The next day, after the children were in school and the others with Grandparents, Jesus and I walked toward the hills. As we climbed, I prayed God would put the right words into my mouth. We stopped on the hill where Sarah and I often met and talked.
We looked out over the horizon. Hills climbed like stair steps into the heavens. Wispy clouds blanketed the tops, then floated away and dissipated. The sun rose majestically, splattering the rocks and boulders with light.
Tinkling of a bell reminded us that sheep were grazing nearby. Looking down toward the bottom of the mountains, we saw men following donkeys as they plowed.
The weather had cooled somewhat, so we were able to enjoy a slight breeze which flitted around, ruffling blossoms and leaves of flowers. The brightly colored blooms bowed, straightened, then shook, reminding one of dancing children.
“Come, Jesus, sit beside me.” I patted a rock that looked as though millions had sat on it at one time or another.
He sat, his long legs drawn up almost to his chin, as we both gazed around us.
The beauty of red poppies and yellow and white daisies looked like an artist had been at work with his paints and brushes on a giant canvas. The flowers were bright splotches of color against the green of the grass and the slate grey of the hills.
Trees clung to the sides of the mountains, displaying their different shades of greens. Looking out toward the East, the Sea of Galilee reminded me of a looking-glass painted sky blue, it was so smooth.
“How beautiful!” I exclaimed.
“Yes, it is.” Jesus said, but I knew His mind was not on the beauty of the flowers, the mountains or even the sea, but on what I would tell Him.
After we made ourselves comfortable, I took his hand and said. “My dear Jesus, I hardly know how to tell you this. Joseph and I tried so many times to make you aware of your situation...”
“What situation?” He interrupted.
“I"m getting to that. We tried to tell you, but we simply did not know how.”
“Mother!” He was getting a little impatient and I really didn"t blame Him.
“I"m sorry.” I looked to the heavens. “Jesus, You are the natural Son of God.”
Jesus looked at me as though I had lost my mind, removed His hand from mine and said, rather shortly, “Of course, I"m God"s son. Everyone is.”
“No, my dear Child, You don"t understand.” This was much more difficult than I thought it would be. I took a deep breath and my hands shook. “You are God"s natural Son. I carried you in my womb, Jesus, but God planted that seed.”
“But how...?” His voice trailed away as he ducked his head in confusion. I could tell my fourteen year old son was very embarrassed that He should be speaking of such matters with His Mother.
“Jesus, you must listen to me.” I reached up and gently turned his head so I could look deeply into His eyes.
“Don"t let anything else intrude.”
He stared at me as though He saw into my very soul.
“One night, when I was just one year older than you are now, I was sleeping on our roof. An Angel, Gabriel, came to me. He told me I had been chosen to be the Mother of God"s Son.”
Jesus looked at me rather strangely, then stared out over the valleys below. “I"ve always thought I was different,” he stated uncertainly. “I just didn"t know how different.”
He picked up my hand, rather as if it were His lifeline. “Will you tell me everything?”
I related the entire story, omitting the fact that Joseph had not believed me. I told about the trip to Elizabeth and her pregnancy with John. I sloughed over the way the villagers gossiped about me.
I then told him of our trip to Bethlehem.
“Just like the prophecy that said God"s son would come out of Bethlehem,” he stated in such a low voice I could barely hear.
“We discussed, months before your birth, about the prophecy that stated the Savior would be born in Bethlehem.”
We both stared at a farmer tilling his soil and watched the sun glittering on the sea which now showed small white caps. He sat as still as the stones of the hills. I didn"t know what was going through his mind and I certainly had no way of knowing how He would or could accept this information.
A bird tweeted above us. Our thoughts interrupted, we both looked up for a moment, then stared toward the Sea as I continued. “After your birth, Benjamin and Ruth offered Joseph a job at the caravansary. We decided to stay because financial conditions were so bad in Nazareth.
“We were happy while we lived there, but almost two years later, three men, called the Magi, came to visit you.”
“I don"t understand.”
“They"re wise men who live in Eastern countries.”
“I"ve heard of them,” Jesus said. “They study the stars, the prophets and the sacred word.” His voice was low, as though he were thinking aloud. “But why come to visit me? How could they have known about me?”
“They had studied the scriptures all their lives, and had studied the stars since becoming astrologers.
Apparently, they always looked for a sign that the Son of God was born. All three apparently reached the same conclusions at the same time in different parts of the world.”
Jesus was stunned. “How did they get to Bethlehem together, if they were from different countries?”
“The all met in one city...how, I don"t know, but they decided to complete their journey together.”
“So they found me. What did they do?”
“They fell down on their knees and worshiped you...”
“Oh, no,” He wailed, His voice filled with despair.
“They brought you Gold, Frankincense and Myrrh.” I took a deep breath, then added, “Jesus, I have it put away for You in a safe place. When You need those gifts, they will be waiting.”
The lines in Jesus" forehead deepened, making him look more like an old man than my young son. “Why would they bring gifts to me?”
“Because You were the Son of God.”
He nodded in understanding.
I wanted desperately for Him to look at me, but He continued to stare into the distant hills. Birds flitted nearby.
A sheep"s bell tinkled and leaves rustled at our feet. An animal, I forget what, stopped his running, looked at us, then went on his way.
Softly, He asked. “Is there more, Mother?”
“Yes.” I too, looked out over the expanse. I saw only the timeless hills and the trees. They swayed in the slight breeze that caressed our faces, now and then. A couple of ships were now on the Sea of Galilee. They must be fishermen, I thought.
“The Magi warned us that Herod had heard about You and wanted You dead.”
“Why would Herod want a Baby dead?” Jesus turned His head and stared at me in confusion.
“Because he thought You were going to take over his throne.” I attempted to make my voice as noncommittal as possible.
“A baby?” Jesus was appalled. “A baby take over a throne?”
“Apparently, he"s always been a little mad. You"ve studied about him in school.”
He nodded.
“By the end of his life, he was more than a little mad. Most think he was totally mad. Anyway, he was very frightened that You would take over his throne, so he ordered you killed.”
“That poor man,” Jesus said. “He must have been the most unhappy man alive.”
I nodded. I had no idea Jesus would take this attitude.
We sat in stillness, I barely breathing, Jesus thinking deeply. Suddenly, He took my hand in His and held it tightly. “Oh, Mother, I"m so sorry you had to go through all that for me.” And His voice held so much care and concern, I was humbled.
“You were worth every pain, physical and mental.” I leaned over and kissed him lightly on the cheek, then continued. “Going back to the story. We started home from Bethlehem but the angel came to Joseph that night.”
Jesus looked at me with a strange expression. “I remember now.” His voice was distant, almost as though he were dreaming rather than speaking aloud. “I talked to Gabriel. All these years, I thought it was just a dream.”
“Yes, you did talk to him.” I held Jesus" hand tightly, wanting to never let go. “He told us to go to Egypt...to get out of Herod"s reach. As much as we wished to go home, we left Bethlehem and began our journey to Egypt.
That"s when we met Abner.”
“Good old Uncle Abner.” His voice was full of anguish. “I really wish we could have let him know about Father.”
“I do too, Jesus.”
“He has always been so good to us. Almost like he was one of the family.”
I laughed. “He told us one time he had no family of his own, so he was adopting us.” I looked at Jesus who was staring, unseeing across the expanse. “He did love your Father, Jesus, and I know he will be heartbroken when he returns.”
“I"m glad he adopted us. We always seem to need him, don"t we?” The irony in this young man"s voice astounded me.
“We do need Abner. He is a wonderful man, whom your father had a great deal of respect for.”
Jesus was silent for a few moments, then said, “Did anything else happen?”
I nodded. “Quite a lot, in fact.”
“Why did we come home?” He looked toward the heavens, a dreamy expression on His face.
“When Herod died, the angel again came to Joseph and told him we could return home.”
Jesus voice was low and he spoke slowly. “I remember talking to Gabriel then, too.”
“Yes, You did.” Remembering, it seemed only yesterday when we lived in Egypt and Gabriel visited us. “You had the most delightful giggle each time the two of you communicated.”
Jesus smiled, the first smile I had seen today. It was so beautiful I wanted to weep, but I continued. “Soon after we reached home, James was born. You decided You would take care of him and all the babies that came later.”
His smile was one of almost parental pride at the thought of the children He was helping to raise. “And I shall take care of them from now on, Mother.”
“Son, you must have a life of your own.” I protested. “So many young ladies already have their eyes on you.”
“I have too much to do to consider marriage, I think.” Anguish broke my heart.
He stared toward the Jesreel Valley, which lies at the bottom of the hills. “I now understand how I could dispute with the Priests in Jerusalem. At the time, I wondered how I knew so much. Since then, I"ve tried to forget what I knew.” A bird"s song broke the silence and Jesus smiled...the first happy smile I had seen today.
“Now, I can learn everything possible and not be ashamed.”
“Oh, Jesus,” I cried, kissing the hand I held. “I want you to have a normal life. I want to see you happy. I want to see you marry. I want to be a grandmother to your children.”
He stood, then smiled down at me and the sun, silhouetted around his head resembled a crown.
“Mother, it"s not to be.” Suddenly, He sounded like the adult. “We shall speak of this another time.” My fourteen year old son pulled Himself even taller and looked into the Heavens. The expression on his face turned to one of anguish. “God, why?” He cried aloud. Tears ran down his face. “Why?” He flung Himself into my arms, weeping loudly, gasping for breath at the enormity of His knowledge.
I clasped Him to me and my tears ran into His thick dark hair. “The day you were conceived,” I said quietly.
“My mother said she hoped I would not be the girl chosen as the Mother of the Savior of the world.”
His sobs quietened and he put his head in my lap, stretched out onto the rock and looked at me. “Why would she not want you to be My Mother?”
“Jesus,” I wiped a splotch of dirt-filled tears from his cheek. “Mother wanted her daughters to have a normal life. She wanted to be able to be a grandparent to all her grandchildren for as long as she lived. She didn"t want us to leave home.” I picked up a blade of grass struggling to grow on the hillside and placed it in my mouth.
“And you had to go so far away she couldn"t even be with her First Grandson when He was a baby.” Jesus stated in a sad, dispirited manner.
“No, but she has enjoyed you every day of your life since that time.”
“I love her dearly.” He lay looking at the heavens as though He could see clear through everything to His Heavenly Father.
I had no idea what He was thinking, until He said, very quietly. “Mother, I"m so frightened! How can I endure what I must?” He twisted in my lap, his eyes staring up at me...fright, anger, anguish. Many more expressions than I knew how to describe crossed his wonderful, caring face.
“What do you mean, Jesus?”
“I"ve read the scriptures. We have copies of King David"s Psalms. I"ve studied them for years.” He abruptly sat up, then stood. As his head turned toward the sky, His voice was so quiet I could barely hear him as He spoke.
“I know what is going to happen to me.”
I grabbed his hand and pulled myself up beside Him. “What do you mean, Jesus?”
“I know I will die on the cross.”
“No, Jesus!” I cried aloud to the heavens. “No! I"ll take you away like we did when we went to Egypt.”
“Mother.” His voice was as deep as an adult"s. “You know we can"t run away from God.” His speech slowed, then resumed. “He"s My Father. My work was given to me before I left Heaven.”
“Oh, Jesus, I love you so much.” I held Him tightly, wanting to stop the inevitable.
Quietly, but firmly, he disentangled Himself from my arms.
“I think I"d like us to pray now, Mother.”
As we prayed, we held each other and my tears mingled with His. He prayed for the strength and wisdom to do what God had sent Him to earth for.
We quietly walked back down the hills to our home, where everything was changed...for Him and for me.
• • •
Abner and Jeremiah were heartbroken when they found out about Joseph. After that, neither came near Nazareth without visiting us. They never knew how much we enjoyed their company and waited impatiently for their next sojourn.They eventually combined their routes by Jeremiah working in the north sector of Samaria. Abner"s route ran south, through Jerusalem to the Great Sea. They met in Nazareth to exchange goods.
In this manner, each made fewer journeys but the goods transported became even more exotic.
Once, I asked them to explain some of the goods they transported. The three of us sat in the courtyard after a large meal, with excellent wine Abner provided. Streaks of pink, gray and silver looked like a master artist had swiped his brush across the sky as the end of day neared.
Looking up, the limbs of the pomegranate tree were silhouetted against that spectacular sky. Trees emitted odors which mingled with drifting honeysuckle scents. It was so pleasant I felt wrapped in a cocoon of safety.
“Well, Mary,” Jeremiah remarked. “You"ve tried some of the different types of food we carry.”
“Yes, the artichokes and pickled fish. The pickled fish didn"t impress me too much.” I wrinkled my nose and laughed, remembering when they brought those for our family to try. None of the children ate them, either.
“I liked the Balm, perfumes and spices, though.” I said.
“You would,” Abner remarked dryly. “We send those to other parts of the world from Judea, Arabia and India.”
He picked up his wine and sipped. When he set the goblet back on the table, he continued. “That purple dye was made from sea snails.”
“I know,” I said. “When we were in Egypt Naomi told me all about it.”
Jeremiah laughed. “Transporting the dye is one of our most lucrative products. Another is the Ivory you saw on our last trip.”
“I almost envy both of you.” I lifted the wine skin and refilled our containers. “You don"t go to as many exotic places any more,” I remarked, “but you"re able to bring the new products into our part of the world anyway.”
The sun lowered to the edge of the horizon and only a haze of different colors...grey, pink, blue...lingered in the sky. Darkness came to Nazareth rapidly after the sun went down. “Yes, we"re very fortunate.” Abner agreed, then yawned.
“Are we keeping you up?” I teased.
Jeremiah rose. “We"ve both stayed much too late.” He placed his goblet on the table. “I must get an early start in the morning. “Coming Abner?”
“Yes.” He rose and stretched as the children converged on the table.
Both kissed me lightly on the cheek, then bid farewell to the children. I went inside, thinking what a blessing it was to have such dear friends to watch out for us.
The following year, I noticed Jesus especially. He had become quite paternal toward his brothers and sisters.
Most of them relied on him much as they would have Joseph. There was another reason I noticed Jesus a little more closely, too.
Hanna"s girl friend, Miriam, was a happy-go-lucky creature that laughed at everything as though life were her play-ground. She was rather tall and willowy with long, expressive hands. Her dark brown hair surrounded a face with a small nose, large, wide-set blue twinkling eyes and a generous mouth. Darkened skin was as smooth and flawless as the silk cloth Jeremiah brought from the far east.
Miriam decided Jesus was the man she needed for a husband and went after Him with quiet determination. She seldom flirted, but there was no way He could ignore her.
Since her knowledge of the scriptures was almost as extensive as Jesus", she often debated Him. Soon, he started conversations with her when she visited. His brothers and sisters teased Jesus about her, and He never seemed to mind, but He also never asked her to go for a walk.
One day, when He left the house soon after a meal, she quietly followed. Looking toward the hills, I saw the two of them talking. Jesus bent toward her and she said something as she wiped His chin. He threw back his head in a hearty laugh and grabbed her hand. They skipped over rocks, laughing like small children.
I smiled, hoping Jesus had been wrong when He said He would never be interested in a girl or marry.
They were together constantly. One night He told me they were going for a walk. I was thrilled, but said nothing.
When he arrived home a little later, I wondered what happened.
“Jesus, are you all right?” I called from the doorway. He was slumped over the table outside, his head on his arms. Walking out the door, I noticed the moon had cast a glow over the entire courtyard. Stones looked as sleek as a newly sheared sheep. The movement of leaves was so faint, they made no sound.
He raised His head and I saw newly dried tears on His face.
“What"s wrong?” I tried not to show my distress. “How can I help?” I sat at the table with Him, waiting.
“I had to tell Miriam I couldn"t marry her.” He raised His head and looked straight at me. “She is so beautiful and I love her so much. I wanted to take her in my arms.” His voice was ragged as a tear welled in His eye.
“I"ve never fought temptation like I did tonight. I wanted to ask her to become my betrothed.”
“I don"t understand, Jesus. If you love her so much, why didn"t you ask her? We would love having her in our family.”
His eyes were sorrowful as he looked at me. “Mother, when we had our talk, I told you I couldn"t marry. God has much more important tasks for me to accomplish.” His voice ended in a quiver, and He dropped His head on His arms as sobs shook His body.
“My dear child.” I gathered His head in my arms and held Him as sobs eventually quietened. He raised His head and I wiped tears from His face.
“Mother,” his voice shook, but was under control. “I do love her, but I have to give her up in order to do the work I was sent to do. I pray she will be happy with someone else.” His voice ended in the most sorrowful note I"ve ever heard.
Long after, we went inside. I"m sure He didn"t sleep for many nights because I heard Him tossing in His bed. I know I slept little, because there was nothing I could do, except pray for Him.
• • •
The children continued to build as many of the pieces of baby furniture as possible for Jeremiah to sell. As long as we had money to live on from their regular salary working in the shop, then I refused to take any from the pieces of furniture they sold.They foxed me, however. One day, when we were having our evening meal, they laid money in front of me.
“What"s this? Where did you get this money?”
James said. “We had a meeting and decided since you will not take any of the money from the extra sales, then we will have to give it to you. We tithe to God, therefore, we feel we owe you the very same amount.”
I started to protest.
“Mother, we are all going to need many things before we leave home,” James said. “We also know you have few savings left from Father"s work.”
Hannah spoke. “We want to be sure there will be enough for every boy to have a Bar Mitzvah. Our brothers said they want Rachel and me to have a dowry, as well as nice betrothals and weddings. If you keep the money, we know it will be there for all of us.”
I could barely believe my children were as wonderful as they really were. I raised my eyes, clasped my hands and said, “Thank you, God, for the most wonderful children in the world.”
“When the dishes aren"t done very well Mother, remember that.” Rachel remarked dryly. She grinned, breaking the seriousness of the talk.
• • •
The entire family still journeyed to Jerusalem for the Passover. Jeremiah, as well as Abner, accompanied us to Bethlehem where Ruth and Matthew always had room for us.Since our family was now so large, Ruth and Matthew closed the rooms they normally rented. They made sleeping arrangements for the family, however many arrived. Therefore, after greeting each other, we talked for hours.
This year, as I sat in the large room of the caravansary I felt as though Joseph should walk in and begin hammering or sawing or cutting something to repair or build anew. What wonderful memories remained here.
“What do you hear of John?” I asked.
“He"s become a member of a religious sect, the Nazirites.” Matthew said. Though his hair was greying, he was still a roly-poly man with laughter wrinkles around his eyes.
“Exactly what is that?”
“It"s a very restrictive group. The members are only allowed to join by dedicating themselves solely to the Lord.”
“John has some strange ideas, from what I hear,” Ruth said, pouring hot water over tea leaves Jeremiah brought from the Far East. “He isn"t allowed to eat or drink anything from vines at all.”
“No juice?” I blurted.
“They don"t even use vinegar,” she said, handing me a cup of tea. She sat at the table, then continued. “They can"t eat the skin or even the seed of the grape.”
“I think Joseph spoke of that sect once.” I said, suddenly remembering the discussions we"d had of different religious groups. “Isn"t that the group Sampson was a part of?”
“I think so. They can"t shave, they can"t cut their hair, and they aren"t allowed to go near a dead person.” Ruth sounded like she was reciting. “Apparently, he became quite vocal in his denouncing of anything not of a religious nature.”
I shook my head and held my cup. “It"s so strange to hear that Elizabeth"s son joined a group like that. He"s sixteen now, three months older than Jesus, you know.”
“I didn"t know exactly how old he was,” she said, holding up the pot of tea, asking silently if I"d like more. I shook my head and sipped the hot liquid as Ruth continued. “It"s clear he became a solitary person while living in the desert. His relatives saw to his Bar Mitzvah, then he left their tents. He went into the hills of Judea, where he apparently met a group of these people.”
Matthew interrupted. “Whether it was the abruptness of his parents death or just what turned him in this direction, no one knows. He became enchanted with following God in every little jot and tittle of the Law.”
“Poor John. I do hope he"ll have a happy life, however he sees fit to live it.” I felt saddened by what I heard.
“His parents were such wonderful people.” I sipped my tea. “I remember Mother said something about Zacharias. He couldn"t speak because he questioned God when he was told that he and Elizabeth would have a son. But as soon as John was born, then named, Zacharias began talking.”
Ruth nodded.
“He then prophesied as to what John would become.” I shook my head, trying to recall what Mother said. “I just don"t remember her words exactly. I"ll have to ask when we get home.”
“How are your parents, Mary?” Ruth asked, looking around the room to see that everything was in readiness for the next onslaught of customers.
“They"re doing very well, as old as they are. It"s such a long journey here, they don"t try it any more. I"m happy knowing they"re home, taking care of each other, and resting.”
The next four years flew by.
Naomi and Benjamin met us in Bethlehem one year. We then walked to Jerusalem for the Passover Festivities.
They decided to return to Nazareth with us. They never had children and fell in love with my family. I talked with them about settling near us. They were getting older and I wanted to be able to take care of them, if they needed anything. They eventually decided to sell their home and move to Nazareth permanently.
Jesus became the Father of the family. He tried to teach the other boys how to do the work of the carpentry shop. He attempted to teach them how to repair everything made from wood.
All the boys seemed to soak up the knowledge and especially loved working in close proximity with their grandfather, except James. When he reached fifteen his resentment reached a level more pronounced than at any time since his and Joseph"s talk.
Seldom a week passed when he didn"t bring some story home of how badly Jesus treated him. He resented any instruction Jesus gave. James felt Jesus had no right to tell him, James, when he made a mistake.
Finally, it all exploded one afternoon.
I was outside sewing clothing for the children. I had been busy since daybreak and was very tired. James came down the path from the shop with a stormy look on his face. I knew my day was not going to end happily.
The sun bore through the trees, causing the stones of the courtyard to become so hot I felt I could almost bake our bread on them. Not a breath of air stirred the leaves. Even the birds were silent.
Before James reached me, he began. “Do you know what that Son of yours did?”His arms were flailing and the look in his dark eyes would have made a sandstorm look calm.
“Why don"t you get a drink of water, then tell me about it?”
“I don"t need any water.” His tone of voice was resentful as he flung himself on the bench and began. “I had just fixed a plow. Well,” and here he rose, his anger too much for him to sit still. His sarcasm was heavy as he spoke. “That precious One said it would not hold together because I hadn"t used new nails.” He darted to the door of the house, then back to the table.
“Was he right?”
“How should I know?” and he sat back down very hard. “Ask Him. He knows everything.” His tone of voice was belligerent.
I made a supreme effort to keep my voice calm as I shoved my sweat-dampened hair back. “James, I"m not asking anyone but you.” I picked up his hand and held it. “Would the plow have held together with the nails you used?”
His voice was sullen. “Probably not, but I was trying to save money.”
“Do you think we need to save money?”
“Well, we sure don"t have any. You"re always saying we have to be careful with our money.”
“James, look at me.” He turned his head slightly.
“Wasn"t your Bar Mitzvah just as nice as Jesus?”
He looked at me with a strange expression on his face. “I had forgotten. Yes, it was.”
“Have you ever been denied anythi