by Woods, Karen
“You know what you are about,” Halphai charged.
“We have come only to find the newborn King, as we have seen and followed His star,” one of the Magi said. “We thought He would be born in Yerushalayim, as a King of Yisra’el should be born. To find Him here has been a surprise to us. But we now see it has been according to prophecy. Where better for the one who will sit on the Throne of David to be born than within the City of David?”
“And you will return to Herod to tell him that you have found the child?” Yosef demanded.
“This is what he asked of us after he told us of the prophecy,” another of the Magi replied. “We left his city after your Shabbat had begun, knowing none of your people would follow us then. And no one did.”
“Please, tarry in this town until we can go safely away from this place,” Yosef asked. “Do not immediately return to Herod. Give us some time to assure the child’s safety. Three days. That would be a reasonable length of time in which you could be expected to search a city this size for a child, whom you will not have found. More time than that, Herod would send men to look for you. He may indeed send men after you, come morning, anyway.”
“That plan seems wise,” the first Magi said. “We can do that.”
After the Magi left, Halphai turned to his brother, “It would be too dangerous to set out tonight. We will leave at first light.”
Halphai’s wife looked at the gifts the Magi had left. “There is a fortune here between the gold and the resins.”
“With that myrrh and frankincense, I could make enough perfume and ointment to support me well for the rest of my life,” Sarah said wistfully with a shake of her head.
“Take the resins then, with our great gratitude for your kind hospitality,” Miriam, the mother of Yehoshua, offered.
Her husband’s cousin looked at her for a long time without saying anything, then she said in a tight voice, “It’s far too much for you to give to me, Miriam, my dear. It is too dear a gift for me to take from anyone.”
“We have no use for the resins, Sarah. Neither Sister nor I make perfumes and ointments,” Halphai’s Miriam answered, supporting her sister-in-law, “but you do make those things. It is only right for you to have them. I agree with Sister.”
“Yosef, are you willing to give me the resins? You could easily sell them for a small fortune. This is an unimaginably large gift,” Sarah asked.
“You have been very good to us, Sarah,” Yosef said. “Take the resins. We don’t have the time to sell them, not that selling them now would be wise as trying to sell these things now would call far too much attention to ourselves. Carrying them home would be impractical. So, yes, please take them for your own use. It is a small enough thing for us to do for you, in gratitude for your hospitality.”
“Let me pay you for at least part of them,” Sarah offered. “I don’t have enough silver in the house to pay for more than a small part of this.”
Yosef sighed. “Sarah, I don’t want your money.”
“You may need it, Yosef. You won’t be able to go home, not through Yerushalayim, at least,” Sarah said. “There will be a cost to you.”
“I think we need to bring Shabbat to a close and get some rest,” Halphai urged. “We will need to leave early.”
“Yes, of course,” Sarah said, clearly embarrassed, before she went to the dining table. Her spice box, the kiddush cup, and the multiwicked candle for the end of the Shabbat ceremony were already prepared there.
After Sarah said the ordinary blessing over the wine, the spice box was passed for everyone to smell. The blessing over the spices was said. The multiwicked candle was lit, signifying a return to regular time from the Shabbat, as one never kindles a fire on Shabbat. Sarah said a blessing over the flame. Everyone extended their hands toward the flames so that their fingers cast shadows on their palms, to appreciate the difference between light and shadow, between Shabbat and ordinary time. Then the final prayer of havdalah was recited by Sarah, as the head of her household, “Barukh atah Adonai, Eloheinu, melekh ha'olam” Blessed are you, Lord, our God, King of the Universe “hamav'dil bein kodesh l'chol” Who separates between sacred and secular “bein or l'choshekh bein Yis'ra'eil la'amim” between light and darkness, between Israel and the Goyim “bein yom ha-sh'vi'i l'shayshet y'may ha-ma'aseh” between the seventh day of rest and the six days of labor. “Barukh atah Adonai, hamav'dil bein kodesh l'chol” Blessed are You, Lord, who separates between sacred and secular.
Everyone answered “Amein.”
Sarah sipped from the cup of wine, then passed it around to be sipped from. When the mostly empty cup returned to her, she poured a little of the remaining contents onto a plate, drank the remainder from the cup of wine, and put out the candle in the small amount of wine on the plate.
Standing there in the semi-darkness, they sang the song to the Prophet Eliyahu that always brought a close to the Shabbat, “Eliyahu hanavi, Eliyahu hatishbi, Eliyahu, Eliyahu, Eliyahu hagiladi” Eliyahu the Prophet, Eliyahu the Tishbite, Eliyahu, Eliyahu, Eliyahu the Gileadite “Bimhera b'yameinu yavo eleinu. Im mashiah ben David, im mashiah ben David.” Come speadily in our day. Come to us Messiah, son of David. Come to us Messiah, son of David.
As it had every week since Gavriel had come to her, this song brought tears to Miriam’s eyes. The Messiah was here, her son, Yehoshua, even though he was yet a baby.
“Shavu’a Tov!” A good week, Sarah wished everyone.
Everyone replied with the same greeting.
Then they all went to bed.
Sleep, although she didn’t think it would, came quickly. About midnight, she heard Yosef say, “Wake up everyone!”
The panic in his voice brought her immediately to alertness.
“What is it, Brother?” Halphai asked.
“An angel has just come to me in a dream. We have to leave here, now! Herod is of a mind to kill the child. No place in Yudea or Galilee is safe. We, Miriam, myself, and Yehoshua, must go into Egypt to take refuge there.”
“Egypt?” Halphai’s wife, Miriam, asked in a shocked voice. “Egypt!? Why Egypt of all places?”
“Herod can’t reach us there, Sister,” Miriam, the mother of Yehoshua, answered, seeing the logic. “We’ll be beyond his authority.”
“Alexandria would be a good destination. I know there is a large community of the children of Yisra’el in that city. I’ll be able to find carpentry work there in the ship building industry,” Yosef said.
Halphai said, after a long pause, “That would be in accord with prophecy. He should come out of Egypt, as the children of Yisra’el did.”
Sarah, her sleep disturbed by the voices, came into the room, carrying a candle. “What is this about?”
Halphai’s wife took a candle from a table and crossed the room to Sarah. After kindling that candle from Sarah’s, she went around the room, lighting candles enough to see by.
Yosef said, “We must leave you, shortly, Sarah. I have had a dream.”
Sarah drew a deep breath as though bracing herself for the worst. “Very well. All this talk of prophecy, dreams, and the child has worn me out. I don’t know how you should manage living with it daily, Yosef.”
Miriam, the mother of Yehoshua, sighed and looked at Sarah, “Magen Avraham” the shield of Abraham, “is our protection and strength.”
Halphai told his wife. “I’ll go out to the stable and bring the donkey for Yosef.”
“Thank you, Brother,” Yosef said. “I will come with you. Two sets of hands will make quick work here.”
“Take care of yourselves and bring your family safely home when you can, Brother,” Halphai said. “You know we will do whatever we can for you.”
Miriam, the mother of Yehoshua, picked up her son, cleaned him, and wrapped him securely in a blanket before responding to Sarah. “We do what Avinu Malkeinu calls us to do, going along one moment at a time. If Yosef says we must go to Egypt, then to Egypt we will go. We are the servants of Elohim.”
Sarah
sighed. “I’ll get you some food packed for the journey and something to eat before you go.”
Then she was gone into the main room of the house.
Both Miriams worked quickly to gather their meager possessions and to roll those into compact bundles, secured by ropes, while Halphai and Yosef went to bring the donkey.
Sarah came to them, carrying several new leather drawstring purses. “Separate the gold into several purses, that way if you are robbed, you won’t lose everything. No thief would expect you to have more than one purse, being the poor people you are. Yet, you will need the money, especially traveling and living in a foreign land. Now, come eat something before you set off. I will pack you some food, although, it won’t be enough to get you to Egypt.”
The men joined them a few minutes later. “The donkey is ready to take his load.”
“How will you go?” Sarah asked.
“We’ll head south to Hebron, then over to Gaza, then follow the caravan route along the coast to Egypt,” Yosef said. “We should be there in three or four weeks, I should think.”
“Perhaps we can see Elisheva and Yoni when we go through Hebron?” Miriam asked.
“Perhaps,” Yosef answered. “We shall have to see.”
Miriam felt her heart sink. She had to admit that was a real possibility Herod’s men would have been there before them. She sighed. “Come and eat. Sarah prepared food.”
They were gone from Bethlehem less than a half hour later.
A soft light went before them as though their guardian angels were going before them to light the way.
Miriam touched by the concern of her Lord for their safety, recalled a verse from the Psalms, “He will command his angels concerning you, to guard you in all your ways.”
She must have spoken that aloud, as Yosef placed his hand on her arm. “Yes. I think that is it, precisely.”
They’d been on the road for several hours before the sun rose. They’d made good time. Midmorning, they arrived in Hebron. Surely, Elisheva would put them up for the night.
While yet some distance from the home, it became clear to Miriam that this was not to be. Elisheva’s home had been gutted by fire. All that stood were the stone walls. And some of those didn’t look any too sturdy.
Zisel, Elisheva’s servant, covered in soot, came out of the ruins of the house.
Miriam slid off the donkey’s back, handed the baby to Yosef, and went to the servant.
“Zisel!” she said. “What has happened?”
The older woman looked at her for a long moment. It was obvious that the woman had been beaten. The bruises on the old woman’s face were a day or so old, given the color. Miriam felt anger rise within her and forced that back.
“Elisheva isn’t home, Miriam,” Zisel said.
“Does she live?” Miriam demanded. “Zisel, is Yoni well?”
“I do not know. Miriam, I simply do not know,” Zisel’s voice broke and the older woman began to cry.
After bringing herself back under control, the maid said, “We received word about noon on Preparation day that Herod’s men had killed Zechariah in the Temple as he served that morning. A rider, one of the priests who served with Zechariah, came swiftly from Yerushalayim to warn us. Immediately, Elisheva grabbed a bundle of clothing for the boy and herself, a bag of food, a skin of water, and the boy before she ran for the hills. Herod’s men arrived on horseback less than an hour after she fled. They were most unhappy to learn she and the boy were not at home. I lied, told them she and the boy had gone to Yerushalayim to be with Zechariah. They forced their way into the house, searched for them within the house, completely throwing the furniture around in the process, breaking the pottery, and generally being destructive. Not finding either my mistress or the child, they fired the house out of pure spite. They had no reason to do that,” Zisel said, tears flowing down her face. “No reason at all. As far as I know, those soldiers are still in the area. Flee, flee quickly, young Miriam. It is not safe for you to be here.”
“Come with us, Zisel,” Miriam urged. “We are leaving the country. There is work for you with us.”
“No. I will wait here for my mistress to return. She will need me. If she does not return, I can find another position here in Hebron,” the maid said. “But you, go now, before Herod’s men return to gloat over their handiwork, I beg you.”
The desperation in her voice made Miriam want to cry. Of course, she wasn’t far from tears now. Zechariah murdered in the Temple. Elisheva and Yoni fled to the hills to hide. The whole world was turning upside down and she was smack in the middle of the turmoil.
Miriam turned and nodded to Yosef. “She’s right. We need to go, now.”
“Come along, then, Wife,” Yosef said. “We’ll go quickly.”
“But not so quickly as to call unnecessary attention to ourselves,” she added.
They made some distance from Hebron, towards Gaza, before evening. Miriam had been trying to hold back her tears. But she finally lost that battle.
Yosef turned to face her. “We’ll stop for the night just up here in the next town. I hope the town has an inn, since the air smells as though rain is coming,” Yosef said. “We must protect the child from the storm.”
Chapter Twelve
Miriam made her way through the streets of the Jewish section of Alexandria. She’d left Yaacov to watch Yehoshua while she took these linens to Claudia, the great Roman lady, who had commissioned these pieces.
It had taken six months after arriving here before Miriam had begun to get direct commissions for table linens and clothing. Taking direct commissions was far more profitable for her than to sell her work through the merchants. So, now, all she did was commissioned work.
The great lady had ordered these linens as part of the goods her daughter would be taking into marriage. They were good linens. Miriam knew these would be both a beautiful and long lasting addition to the young woman’s household. They were well worth every coin Miriam would be paid for them.
After the linens were accepted by the great lady, and paid for, that wealthy woman invited Miriam to sit and take refreshments.
“No, thank you. I must be going.”
“Miriam, would you consider coming into my service?”
“Into your service?”
“I should like to have a weaver among my household staff. I would pay you well.” Claudia named a sum that was double what Miriam had earned last year. “Of course, you would have housing and food above the salary. I am quite weary of having to seek my linens on the market.”
“I will think about it,” Miriam said. “I will have to speak to my husband about this. It is too big a decision to be taken without much thought and prayer.”
“Ah,” the great lady said, “when I pray, I go to the shrine of Minerva, my patroness, look at her statue, and ask her for whatever I desire. If I really want something, I’ll give her a gift. But, you Hebrews have no statues, only one great temple in far away Ierusalem, and that minor temple at Leontopolis here in Egypt, and your men seem to do most of the public praying for your race.”
“The Holy One of Yisra’el is as close to us as our next breath. We have no need to depict Him in statues, nor could we do so as He is spirit, not flesh. The men do most of the public corporate worship among our people, because that frees the women to care for our families. Our religion is one lived in small acts as well as great ones. It is largely a matter for the home,” Miriam replied with a smile.
The great lady shook her head, accepting Miriam’s explanation, “Think about my offer.”
“I must return home, now. I will send you an answer by the end of the week, if I am to accept your offer, if that is acceptable to you.”
“My husband and I will be returning to Roma by year’s end. We would take our household staff with us, then. There is a Hebrew community in Roma, I understand.”
“So, I understand, my lady. This is also something to consider. It is a big decision. However, going to Roma is nothing ei
ther my husband or I have even contemplated.”
“Life happens that way. Unexpected treasures drop into our laps.”
“They do indeed,” she agreed, thinking of her son. “However, this offer is something for me to discuss with my husband and for us to pray about. If we decide to accept the offer, we will let you know in a few days.”
“Very well, Miriam. I shall expect to hear from you.”
Walking home, she thought about this offer. Roma. How would they raise Yehoshua to be a good son of the Covenant in Roma? Besides, her dear Yosef had a good many strengths, but his Latin was not good. He would be miserable living in a place where he would have to use that language daily.
From behind her, she heard horses approaching, very fast. A warning shout in Latin from behind her sent her scurrying off the street.
Miriam stepped off the road into the shelter of a doorway just as a dozen horses, ridden by Roman soldiers, went past her, at a reckless rate of speed. If she hadn’t stepped aside, they would have run her down, with neither hesitation nor remorse.
How she longed to be home! Yes, there were Romans there, too, from time to time. But at least they didn’t interfere in daily village life. No one at home at ever been nearly run down by Roman horsemen. There was little reason for Romans to come to Natsarat or any other poor village of working people. There was no money to speak of in most villages where people worked from sunrise to sunset just to keep food on the table. There was even less time or energy than money to make any sort of rebellion.
Yes, Miriam longed to be home.
She continued walking towards the one room house they rented here in Alexandria. On the way home, she stopped at a few merchant stalls along the street, to buy food.