Before daybreak, I opened my eyes to a world that was, for me, very different.
Glancing toward the rim of the sky, I saw the first faint light of day. Overhead, the black was so intense stars sparkled like diamonds whose facets are touched by sunbeams. The sliver of a moon still hung over the hills.
There was just enough light to see silhouettes of trees and bushes.
Every sense alert, I felt each drop of moisture in the air; I heard every sound, even a snore from down in the courtyard. I felt as though I could see to the edges of Heaven. I tasted the figs still hanging on the trees without plucking even one. I smelled the odor of honeysuckles which permeated the air. These sensations wrapped me in a cloak of sweetness.
As I looked around at a new morning I wondered if the entire episode had been a dream. Am I really pregnant with the Seed of God? I lightly ran my hand over my belly. I couldn"t remember my skin ever feeling so silky smooth. Surely, the entire episode was my imagination. I smiled to myself. Mother would say I was just hungry.
What should I do? Should I tell my Mother and Father? Could I tell Joseph? Would he understand? And how could I know whether I was pregnant?
These questions ran through my brain until I realized what I was doing. I was questioning the angel"s visit.
Suddenly, I knew. I was pregnant. Gabriel had visited me. I knew God had given me His son to love and cherish.
I shook my head. I was just putting off the inevitable moment. I must admit it to myself as a fact, then tell my family and Joseph. My dear, dear, Joseph.
I raised myself from the roof, stood and pulled my cloak tightly around me. I felt the velvety softness of early dawn on my skin. Suddenly I fell to my knees, praying that God would make these recent events clearer to me. I asked Him to tell me whether I should inform the family. I sat back and looked to the heavens for answers.
A firefly clicked his light off and on above my head. The lights looked like tiny stars twinkling near enough to catch. The coolness of the slight breeze brushed my cheeks and caused my sleep-tousled hair to sway.
As I sat with my eyes closed, a peace I had never known engulfed me. Suddenly I had my answer. I knew I must tell my parents; they loved and cared for me all the days of my life. They would understand.
I arose, looked over the top of the wall, then went downstairs. Not another soul stirred in the village as far as I could tell. I picked up the water jug and walked to the well. I was in a daze as I moved over the well-worn path with its sand and rocks.
Small stones gleamed, polished by many sandals. On the path, shrubs on either side were barely visible in the early morning. As they awoke, birds chattered, chirruped and quarreled, as their multicolored feathers flashed radiant colors in the dimness. Flitting across the ground they picked up small insects and seed, then returned to tree branches.
The mountain ridges hovered over Nazareth like protecting angels, giving a sense of safety and magnificent beauty. I loved those hills. Their colors of dusty amber and tan and brown blended into one magnificent canvas.
I stumbled as I continued to look up at the heavens, instead of the path. I hoped to see the star that visited me last night. But the stars, one by one, twinkled brightly for a moment, then suddenly disappeared.
The quietness of the morning held only the muted sounds of asses braying and the bleating of sheep. The morning call of roosters aroused people as I reached the well. Breezes rustled the leaves at my feet and wafted the perfume of many plants through the air.
When I reached the well, I drew water and placed the jug on the edge. Then I washed my face and hands, feeling the water"s cool dampness. I refilled the water jug and turned to walk home. “What are you doing here so early?” Sarah asked. I hadn"t heard her arrive.
“Just woke up and decided to be first in line.” My voice sounded different; I"m not sure how exactly, just unusual. I attempted to answer her without letting her know what had happened to me. “I might ask the same of you.”
Sarah examined me as she placed her jug on the side of the well, alongside mine. “Are you all right? You seem in a strange mood this morning. Has anything happened?”
“I really am well. I just don"t feel like talking.” I placed one hand on her arm as I held the jug on my shoulder with the other. “Please forgive me. We"ll talk later.”
“Of course.” Her voice held understanding. As life long friends, she and I always understood when the other was unwilling to talk. She knew, eventually, she would learn what was bothering me.
Slowly, I made my way home. I stepped from the path to let friends and acquaintances pass without comment.
Dry sand entered my sandals and caused pebbles to become stuck under my toes. I placed the jug on the ground, removed the sandal, emptied it of small stones, then resumed my journey.
Questions filled my thoughts as I moved sluggishly. What can I tell Mother? Will she believe me? How about Father? Will he accuse me of wrong doing? Will he think that Joseph and I have lain together?
I shook my head in denial. Father must not lay any blame on Joseph. That dear man has nothing to do with this.
Nothing, that is, except that Joseph is such a good man, God chose him to be the male parent of His Son.
While making my way home, the sun peeked over the horizon. It drew dark silhouettes of houses and trees onto the sky"s canvas. Silvery fingers of light poked into the dimness of the Heavens. Scents of early morning dew and vegetation wafted around me. A few homes showed light, and smells from an early meal drifted across my nostrils.
I walked into the house and placed the jug on the bushel. Mother rose and came through the bedroom door as I entered.
“Good morning, Mary. Did you sleep on the roof?” she asked. Her eyes were still half-closed as she neared the table.
“Yes, Mother.” My voice must have sounded different even to her sleepy mind.
“Mary,” her voice held alarm as her eyes flew wide open. “Are you well?” She looked at me in concern, came near and felt my forehead.
I nodded, kissed her hand and held it. “Yes, of course.” I dropped her hand, then placed the jug on the table.
Mother sat as I poured, then placed a tumbler of water in front of her.
“Mother,” I asked. “Can you please keep Father home for a while today? I mean, after Daniel and Leah leave for school?”
“This is serious, isn"t it?” Her voice was low, concerned. She wasn"t her usual self this morning. She knew something was amiss with one of her children, so she was wide awake now. Staring into my face, she attempted to discern just what the problem was.
“Yes, it is, Mother. I must talk with both of you.” I felt as if I was pleading for my life.
“I"ll talk with him. I"m sure he"ll stay until we hear what you have to say. Come,” She took my hand for a moment, then released it. “Let"s prepare the morning meal.”
She took bread from a basket, added cheese and figs, then placed them all on the table as I poured water and milk for everyone. When Daniel, Leah and Father came in, Father said prayers and we ate. Everyone was quiet.
Daniel and Leah must have sensed something. They looked from me to our parents. I could tell they wondered what had happened. For once, they said nothing. As soon as the meal ended Mother and I rushed them toward school.
We sat, one parent on each side of me, at the table. Apparently, Mother had talked earlier with Father, though I didn"t know when she found the time.
I circled my goblet with both hands and refused to meet their eyes. “Please listen to me. I must tell you something that happened while I slept on the roof last night.” I said, and raised my head, looking from one to the other. I prayed they would believe and understand.
As I thought of the results of what had happened, I felt tears sting my eyelids. How could I explain? Who would believe me?
Mother saw the tear and removed one of my hands from the goblet. She held onto it as though I would attempt to get away. Father placed an arm around my shoulder. “Whatever it was Mary, we know you would never do anything wrong.”
I looked up into his kind and loving eyes. For a moment, I couldn"t speak. My heart filled with love for these two people who had given me life and had so much confidence in me.
I began my story. As I spoke, I glanced at Mother. She and Father were staring at each other, a puzzled look on their faces. They seemed to be asking each other. “Could it be? Could it really be our daughter who was The Chosen One?”
When I completed the story and told them about falling asleep almost immediately, Father lifted me and placed me on his lap. For the first time in many years, I felt like a little girl going to her father for comfort. I burrowed my head into his shoulder, receiving confirmation of the love I knew he had for me.
He held me as though he would never let me go and Mother squeezed my hand even more tightly.
“Blessed be my daughter,” she sighed, and I knew she was remembering our conversation of yesterday. “God has truly chosen a righteous woman to bring His Son into the world.”
“But...”
“Shhh.” Father ordered, quietly. “We are humble that this should happen to one in our family.” He stated almost as if it were a prayer. “Mary, whatever happens we are with you for all of our lives. We will be there for you whenever you have problems.” He lifted me gently to my feet as Mother released my hand.
“Come.” He held out his hand and I placed my small one in his enormous, yet comforting hand.
“We must talk about this, then go to Joseph and talk with him,” he suggested.
“What if Joseph won"t love me any more?” I cried, releasing my hand from his and striding around the room.
“How can you even think that?” Mother asked.
“Oh, Mother.” I stopped and faced my parents. “I just remembered. The angel told me Cousin Elizabeth was with child.” Mother stared at me, then gave a deep sigh. She turned to Father who placed his arm around her shoulder. “This proves it was a messenger from God. Only the people in their town knew until a few days ago.
As I told Joachim, Elizabeth wrote me. Your friend who leads a caravan brought the letter. She was beside herself that she was finally with child. She was so afraid she would lose it, she only told me after five months passed.”
I faced her and from the corner of my eye detected a sliver of sunlight slipping through the door.
“How could this be? She"s too old.” I looked at Mother and continued. “Gabriel told me about it but I did have doubts.”
Mother took a deep breath and continued. “Elizabeth wrote that her husband Zacharias, the priest, was in the temple when Gabriel came to tell him that Elizabeth would bear a child. Because Zacharias would not believe immediately, God struck him dumb.”
I saw Father staring at Mother as though he was now dumb as well, and my face must have mirrored his.
“When he finished his duties in the Most Holy Place,” Mother continued, “he came outside and was unable to say a word. Soon after, Elizabeth became with child. The angel told them their son would be the forerunner of the Messiah.”
“Oh, Mother! Do you think her son could be the man who tells the world of my son?” The thought was staggering. It was difficult to believe. I could understand the questions of Zacharias. I had doubts myself.
“That was foretold by the prophets.” Father said, nodding. I looked from Mother to Father, thankful beyond belief that they retained their faith in me.
“Come.” Father held his hand out to me as he slid his other arm from around Mother"s shoulder to her hand.
“Let"s go to the Synagogue. We must thank God for this miracle, then tell the Rabbi the good news.”
Suddenly I had doubts. If I had trouble believing Gabriel, how would the Rabbi react? Would He believe me?
Somehow I doubted it. I didn"t want to leave this secure haven...the place that had nourished me with love all my life.
I looked around the home I loved and, though I was only fifteen, somehow knew the next time I entered I would be a different person. As we walked from the house, I felt confused and frightened.
The sun was quite high as we walked along the road leading to the Synagogue. Birds stilled their chatter as we passed. Bees buzzed around the flowers by the wayside. Creatures quietly rustled the leaves as we passed.
I sniffed, and the scents of cedar, honeysuckle and other flowers and trees surrounded us, blending into what I thought must be like a pleasing aromatic incense to God.
What was my life going to be like now? I wondered. Who was this Baby I was carrying? What would He look like? What would my role in His life be?
Walking to the synagogue, I wondered if the Rabbi really would believe me. I had more doubts than Father did.
The Rabbi and I had seldom seen eye to eye. When I was in school, he often berated me for knowing more than he did about the day"s lesson. He often stated he hated teaching girls because it was a worthless occupation. He said, “All they"re ever going to do is get married. What do they need an education for?” So, I had good reason to doubt his acceptance of this occurrence.
Then my thoughts turned to my every day life. What would Joseph say when I told him? Would he believe that I had always been faithful to him? What would happen if he refused to marry me? Would I be stoned as had happened to others who became with child without a husband?
No, Gabriel had specifically said that no one would stone me. He even implied I was foolish to think such a thing. And I suppose at the time I was acting foolishly.
What would the neighbors say when they saw my condition and unable to produce a husband? My steps slowed as I walked between my parents. I didn"t see the neighbors who must have looked at us in wonder. Wives, husbands and daughters seldom walked together. They would know something untoward had happened. In my mind I could hear the gossip already beginning. I said a silent prayer. Please God, don"t make this burden too hard to bear. I closed my eyes. Had Father not held me tightly, I would have stumbled over a large rock. Tears rolled down my face and I wiped them away with the back of my hand like a child. I was lonely, apprehensive and fearful.
I cried softly, “God, help me!”
Father held me. “He will, Little One. He will only do what is best for the woman who is to bear His Child.”
“But Joseph...” I felt tears running down my cheeks and knew water was mingling with the dust our sandals disturbed as we passed. I knew sweat and tears had already made streaks down my face where I wiped it with my bare hand.
“My Joseph,” I sobbed and felt my shoulders shake, and knew I could do nothing about it.
Father gathered me in his arms and patted my back as though I were a baby.
“He will believe, Mary. I know he will,” Mother whispered so softly I barely heard her.
Since my betrothal to Joseph, there was seldom a day we did not see each other. As we walked toward the Synagogue, I went back to our betrothal night in my thoughts.
That betrothal night was such an exceptional time for us. Announcements were made earlier, and the day of the betrothal, Mother, Leah and the neighbors polished and cleaned every wall and piece of furniture, then snipped every flower within sight.
Walls of the room were almost hidden. Covered with vines and leaves and blossoms, the vines drooped out the door and onto the courtyard. Scents from purple, red, yellow and blue flowers, permeated the house as green fern and leaves covered the walls.
Food was prepared; special breads and cakes baked. An abundance of vegetables and bright, scrubbed fruit lay on the table. Wine from the jugs awaited the time to be poured into containers for the toasts.
In our second room, as Leah watched, Sarah took each pin from my hair slowly. She was relishing the moment when hair was loosened to fall down my back.
Giggling, she took the last pin and grabbed my hair, splattering it all over my shoulders. As I looked in the mirror Joseph made for me, I knew I looked much different from just a few moments before.
I was ready to be Joseph"s bride. I could barely wait until the wedding took place and we could spend the rest of our lives together.
“Ooh, Mary, you look so beautiful!” Leah clasped her hands together. “I wish I was pretty like you.”
“Oh, my little sister, come here.” She walked over to me and I hugged her tightly. “You are already very pretty, and you will get more beautiful as you grow older.”
Sarah stooped and kissed Leah, then collected the strands of my hair. She combed them neatly around my shoulders and down my back, so it was smooth and tidy. I looked up at her. “We are both women now, Sarah.
Let"s be friends the rest of our lives.”
She grabbed my shoulders and squeezed. “I couldn"t live without your love, Mary.”
“Neither could I live without yours.” We hugged each other.
We walked into the front room, arms around each other as Leah trailed behind. We arrived just as the first guests arrived.
Each person brought gifts: baskets, jugs, tools needed for housework and bolts of cloth were deposited at my feet. I could barely believe the gifts. There were so many and of such beauty. I didn"t know how to tell them how much their offerings meant. I knew and appreciated these sacrifices our wonderful neighbors and relatives had made.
When I looked up, there was Joseph filling the doorway, eyes only for me. As I watched, he drew a purse containing the marriage fee from his girdle. The rabbi took Joseph"s girdle and laid it across my outstretched arms.
When the rabbi asked if Joseph brought gifts, he nodded. The gifts were not as much as he wished for, he said, but he came weighted down. He made Father a new yoke for his oxen, and for my Mother, he carved a serving bowl.
For me, he made a special table; small, with poppies carved all around it. He told me he wished me to use this to place the jewels he would give me. Joseph polished the table until it was as bright and shiny as a new dinar.
I gasped at the next gift. He held a necklace in his hands, made of gold. A small sapphire was embedded in the center of a coin attached to the necklace.
He placed it around my neck and looked at me with such love I thought I must melt with the wonder of it. Tears threatened to spill over, but before they could, he turned, stepped outside and lifted a heavy chest.
He had traded his work for a piece of a cedar tree, he told me later. He stripped it of its bark, then made planks of wood from it. He made the most beautiful chest I had ever seen. Then he polished it until it shone so bright one could see reflections of the lights of the room.
“Oh, Joseph.” I could barely breathe, the gifts were so breathtaking. “Thank you.”
He looked into my eyes. “This is for all the pieces of cloth you have dyed and sewed for our home. For the pallets you have worked on so hard and everything that we shall need in the way of linens. For the pillows you made and the utensils you collected.”
I could say no more as we sat side-by-side at the table our family normally used for morning meals. The table was placed in the center of the room so everyone could see.
When the gift-giving ended, the scribe sat so he might write the terms of the contract. Joseph stated aloud he would work for me and honor me. He added that all of his property was now mine.
The children, kept silent and still during the ceremonies were now released. Leah told me she felt she was much too old to be a part of the children"s play, so she stood near Mother, looking on with a smile of pure delight. I wondered if Leah was remembering the times she had been a part of a group of children at other betrothals.
Children squealed and yelled with glee and reached out for nut meats and other sweets. This symbolized that I had kept myself sweet and pure for Joseph. The next event was the placing of the veil upon my head. This signified I belonged to him and my face was his to shield.
This morning, as I walked between my parents, remembering all these things, I wondered if Joseph would still love me. Would he still want to shield my face from the world? Would he believe me when I told him I was with child and that the Father of the child was God?
As we entered the synagogue, it looked the same as when we came to worship each Sabbath. There was a difference, however. I heard the chant of students in the back of the building as they recited their lessons. When I attended and the weather was nice, we often sat under a tree and studied.
Now, I saw the synagogue as an alien place. The seats were in the same position, a screen separating men from women. The Torah was copied on strips of parchment, sewn together and rolled around staves. Wrapped in linen, it was placed in an ark. Today, the ark which held the Torah was just a dark shadow at the back of the room.
The menorah, normally lighting the sanctuary, was a seven-branched lamp stand which now held unlit candles in the dull, silver cups. Walls of the Synagogue exuded many odors...perfume from the women who attended worship, sweat from the men, candle wax and the musty odor of older buildings, permeated everything.
The Rabbi greeted us with a nod.
Father exclaimed, his smile reaching across his face. “Rabbi, we have the most wonderful news!”
The rabbi lifted his razor-thin face to stare with beady, black eyes up at my father. “Just what is this wonderful news?” He attempted to smile, but his thin lips barely moved. His small, rabbit"s nose quivered in anticipation, and his voice sounded like a tinny horn.
Why had I never noticed this before?
“Mary is to be the mother of God"s Son!” My father"s voice trumpeted throughout the synagogue.
The rabbi"s smile left his face like a stormy rain washes a stone. “What?” He exclaimed in a voice that condemned me without a hearing. For such a little man, people had often remarked he had a voice that could reach the entire village.
“It"s true,” my father stated. “She received a visit from an Angel last night.” My father"s voice softened.
I looked up and saw the hurt in his face at the rabbi"s reaction to the news. I knew I shouldn"t let myself be angry, but seeing the rabbi hurt my father made me want to strike that pompous, little man.
“That"s impossible!” He pranced around like a miniature Arabian horse, a sneer on his pointed face. “The Savior is to be born in Bethlehem.” He pointed a long, bony finger. “And she will never go anywhere after she is stoned by the neighbors.” He sniffed again and brushed his hands together as though he were wiping them clean of our presence.
He stared at me and in a thunderous voice stated, “your daughter is little better than a whore,” he pronounced, even without a trial.
Father took a step toward the rabbi. Mother placed her hand on his arm and spoke softly. “Stop, Joachim.”
The rabbi drew himself up to his full height...probably three inches taller than I.
“She has blasphemed God,” he roared. “If she continues in this fantasy, I shall denounce her to the entire village. She will be tried, then stoned to death!”
His words penetrated my heart. I could be stoned to death! Oh, God, I cried silently. What will I do?
“To tell the village is your decision,” my mother said, sorrowfully. “I shall pray for you.”
The Rabbi acted as though he hadn"t heard a word, continuing with his tirade. “My God would not choose a lowly girl from such a wicked village to become His Handmaiden!” He stated emphatically, hitting his fist against the palm of his other hand.
“No, I guess your God wouldn"t.” My father"s voice echoed Mother"s sorrow. “But mine would.” Father placed his arms around me tenderly, then turned back to the rabbi. “May God have mercy on your soul.”
The man was still sputtering as we walked from the building. I wondered who would last the longest in the village...the rabbi or me and my family.
As we walked, Father seemed to be in a deep study. Nearing our home he said, “If you would like to visit Elizabeth for awhile, I"m sure she would enjoy your company.”
“Oh, Joachim, what a lovely idea.” Mother said, turning devoted eyes in his direction.
Father held my hand tightly and I silently took his strength. “While there, you may be able to learn what is in store for you.” He glanced down at me as I clutched his hand.
My eyes filled, then overflowed. At that moment I felt such love for the understanding my father gave, I could say nothing.
Mother placed her arm around my waist, holding me closely.
“I"m sure Zacharias can give you insights into why this happened in this manner,” Mother stated with conviction.
Father leaned over and kissed my cheek. “I know you were to be married in a few weeks but it will be months before anyone has to know you are with child.” He thought and scratched his head as he often did while thinking. “Joseph must be told.” Mother walked slowly beside me, holding my hand, saying little. “When you return, we"ll have had time to adjust to this wonderful news,” she concluded, as a beautiful smile lit her face.
Nearing our home, I remembered the thoughts I had as we left.
I had been right. I was different. I felt as old as the prophets said Methuselah was before his death. “I feel not only old, but weary,” I thought. “I"m wary of everyone, even my friends. I certainly don"t want to meet Joseph any time soon.”
When Leah and Daniel came home from the synagogue and their studies, I knew they were curious as to why I didn"t greet them as usual. I heard Mother tell them to begin their studies, she would explain later.
I left the room only to assist Mother in fixing the evening meal. When it was done, Leah and Mother took the food outside while I remained in the house.
Leah"s eyes followed every step I took. Could my little sister whom I adored, still believe in me? I prayed fervently she would.
When Joseph came down the path, Father met him. I heard Father. “I"m sorry, Joseph, but Mary does not feel like seeing anyone tonight.”
“What"s wrong with her?” His voice was deep, concerned. “I should be with her if she"s ill.”
My father"s voice was emphatic. “I"m sorry, Joseph.” And the sorrow in his voice made the withheld tears pour down my cheeks. I wanted to see Joseph. I longed to know he cared. I ached to know this would make no difference to him. But for now I couldn"t face him or anyone other than my family.
“Why are you not letting me see her?” Joseph sounded angry. “I"ve been with her each time she"s been sick before.” “Maybe later, Joseph,” Father said, attempting to placate him. “She really doesn"t feel like talking with anyone right now...not even you. I"m sorry.”
A few more words passed between them, and a disgruntled Joseph left. I spent the remainder of the day in the inner room. I prayed, thanking God for choosing me, but also telling Him I was very frightened. I asked Him to show me the right way to handle this news. I needed desperately to know that it had actually happened. Though elated that God had thought I was good enough to be the Mother of His Son, I still felt apprehensive.
I always tried to be a child of God, but I had made mistakes; I had sinned. If I had sinned, then why was I chosen? Why had God not chosen the perfect woman?
Many tears fell, but even through all the tears, questions and crying, I felt the nearness of God. I knew comfort when I could let myself feel anything other than fright.