Mother's Eyes

by Woods, Karen

  Miriam felt her heart rise to her throat. She swallowed hard. It was for this reason he had come into the world. She had to let him go. But, she didn’t want to do that. “Are you certain, Son?”

  “Abba always told me I would know when it was time to go out into the world,” Yehoshua said. “This is the time.”

  Miriam sighed. “First day of the week, we’ll begin walking to the river. Do you suppose he chose that area to for his ministry because of the historical significance of the location?”

  “Maybe because that area is desert and it reinforces the idea that we have to rely totally on the goodness of El Elyon,” Yehuda echoed.

  “For all we know,” Hadassah said, “he may be one of the Essenoi. They have a community near there.”

  “I doubt he is among the Essenoi,” Yehoshua answered. “He is said to live the consecrated life; never touching wine, not cutting his hair, staying away from corpses. Further, he has a reputation as a wild man of the desert, wearing animal skins for clothing and eating only locusts and wild honey.”

  “How can anyone live like that?” Hadassah asked.

  Shimon sighed and said, “We’re soft, living in our houses and having our little luxuries. I’m grateful for the little luxuries people want, as I make many of the pots, dishes, and other vessels for their homes. Miriam makes fine table linens as well as tunics and burial shrouds, which are coveted for their beauty. She has as much work as she can handle and people pay her very well indeed for her work. Yehuda serves as shochet, so that people can eat meat, a true luxury, and teaches the young to read, also a luxury. Yehoshua and Yoses build furniture, often building fine furnishings for the homes of the rich and making a very good living doing so. Yaacov makes a living writing out ketubah, and other contracts, producing the scrolls for the mezuzah for people’s houses, copying scrolls, and such work. There are few who write with such a fine hand as our Yaacov does, or who are so revered as a just man that people bring their disputes before him to settle in binding arbitration. Halphai’s Yaacov makes his living fishing. Nathan prospers in his blacksmithing business. Lavi and Aryah have done well for themselves, going to sea as they have done. It is a rare set of brothers who can have three ships and crews running cargo up and down the coast.”

  Yehuda countered, “The boys now have four ships. They added that fourth ship this week. They are doing quite well for themselves. Talk is that they will have five ships before this time next year. The shipping business seems to be booming.”

  “Indeed, they are doing well for themselves. Which was my point, many people in the world do not live as well as we do,” Shimon said.

  “We are exceedingly blessed,” Miriam, the mother of Yehoshua, said. “We live simply, and we work hard. Both of those have given us fairly prosperous lives. How many days shall we be on the road going to see Yoni, any idea?”

  “The easiest way would be to walk over to the Sea of Galilee then south until we find him,” Yehuda answered. “It could be two days. It could be six. We’ll know how long when we find him.”

  “It will take most of the first day just to get over to the Sea of Galilee,” Shimon added.

  “I’ll need to take his father’s scrolls to him,” Miriam said.

  “Yes,” Yehoshua nodded in agreement. “We’ve just been keeping them in trust for him. If this is Zechariah’s son, then he must have them, of course. I have the scrolls in my head. I don’t need them any longer.”

  Yehuda chuckled, “I believe you know them by heart. I wish all of my former students were as dedicated to Elohim as you are, Brother.”

  Yehoshua shook his head. “Then, we’re resolved that we will go seek out this teacher, beginning early on the first day of the week?”

  “That’s what I had in mind,” Miriam said.

  “Then, Emma, that’s what we shall do,” Yehoshua said.

  “My Leah is to have her nissuin in just over two months,” Shimon said. “Yehoshua, you told her that you would recite the last of the sheva brachos as she stands under the chuppah.”

  “Have I ever broken my word?” Yehoshua asked, his voice unruffled.

  “No,” Daliya, Shimon’s wife, answered quickly. “You never have broken your word.”

  “I’ll be at the nissuin,” Yehoshua replied. “I really wouldn’t purposefully miss her marriage feast.”

  “Especially as the feast is likely to feature an abundance of roast meat. After all, she’s marrying in a family with great fields and herds,” Daliya teased.

  “I’m certain the feast will be well done,” Yehoshua allowed, with a smile.

  “Let us sing our blessings,” Yehuda said.

  Miriam and her son walked back through the courtyard to their little house. The Shabbat candles still blazed on the table and two oil lamps burned as well on side tables, giving light to the single room.

  “Son,” she began, “if you are to leave me, promise me you will leave your home wearing new clothes. I have a new daily tunic and mantle ready for you, and a new Shabbat set of clothes made for you. Both of them are here on the shelf. And I had a new pair of sandals made for you.”

  Yehoshua laughed. “It’s not like I will never see you again, Emma.”

  “I will miss you, my son,” Miriam said, blinking back tears. “I’ve always known this day would come. But I’ve dreaded it ever since Zechariah opened my eyes to the prophecy about your life, especially since old Simeon prophesied about you in the Temple on the day of your pidyon ha-ben. Knowing these things, your leaving me breaks my heart. Then again, Simeon told me a sword would pierce my heart. I’m beginning to fully understand that, even though I know the pain will become far worse.”

  “Emma,” he began.

  “No, Son, there is no need for words. We both know what is, and what is to be. You have your path to walk. No one else can walk it for you.”

  “I love you, Emma.”

  She lost the battle with her tears. They streamed hot down her face. Her son wiped her tears away. She held his hand against her face and said, “I have loved you more than anyone will ever love you. I will always love you.”

  “I will make sure you have someone to care for you.”

  “I can take care of myself, Son.”

  “One day, Emma, you will be old and infirm. You will need someone then. We can’t count on Abba’s children to care for you. They are mostly your age or older. By the time you will need help, they will be unable to aid you and their children will be busy caring for them.”

  “So, what do you have in mind?”

  “I will find someone younger than my brethren to care for you as a son. There is time for that. I’ve not yet begun to speak publicly. It will be some time, yet, before the authorities are so uncomfortable with my teaching that they seek my life.”

  She lost the battle with tears again. He pulled her close and held her for a long time. He spoke softly, comfortingly, to her. But the words passed over her. Finally, having brought her grief under control, she stepped back.

  “Your Abba once quoted to me the mashal, ‘A courageous wife is a crown to her husband.’ I suspect a courageous mother is a crown to her son, as well.”

  He laughed, as she had intended him to. “I suspect it is.” Then he became serious. “I’m only sorry you have to be courageous on my account, Emma.”

  “Avinu Malkeinu is going to do great things through you, my son. I can draw on His strength.”

  Her son smiled at her. “You look tired. Why don’t you roll out your mat and get some sleep. I think I’ll read for a while.”

  Miriam yawned. “It’s silly. But I don’t want to sleep. Not knowing I’m going to be alone in this house after you’re gone. All I want is to spend this time with you.”

  “Emma, rest now. We’ll have tomorrow and the days of the walk down to see Yochanan. You will need your rest. The walk will not be easy.”

  “Compromise. I’ll lay down to rest. But you must read to me. I always love hearing you read.”

  He smi
led at her as he went to the cabinet he and Yosef had made to hold Zechariah’s scrolls. He brought out a scroll of mashalim, Proverbs, and, after saying the bedtime blessings with his mother, read aloud to her. His voice proclaiming the words of Agur, words she’d quoted so long ago at a dinner in this house with Yosef and his children, were the last things she heard before she could no longer fight off sleep.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Finding Yochanan bar Zechariah, Yoni, was not difficult. They couldn’t have missed the crowd gathered around the man. Yehoshua stayed back while his mother and her stepchildren went to see the man.

  Getting close enough to be heard, Miriam said, “Yoni!”

  The baptizer looked at her. Puzzlement was the chief expression on his face. “Only my mother ever called me that.”

  “You have Elisheva’s kind eyes,” Miriam said. “And your father’s strong nose and chin. How Zechariah would have been proud of you! I am your mother’s kinswoman, Miriam, of Natsarat. When I heard of this wild man of the desert named Yochanan who was creating controversy by preaching repentance and preparation for the coming of the Moshiach, I had to come to you.”

  “Come and sit with me, Miriam,” he invited when he was able to collect himself. “Andreas, bring my kinswoman a cool drink of water. She looks thirsty.”

  He drew her aside and they sat down together on a pair of rocks. “Why have you come, Miriam? Not to be baptized by me, even if I baptized women. You need no repentance. I can see virtue shining around you as a glow. You are the first person I can say that of.” Then he added lowly, in an awed voice, “How very wonderful.”

  Miriam smiled. “Avinu Malkeinu has been good to me.”

  “Indeed. Further, you have guarded that goodness within yourself, keeping it bright. That is rare, indeed.”

  “I have come to you with a purpose, Yoni. Years ago, after your father was killed, I was given his books; scrolls he had painstakingly copied of Torah, the Prophets, and the Writings. I’ve kept those for you, reading them myself, and allowing my son to study from them. Do you want your father’s books?” She offered him a bag containing some of the scrolls. “These are a few of them. The rest are with my stepsons and my son.”

  He took the bag and removed a scroll from the bag, unrolling it, he read it for several a long time. His voice was thick with emotion as he asked, “This is my father’s handwriting?”

  “It is,” Miriam said.

  “He wrote with a fine hand,” Yoni stated, his voice strained.

  Yoni’s disciple, Andreas, came with the water. He gave the cup to Miriam, and quickly left them alone.

  She sipped the clean, relatively cool, water.

  Clearly blinking back tears, Yoni, rerolled the scroll and put it in the bag. He looked at several other scrolls. “He has the Greek books here, as well as those of the Hebrew, I see,” he said as he handed the bag back to her.

  “You don’t want these books?”

  He shook his head, “No. I do not need them. El Elohe Yisra’el has taught me all I need. Keep the books as a remembrance of my parents, or give them to someone who teaches children the ways of Adonai.”

  Miriam nodded. “Very well. Zechariah was like a father to me. His books are virtually all the property he left behind. I will keep the books as a remembrance of him, and when I am gone, they will be used for the instruction of the young.”

  “This is good. He would have liked that, I think.”

  “Yes, that would have pleased him,” Miriam agreed. “Your father showed me from the Prophets much about my life and your life, and the life of my son. You know your father had been struck dumb after he laughed at the angel who brought him the news that you were to be born.”

  “Mother told me that. He regained his voice at my brit milah after confirming my name.”

  “I had heard this,” Miriam said. “Your father told my husband this before my son’s pidyon ha-ben.”

  “You spoke of your son. This would be Yehoshua?” Yoni demanded, his voice low.

  “Yes.”

  “Mother spoke to me about him, often.”

  “Where is Elisheva?”

  “Dead, long ago.”

  “I am sorry to hear that.”

  “I was very young when she died.”

  Miriam nodded. “I understand. She was well along in years when you were born.”

  “Is your son here with you?”

  Miriam smiled. “He came with us, but stayed at the edge of the crowd. I wanted to see you.”

  “And now that you have seen me?”

  “I see your parents in you, and I recall their kindness to me. Both of them would have been so proud of you.”

  A wistful expression passed over Yoni’s face. “I wish I could be sure of that. Father was a priest. The priests, the scribes, the parushim, the tzedukim, none of them have expressed approval of me, my message, or my methods.”

  “Zechariah knew who and what you would be. And he was immensely proud of you,” Miriam said. “He loved you as much as any man has ever loved a son.”

  Yoni’s eyes became suspiciously moist. “Thank you. You are a kind soul, Miriam. I would offer you a blessing, but the last thing you need is my blessing.”

  “You are a priest of Yisra’el, a descendant of Aaron on both sides of your family, from your mother and father. Why would I not want you to bless me as the sons of Aaron were commanded to bless the people of Yisra’el?”

  “Because if any blessing should be forthcoming between us, I would think it would be from you to me,” Yoni offered, his voice reflective.

  “You have been in my daily prayers since before you were born. You will remain in my prayers every day for the rest of your life.”

  He swallowed hard, obviously choked up. “Thank you.”

  Miriam sighed. “Now, I’m going to speak to you as I know your mother would have, if she were here.”

  “Please.”

  “You know it is not particularly wise to confront Herod Antipas about Herodias.”

  “Evil is evil, no matter how well placed the person is who commits it. A man must not take his brother’s widow to wife, if there have been children from his brother’s marriage. A Levitical marriage is for the sake of giving children to the dead man. Further, Herod Antipas divorced his wife, Phasaelis, without cause in order to take Herodias, his own brother’s child, the widow of another of his brothers, to wife. That is evil.”

  “Agreed. But, Yoni, if you speak so strongly about this, Herod will kill you,” Miriam said.

  “Yisra’el has generally killed the Prophets who are sent to her. I am only that voice calling in the wilderness to prepare the way of Adonai. I am as Eliyahu come again to announce the coming of the Moshiach.”

  “So your father believed,” Miriam said. “Eliyahu, however, was taken alive up to heaven, not far from here.”

  He smiled at her. “Yes, Elias took the mantle of Eliyahu not far from here. I can show you the spot that is said to have happened.”

  She sighed. “You aren’t likely to follow his example of being taken alive to heaven if you continue speaking against Herod.”

  “Only Enoch and Eliyahu were ever taken to Paradise alive. Given all the people who have lived and died in the history of the world, I’d be presumptuous to expect I would never have to taste death.”

  Miriam nodded tightly in the affirmative. “That, you would. Take care of yourself, Yoni. It has been good to see you. But you have many people who have come to see you, and hear you teach. I am doing them a disservice by taking your time.”

  “Time and this call from Adonai to announce the need for repentance are all I have. Still my time is limited. Herod will be coming for me, sooner or later, probably sooner than later. We both know I’m a threat to him. The crowds I draw are a threat to him. He fears an insurrection far more than he fears just about anything else. My comments about his so-called wife aren’t as much of a threat to him as is the influence I have on the people. That’s what really terrifies hi
m, as he loves power more than anything else.”

  “I have lost so many people over the years. I really don’t want to lose you, too, just when I have found you.” Miriam heard the wistful sadness in her voice.

  “You will never lose me. I will find you in Paradise and we’ll sit down with my parents, and your parents, enjoying being in the presence of El Elohe Yisra’el and one another.”

  “Life is short, Yoni. Avinu Malkeinu requires us to honor and protect all lives, even our own.”

  “He also requires us to speak the truth at all times, no matter what the cost. I’m trying to call Herod to repent. Herod so desperately wishes to be seen as a good child of the Covenant.”

  Miriam sighed. “You must follow your conscience.”

  Yoni, the baptizer, raised his hands in a priestly blessing, forming his hands into the letter shin, and gave her the blessing that Adonai had once instructed that priests to give to the children of the Covenant.

  “Amein,” Miriam answered at the end of the priestly blessing. “May Avinu Malkeinu give you peace as well, my dear Yoni. You have people waiting for you. Know that my house is always open to you, if you need a place to rest.”

  “That is beyond kind of you, Miriam.”

  “We are family. Is that not what family does for one another, be kind to each other? Shalom, Yoni. May Avinu Malkeinu continue to bless you.”

  She stood and walked away to the place where her husband’s children stood. Each of the boys was wet, as though they had been in the water with the disciples of Yoni.

  “Well?” Lydia asked.

  “He has his mother’s eyes. Come, let us find Yehoshua.”

  “There he is,” Dinah said a few moments later. “In the water with Yochanan, the baptizer, himself.”

  Miriam watched as her son and Yoni exchanged words. She wished she were close enough to hear them. But she did hear the thunder as the water was imposed upon her son, and she saw a dove come down from heaven and land upon Yehoshua. “This is my beloved son, in whom I am well pleased,” she heard the heavenly voice say.