Soon after that event, I traveled to Cana to visit Leah. We had seen each other so little since she married, I was ashamed I had neglected her. Her children were, like mine, grown and had children of their own. Today, we gloried in our freedom from our families.
We sat outside, enjoying a cup of tea. As I looked over her yard, I was envious of the Lebanon Cedar growing in the center of the yard. It shaded everything. Little grew underneath, because few rays of the sun penetrated.
However, green sprigs of grass sprouted in patches. As we sat at her table beneath the tree, we could pretend we were young girls again. I discarded my sandals and stretched my toes, glorying in the feel of grass between my toes. She wiggled her sandals as well, grinning at me as she slipped them from her feet.
“Mary, have you heard what"s happened to John?”
“No.” I said. “The last I heard anything about him was when he baptized Jesus. I don"t even know where he went after that.”
“Then, you don"t know what"s happened to him,” she stated.
“No.”
“About ten months ago, Herod Antipas had him arrested.”
“Why?” I exclaimed, placing my cup on the table with a resounding clatter. “Preachers aren"t normally arrested, are they?”
Leah looked directly at me. “I heard that John"s following was so large, Herod saw John as a threat to his power. He"s been in jail ever since his arrest.”
“The last time I saw Jesus, He didn"t say anything about John"s incarceration.”
“Do you hear from him often, Mary?”
“Not as much as I"d like, but often enough, I suppose. Jesus said in His last letter that He received a letter from John. John wanted to know if He, Jesus, was the One who was to come.”
“Did Jesus answer the letter?”
I toyed with my sandals as the cool breeze blew around us. “Jesus sent word by others to tell John what his messengers saw and heard. „The blind see, the lame walk, the sick are cured, the hungry are fed."
“Did that satisfy John?” she asked.
“I don"t know. When Jesus was home last, He told me there was room for both kinds of messengers. The hot, fiery kind like His relative John, and Jesus" type... quiet, loving but emphatic.”
“John must have been in jail when he wrote.”
“Was he?” I sipped my tea. “I didn"t even know. Is there anything I can do for him?”
“Mary, John is dead.” Her voice was so quiet I thought I hadn"t heard correctly.
“What?” I sat up straight and stared at her in astonishment. “How did that happen?” I had always wanted to do so much for him, and I could never do anything.
Suddenly, I felt such a tremendous loss I wanted to scream, cry...anything. “But why would Herod do such a thing?”
“He accused Herodias, Herod"s wife, of being an adulteress.” Leah clasped her tiny hands around her knees, rocking back and forth.
“She was.” I stated. “Everyone knows that.”
“I know, but one doesn"t go around saying that about the ruler"s wife.” Leah spoke emphatically.
“I guess if you"re John, you do.” I ran my toes through the cool grass, bent over and picked a short leaf. “Can you tell me what happened?”
“There was a party at Herod"s house. Salome...you know who she is?”
“Herodias" daughter,” I answered, dryly. “She"s no better than her Mother.”
“True.” Leah agreed, then continued. “Salome did quite a sensuous dance for Herod. He was so entranced he told her she could have anything she wanted.”
“And I suppose she wanted John dead.” My heart was broken for this man who was the prophet for My Son.
“Not only dead, but her Mother told her to ask for his head on a platter.”
Astonishment is a mild word for my feelings. “Can that be true?”
Leah nodded emphatically. “It"s true. Herod was reluctant, but he had made the promise. He had John beheaded and the head brought to the banquet on a platter.”
“Oh, Leah, where is it going to end?” I cried.
She took my hand and held it tightly as a tear slid from her eyelid. “Mary, you and I both know how it will end and it breaks my heart.” I hung onto her hand as though it were my lifeline.
“Oh, Leah, you always were the realist.” I squeezed her hand, then dropped it. I spoke very slowly. “I don"t know if I can bear it.”
“You"re my big sister.” Her voice was artificially bright. “You can handle anything or God wouldn"t have chosen you.”
“I don"t know about that,” I murmured. Silence would have enveloped us, but birds twittered in the tree branches, bees buzzed among the flower blossoms and insects hopped in and out of grass.
“You know,” I said, looking through the intricate web of leaves, toward the sky. “The angel Gabriel told me the night Jesus was conceived, that I was blessed above all women. Sometimes I wonder.”
“You wouldn"t be quite human if you didn"t, Mary.” Leah stood, reached out her hand and pulled me up to stand beside her. “I"m sorry you"re going home in the morning. I"ll miss you.”
“I"ll miss you, too. I wish we had more time together.” And I hugged her to me tightly.
“So do I.” She laughed. “Well...in our next life.”
I seldom saw Leah because of our individual families, though we corresponded frequently.
In the next three years, I saw Jesus only a few times. Each time, I knew it might be the last, so I enjoyed those moments to the fullest.
A couple of times, when He was preaching in nearby Synagogues, all the children and I went to see Him. When we arrived, I told the man at the door who we were and that we"d like to see Jesus. He left the door open and we watched as he gave Jesus the message. Jesus glanced at us, his lip lifted in a faint smile and He said to the congregation. “Who is my mother? Who are my brothers and sisters?”
When James heard that, he was livid. He was ready to enter the synagogue and start a fight. I held his arm. I was so angry had he been young, I would have spanked him.
“James, what is your problem?” I really worked at controlling my exasperation.
“Didn"t you hear? He rejected us...totally.” Surprisingly, he kept his voice low as he flung his arms about, fury etched on his face.
“James, when will you ever learn?” I was so annoyed with James I hardly knew where to start. “Use your head.
He used us to teach a valuable lesson to those people.”
“And just what did He teach?” James" voice was sarcastic.
“He was teaching them that everyone in the world is your mother, brother and sister and that we should all look out for each other.” I glared at James, who had settled down somewhat. “He"ll be out to see us as soon as He is finished with the lesson.”
It wasn"t too long and Jesus was in the midst of his family, greeting, hugging, kissing...very, very happy to see all of us. James was thoughtful as he contemplated what Jesus said.
Later, so many things were reported to me. I heard of the people He healed and the ones He brought back to life. People informed me of the blind whom He made to see and the lame who walked after Jesus blessed them.
I heard of Mary Magdalene whom he cured of demons that possessed her body.
I kept those things in my heart, along with the memories of the Shepherds and the Magi. I remembered clearly the Angel talking with Joseph and me. The gifts from the Magi were a blessing. The money from their sale had aided me in rearing my children.
During the years, I managed to stretch the money Joseph and I saved, as well as the gifts of the Magi. Combined with the money the children contributed until they married, it lasted until our last child had a home of her own.
Since that time, Jesus gave the money he earned in the shop to me. He said he wanted to ensure I was cared for when He left. There was enough to live on for awhile, but I knew it couldn"t last forever.
I became so independent, I hated to think I might have to depend on my children for my livelihood.
Soon after Jesus began His ministry, I discovered a talent that brought in a little money...enough that I could support myself, I hoped.
Since childhood, I loved writing letters. Over the years I wrote to my Mother when I was away from home. I wrote to Elizabeth for awhile, then Ruth and Matthew as well as Naomi and Benjamin. Others...family and friends who had moved away received letters, verses and scriptures from me occasionally.
I loved the scriptures, especially the Psalms and Proverbs. I wrote similar verses when we lived in Egypt and gave them as gifts. Now, I wrote more and more. Since I had little money, I gave these as gifts for birthdays, and other occasions. After awhile, people asked me to write something for them to use as a gift. I complied. I didn"t charge for them, not realizing they were a commodity.
One day I was working on my verses when Abner appeared. Scrolls covered the table.
“What"s this?” He asked, picking up a verse I had composed for a young man"s Bar Mitzvah.
“Just something I enjoy doing.” I answered, attempting to straighten the mess and clean the table so he could sit.
“What do you do with them?” He asked.
When I told him, he got a thoughtful look on his face. “Could you write some and let me take them with me?”
“Whatever for?” I finished the verse and looked up at him.
“I might be able to sell some for you.”
I was so astonished I hardly knew what to say. Since that time, he had sold many verses for me. The verses brought in little money, but I kept it and only used what I needed for sustenance. I stored the rest.
Jesus traveled for almost three years. He preached, and healed who knew how many people? His trips home were so infrequent, each was a joyous occasion. I treasured them more than any precious stone.
Once when He came, we walked toward the olive grove. This was the place Joseph loved. Jesus and I felt near Joseph whenever we walked here.
This day, the sky was gloomy and overcast. Usually, the gnarled limbs of the olive trees were like old friends.
Today, they just seemed like appendages of a misshapen, ugly, ancient dead tree. The earth was stilled, and I shivered. A few insects moved occasionally but the birds must have found a haven from a storm I felt was near.
Jesus told me something of his travels. “Mother, do you remember many years ago when I told you I met Peter?”
I nodded, glancing at the sullen sky.
“He and his family treat me as one of their own. They make me feel very special.”
“Oh, Jesus, it isn"t right you can"t stay home and carry your message from here.” I was so distressed. “I hate it that you are more welcome at Peter"s home than you are in Nazareth.”
He nodded. “Isn"t it true, Mother? No one is welcome in his own home town...especially if he"s different.” He looked at me as if He were expecting an answer...and I had none. I was too ashamed of my people.
I stumbled over a rock hidden in the arid sand. He grabbed my arm. “Are you all right?”
“I"m just fine, Jesus.” I straightened my robe, which had pulled up when I stumbled. “It makes me sad to know people here feel You are a danger to them.”
“I probably am.” He said, bending and picking up a twig. “When I go into a town, there are always Pharasees or Priests who throw difficult questions at me.” He laughed, a touch of bitterness in His voice. “Sometimes, they threaten to throw stones.”
“What do you do when they ask impossible questions?”
“So far, my Father in Heaven tells me what to say. Or maybe I knew it from long ago. I just don"t know.” His voice hardened. “Sometimes I feel so very human...angry, tired, sad, hurt, disgusted.”
“Shouldn"t you be allowed those emotions?” I searched His dear face. “Isn"t that why You were sent? So you could understand MAN?”
He stared into the distance. I knew He saw much further than any human ever could. His voice was low, intense. “I know I"m a part of God. I know I should throw off the shackles of being human and become more than human...” His voice trailed off into silence, until finally He said, with deep sadness. “It"s so incredibly hard.”
I took his hand, squeezed it and held it tenderly.
“You know You will though. Don"t you?” I kept my voice as quiet and noncommittal as possible.
“Yes.” His head bowed and I could barely hear as he continued. “It won"t be long now, Mother. My time is very near.”
Before I could stop myself, I cried, “Oh, No.”
He took me in His arms as though he were the Father and I the child. “Mother.” He tilted my face so He could look directly into my eyes. “I can never tell you how much I appreciate what you"ve done all my life on this earth. I hate the hurt you must endure because you do love Me so much.”
“Oh, Jesus,” I fiercely clung to Him.
“But I must return Home.”
A flash of lightening rent the sky and thunder roared in the distance.
“I know.” Incredible sadness engulfed me. I said, moving out of those protective arms. “I know You have to go.
I know how You will go, but my dear Son, I shall be with You as long as I can.”
“My pain will be less because you"ll be there for me,” He said, as the first rain drops fell. He glanced toward the sky, grabbed my hand and we walked rapidly toward home.
Each day after that was a blessing, yet a curse...His time was drawing so near and I couldn"t stop it.
• • •
One day, when Abner visited, we climbed into my beloved hills. As we sat I felt we could see to the ends of the earth. The Sea of Galilee glistened far below, where sails were busily bobbing up and down. The tinkle of a sheep"s bell was near and a shepherd raised his voice in song.The sky felt so near it seemed I could pluck a fleecy cloud from it. The scent of a pine tree wafted around us as we chose our favorite spot to view the world.
As we made ourselves comfortable, he told me of being on the edge of the Sea of Galilee when he saw a miracle. Jesus and His disciples were in Peter"s boat when a storm arose.
“Mary,” Abner said, “that was one of the worst storms I have ever seen. The water was still and quiet. All of a sudden, the wind came up. Black and grey clouds covered the sun. Those clouds rolled around like devils playing in the sky. A black arm snaked out of the cloud, almost touching the waves, then flew back into the mass. Lightening split the clouds, and thunder rolled.
“It frightened me terribly, but I knew there was nothing I could do for those fishermen. The boat rolled as though it could not stay on top of another wave. Suddenly,” and he looked at me as he helped me over a rock, then stopped. “the storm ended as abruptly as it began. The sun came out and all the clouds disappeared, almost within the twinkling of an eye.”
“How strange.”
“That isn"t the strangest part, Mary.” Abner said, as we reached the rock we usually sat on. “I looked at the boat and Jesus stood on the bow with His arms raised. He had stopped the storm.”
Neither of us spoke for a moment. I tried to assimilate yet another miracle. Abner hardly believed what he saw.
Suddenly, we heard a lamb bleating. Soon a shepherd heard also, and came to rescue the animal. He saw us, raised his hat, picked up the sheep and moved to rejoin his flock.
The green of the grass in this springtime was thick and succulent. Poppies rose here and there, throwing red over the landscape. Thistles bloomed, their white lacy blossoms almost ready to be blown by the wind. A few trees stood amongst the rocks, spindly and crooked. But the sun winked through the limbs of the trees, an artist putting light and dark on the canvas of rocks.
I pulled at a grass sprig beside the rock, removed it and stuck it in my mouth. “Abner, the more I hear, the more I know Jesus is nearing the end of His life.” I fought tears, not wanting Abner to see them. Abner reached and turned my face toward him. He wiped a spilled tear from my cheek.
“Mary, I can be there for you when it happens. We"ve been friends for so many years. Friends stick together when there"s a need.”
I reached out and caught his hand. “What a dear man you are, Abner,” I said. “I wish we could be more than friends, but it isn"t to be.”
“I don"t think so either.” He held my hand a moment, then looked far off. “Mary, look over there, toward the Sea.”
It was almost as though by talking about a storm had caused one to materialize. “We"d better hurry,” I said, “or we"re going to get very wet.”
He held my hand as we rushed down the mountain. We ran and barely reached my door when the deluge began.
I warmed the chicken stew from the night before. Vegetables were getting a little soggy, but they were still good. Bread made with locusts which Abner liked so well, was cut, awaiting us. He asked God"s blessing and we again talked.
We sat in the safety of my home, ate our mid-day meal and watched the storm rage outside.
“Abner, it"s only two weeks until Passover. I"m going to Jerusalem this year.” I ladled more of the stew into his bowl. I placed it in front of him, then sat.
“You haven"t been for three years. Why now?” He asked, then dipped bread into his bowl and brought it to his mouth.
“I have a feeling this is the time of Jesus" death. I must be there for Him.”
“Why do you think this, Mary? Any special reason?”
The rumble of thunder was directly over my house. The crack of lightning preceded it, sounding as though it hit one of the trees in the courtyard. We barely glanced out the door, we were so absorbed in our conversation.
“I don"t know, Abner. I just feel compelled to go. Is there a caravan going any time soon?”
“Why do you want to leave early?” He chewed thoughtfully, awaiting my answer.
“I don"t know. I don"t want to go with the rest of my family. I don"t feel like being in a crowd of people.” I looked at Abner and asked a very sincere question. “Abner, I have neglected my other children for Jesus, haven"t I?”
“I don"t think so, Mary.”
“Be honest, Abner. I sometimes feel as though I"m not a normal Mother or Grandmother, for that matter.” I broke off a piece of bread. “I don"t sit waiting for the moment a child or grandchild comes to my door. When they visit I"m happy. I love all of them dearly, but I like being alone or with people of my choice.”
“I don"t think that"s such a bad thing. You"re a person too, Mary. I think that"s one of the lessons Jesus is teaching. Many of the people who follow Him are women. They are welcomed, whether they are sinners or not.”
“Yes, I heard about Mary Magdalene.”
“Do you approve of what Jesus did?” Abner asked.
“Of course. Like He also said one time in my hearing, „I didn"t come to save the righteous, but the sinners." So I definitely approve of His idea that women are equal with men. There is only one area He felt women should not lead.”
“What was that?”
“There were so many areas of His work a women could do. He felt men should always lead the religious services.” I toyed with my bread, not wanting any more food.
I looked at Abner, wanting to know the truth. “But this isn"t answering my question. Have I neglected the others? Should I be on call for them every minute of the day and night? Or should I be a person of my own?”
“You shouldn"t have to be sitting and waiting to do something for the children to feel useful. You probably do more for the rest of this village than any other person who lives here.”
“Just visiting and taking food to people who need it really isn"t much.” I smiled at him, though he knew I meant each word. “You know I guard my privacy with tenacity.”
He laughed as he chewed a mouthful of stew and bread. He swallowed, then said. “Mary, you gave all you had to each child, when they were young and needed you. When they grew up, married and moved out of your home, your job was finished. Whatever else they may get from you...time, wisdom, work...is just added joys for them. They should expect no more.”
I reached over and patted his hand. “Thanks, Abner. I needed a little reassurance.”
He shoved back his bowl as the thunder rumbled in the distance. I glanced out the door. The rain had almost stopped, but dripped from every tree and bush. Air entered the door, cool and refreshing. I rose and cleaned the table, then we walked to the door.
“To answer your question,” Abner said. “I"m leaving in the next few days with a small caravan. It isn"t mine. I just stopped off to see how you were. I know you would be welcome if you care to join us.” He tweaked my cheek with his finger, then drew it across my jaw line. “You are still a beautiful woman, Mary. You will never get old.”
“I"m forty-nine, Abner. That is old.” We walked into the courtyard. “I shall be happy to leave with you after I have a grand argument with James.” We both laughed.
Suddenly, the most serious look I had ever seen crossed his face. “Mary, do the villagers talk of you and me?”
“Of course,” I laughed. “It"s given them something to gossip about for years. What would they talk about had you not come to help me so much?”
He shook his head as his eyes twinkled. “Better get ready. Two days. You"re staying with Ruth and Matthew in Bethlehem aren"t you?”
“No. I"m going to Jerusalem. I hope to find a place to stay when we arrive.”
“I"ll see you have a room, Mary. Don"t worry about that.”
The next day, I explained to the children why I wished to go to Jerusalem early. To my surprise and delight, they gave their blessings...even James. But then, they knew they would arrive in the city for Passover and we"d see each other soon.
I packed and was ready to leave early on the morning of the second day. We arrived in Jerusalem five days later, little more than a week before Passover.