

“You don"t know?” Mother asked.

I shook my head.

“Where did you get them?” Mother asked.

“Elizabeth and Zacharias asked that I bring each of you a small gift.”

“Doesn"t look very small to me.” Daniel stated as he removed yet another bag to place on the table.

Such beautiful gifts! When they unpacked the checker board for Father, his eyes again were suspiciously bright.

“Oh, Mary. How did they know what I longed to have?” The grin that reached from the corners of his mouth to his eyes told me all I needed to know. I only wished my dear cousins were there to share this homecoming with me.

As the gifts were placed on the table, I knew Deborah had told Elizabeth about my wishes. There were spinning tops for Daniel and a doll for Leah. She took one look, clasped the doll to her and hugged tightly. Tears sparkled in her eyes as she thanked me.

I unpacked the bowl I had wanted to purchase for mother. Placing the bowl on the table, I said, “it"s for you.”

“Ooooh! How beautiful!” Mother exclaimed, not daring to touch it. “I"ve heard of this glass, but I"ve never seen it before.”

I looked around at the faces of our neighbors. They were as enthralled with the bowl as Mother. Their eyes glowed and expressions of wonder appeared on each face. People I had known all my life were now as surprised at the wonder of glass as I had been when I arrived at Elizabeth"s.

This bowl would make a lot of interesting conversations for many in our village, both male and female.

I picked it up and gently placed it in her hands. “Mother, it isn"t that easily broken. Elizabeth and Zacharias drink from goblets made from glass at every meal.”

“Every meal?” Leah exclaimed.

“Every meal.”

“And you actually drank out of them?” Daniel was as enthralled as everyone else.

“Yes. We usually had juice each morning and we used these containers to drink from.”

I noticed Mother"s hands clutching the bowl tightly. “It won"t break so easily. You don"t have to hold it so tightly.” I encouraged.

She loosened her grip, then held it lightly to her breast. “How can I ever thank Elizabeth ?”

“Mother, you will never know what your letters mean to her. She is alone much of the time because Zacharias is at the temple. She told me your letters are the things that bring her the most joy.”

“Then I shall write tomorrow and attempt to let her know just how much this gift means to me.”

When Leah saw the swaddling cloths she could now believe I really was going to have a baby. She held them next to the doll she carried. “These are so tiny, I thought they might fit my doll.” She smiled at me as though she could barely wait to put the clothes on a real, live baby.

The baby"s robes were larger than a newborn wore. We made them large, Elizabeth had stated, “because they stay little for such a short time.”

Included in the gifts were new robes for all of us. When I unwrapped a small package, I saw it contained three smaller containers. There was a set of gold combs and a necklace for my mother and a bracelet and necklace for me. For Leah, there was a ring and necklace. In another small parcel, Elizabeth had sent Father and Daniel new skullcaps with gold threads running through them.

After the gifts were examined closely, talking primarily of the bowl, our visitors wished us good night. They left us, saying, “so you might eat without feeling you must offer food to us.” Laughing, they teased Mother about spilling so much there wouldn"t be enough to feed all of them anyway.

She smiled, recognizing their thoughtfulness in leaving for what it was...a chance to spend time with the daughter who had returned after a long absence.

“Come, you must eat.” Mother exclaimed. “We shall enjoy our gifts after the meal. Mary, there"s water just outside the door if you"d like to wash.”

I stepped into a container of water near the door of our home and cleansed my feet for the first time in days, then went inside to my beloved home to wash my hands and face.

As I looked around the room at the tables and bushels and lamps, I felt wrapped in a warm cocoon. Home. I said silent prayers of thanks to God for bringing me back to my beloved home.

As in most Jewish homes, we women ate with the men when there were no guests. Returning to the table, I noticed Mother fussing over the stew.

“Oh, I just know it"s too cold to eat.” My mother cried. “I should reheat it.”

“Sit, my dear,” Father ordered, with laughter. “We can eat cold stew once in awhile. It isn"t every day our daughter returns to us.”

We held hands, as I thought my heart would break from the happiness of being one of a circle with my family again. Especially fervent prayers of Thanksgiving were given for my safe return. The food was blessed and we dipped our bread into the stew. How wonderful it tasted. To eat my mother"s stew again was better than all the fancy dishes I tasted at Elizabeth"s.

I was afraid to ask about Joseph and decided to wait until morning. We sat and talked for so long the braying of the donkey made us realize he was hungry too. Daniel and Leah jumped up and led him to the cave for food and water.

“Don"t say a word until we return,” Daniel instructed.

I laughed. “I won"t.”

By the time they returned the night had fallen, and father lit a lamp. A half moon peeked through the tree overhead splattering the table with prisms of light. Leaves whispered, insects rustled through fallen leaves and a night bird softly called.

The weather was pleasantly cool as we sat around the table to talk of my journey.

I began by telling them of the bathroom. Daniel"s eyes widened with wonder and he accused me of teasing them. I finished by telling of the sanitary facilities. They refused to believe that a room in a home was used for such. Finally, I could talk no more.

We stayed up much later than usual and I was weary. I hadn"t placed my pallet near my mother and father since I was a child, but tonight I needed to feel they were there.

As they settled down, Mother"s quiet, even breathing was a prelude to Father"s snoring. I closed my eyes, but I was too weary and troubled for sleep. There was so much thinking to do. Now that I was home, problems must be solved.

Before I even realized I was falling asleep, daylight crept into the house. I awoke and rose as quietly as possible. I picked up the ewer and walked outside.

The sun was inching its way over the horizon and I knew others would be up soon. The familiarity of our street made me feel I was finally home. For now, the peace and quiet was so wonderful I wanted to move slowly and enjoy that serenity. I knew that soon the village would come to life.

I smiled as I remembered the many years I woke to these particular sounds of our village. The women roused their children and husbands. The sound of prayers came from some of the homes. Orders for the day were given and children fought, sang, laughed and played on their way to school. Husbands hitched plows to their animals.

They then made their way to the fields, whistling or singing or just talking.

As I walked over the familiar path to the well, I felt I remembered each stone. Every tree sang especially to me this glorious morning. The air was filled with the odor of my favorite vine, the honeysuckle. Other vines, flowers, shrubs and trees added their own particular scents.

I looked toward the mountains and saw the mist that hung there like a veil over a woman"s face.

When I took the last turn in the pathway, there was Sarah. Dear, dear Sarah. We dropped our jugs and clung to each other, weeping for happiness.

“I heard you were home.” Her voice quivered. “I"ve missed you so much. You missed my wedding and...”

Tears were streaming down her face, mingling with mine as we clung to each other.

I pushed the black hair from her doll-like face.

“Oh, Sarah, I wanted to be with you.” I cried. “On your wedding day, I was so lonely. I knew you thought I had abandoned you. I couldn"t.”

She drew back and looked at me. What she saw there must have reassured her. She knew I hadn"t changed. She also knew my problems weren"t solved.

“Oh, Mary, will you ever tell me what the problem is?” Her eyes, as well as her voice, pleaded.

At just that moment, we heard other women arriving and knew we could not talk further. As the newcomers neared the well, many spoke of the gifts they saw the night before. Others asked if they could come to see them.

They were invited, of course.

Meantime, Sarah picked up her jug, washed the sand from it, filled it and placed it on her shoulder. “As soon as my husband leaves for the fields...”

“It sounds so strange to hear you speak of a husband,” I said, then laughed and grabbed her hand. “Come to my house. I"ll explain everything.”

I picked up my jug as she agreed, “I will.”

I cleaned the sand from my jug, too. I filled it, placed it on my shoulder and realized just how out of practice I was at doing this. Some of the water even spilled on my shoulder.

She was watching and laughed. “Clumsy you,” she teased, turned and walked away.

I didn"t try to catch up with her. I needed the few minutes alone on the way home to get my thoughts in order.

The other ladies were still talking around the well as I walked slowly in her footsteps, my head lowered to watch where I stepped.

“Mary.” The quiet voice of Joseph startled me so I dropped my jug and all the water spilled.

“Now see what you"ve done!” My voice held more annoyance than I could control. “I"ll have to get more.”

We weren"t supposed to meet like this. I hadn"t planned it this way. I kept my eyes on the ground as I stooped.

“Please, Mary. Look at me.” His voice was low, but I could tell by his tone of voice he was hurting as much as I.

“Joseph,” I said, my voice not quite steady. “I have to get more water.” I picked up my jug and stood erect.

As I rose, he caught my arm. “Mary, you can"t just go off like that. I must talk with you.” His voice was ragged.

I lifted my eyes to meet his. Tears glistened and threatened to roll down his cheeks. I had seen him angry, stubborn, yelling and stamping his feet. Over the years I had never seen him with tears in his eyes. My resolve broke.

“Oh, Joseph.” I wanted him to hold me. If we had not been standing in the pathway of several women watching the scene, I would have flung myself into his arms. We parted to let the women walk between us.

They stared at the both of us, then walked on, their heads close together. I knew they were talking about us, but for once I didn"t care if I was the target of their gossip.

Joseph asked, “Mary, when and where can we talk?”

“As soon as the men leave for the fields, Sarah is coming to our home. Why don"t we meet at the olive grove after the noon hour? Mother has her afternoon rest at that time.”

He held out his hand and grabbed mine. “I"ll be there.” He said. I pushed his hand away, turned and retraced my steps to the well. For the second time that morning, I washed and refilled my jug.

When I arrived home, I felt I had not been away for almost three months. There was Mother, sitting at the table, waiting for her morning cup of fresh water. “I noticed the jug gone, so I knew you were up early again,” she remarked, with a smile.

I poured a cup of water, set it on the table in front of her, then hugged her tightly. “You don"t know how good it makes me feel to be able to get fresh water for you.” I leaned over and kissed her.

After our morning ritual of seeing to the morning meal, Leah and Daniel reluctantly left for school and Father walked to the fields. Mother and I cleaned the table, rolled up the mats and put them away. I then returned to the well to bring extra water to wash our clothing, especially mine.

As we finished getting them placed in the sun to dry, I said. “Sarah"s coming soon. We"d like to go for a walk.

Please wait until I return before grinding wheat today.”

“Oh, Mary. You don"t have to worry about that. Some of the women and I shared our grinding, and now we have flour for a few more days. Please, visit with your friend. You"ve missed each other, I know.”

I washed myself, changed clothes and talked with Mother until Sarah arrived.