Martha

by Diana Wallis Taylor

  Now Martha shuddered anew as she recalled the overwhelming horror that had struck the family of her dear friend. Esther had lost not only her father but probably her chance for marriage.

  The two friends met at the well daily, and Esther’s eyes were deep pools of sorrow in her beautiful face. Many a young man in the village had glanced her way with interest before her father’s illness.

  “Now they look the other way as they pass me on the streets,” Esther told Martha one day.

  Martha shook her head in sympathy. “This will pass in time, I’m sure of it. You are worthy to be anyone’s wife. Give them time and their fathers will be calling on your house to seek a bride.”

  Esther didn’t appear to give much credence to Martha’s words. “We’ll see. I may never marry.”

  Esther’s words proved to be prophetic for, as the weeks went by, no offers were received for her hand. Martha feared her friend might share her own fate as an unmarried woman.

  A few months later as they were finishing their evening meal, they were startled by a knock at the gate. Ephraim rose and ushered Esther into the courtyard.

  “May peace be upon this household.”

  “And with you, Esther.”

  She nodded respectfully to Ephraim and hurried over to Martha. Her eyes were shining and her face alight with excitement as she looked around at them all. She caught Martha by the hand. “Oh, my friend, I have good news.”

  Martha took her friend’s hand. “You have news? Your father?”

  Esther shook her head, her voice catching. “We pray every day for God’s mercy and that he will be cleansed, but there is no word.” She took a deep breath and then looked up at Martha. “I have come to tell you—I am to be betrothed.”

  Martha stared at her. “Betrothed? To whom?” She had not heard any word in the village and thought quickly of the eligible young men left in Bethany.

  “His name is Micah, and he is a distant cousin from Bethlehem. His father came to see Mother and Tobias. Micah is older, almost twenty-eight. His wife died and his father said he grieved for a long time, and did not wish to remarry, but he changed his mind and now they seek a bride for him from our tribe. He did not want anyone from their village.”

  “How did his wife die?”

  “In childbirth. It is so sad. The baby died also. Tobias told me Micah’s father is related to my father’s brother.” She smiled shyly. “Micah’s father said that the bride-price Tobias set for me was fair, considering the circumstances.”

  Martha started to comment but held her tongue. Beautiful inside and out, at sixteen Esther was well worth a fair bride price, in spite of her father. She sat down on a nearby bench. “You will be moving to Bethlehem.” It was not a question, for she knew Esther would go to the home of her husband.

  Esther sat down beside her and the two women looked at each other. Martha saw reflected in Esther’s face the sadness she herself was feeling. They would no longer see each other every day at the village well.

  “We will come to Jerusalem for the Passover. We will see each other then,” Esther ventured.

  That was true. People streamed into Jerusalem from the surrounding areas of Judea to celebrate Passover at the Temple. It was something they could look forward to. Martha gathered her courage. “I am happy for you. Your father’s illness has not kept you from becoming a bride.” Esther’s beauty must have outweighed any qualms the family had concerning her father.

  Esther stood. “The betrothal ceremony will be small, but we want you and your family to come.”

  Martha smiled and nodded. She must not cause her friend sorrow by wearing a sad face. Surely it was a time of rejoicing.

  Tobias signed the betrothal document and the wedding was set for the fall after Elul. Micah’s father, Jakin, would then be able to travel the twenty miles to Bethany for the wedding and be home again before the coming of the first rains and Rosh Hashanah.

  Knowing Esther’s mother had little, the neighbors brought gifts of food and wine to the betrothal party so that she would not be embarrassed in front of the groom’s parents.

  Martha brought date cakes that had been packed in stone crocks, and loaves of fresh bread. Judith was a gracious hostess, and Tobias, now the head of their house, made sure each guest was made welcome. The neighbors truly rejoiced for Esther in her good fortune, but Martha wondered if it was more out of relief. Not one of them had approached Tobias on their son’s behalf after Esther’s father left the village.

  Now she observed Esther’s husband-to-be as he and Esther spoke awkwardly—aware of being watched closely by the other guests. Micah was a tall, thin, serious man with a full beard and dark eyes. Martha began to wonder if he ever laughed and her heart became concerned for her friend. Would he be good to her? Then she shrugged. At least Esther would be a bride, and hopefully one day a mother.

  “I hope the children look more like Esther,” she murmured to herself.

  4

  The month of Ab with its summer heat arrived and the grapes shimmered on the vine. Like others in their village, Ephraim’s vineyard was interspersed with date palms, should the grape harvest prove to be small. It would give them another crop to harvest for the family needs.

  The vineyard usually provided enough to make wine for their family, and some years Ephraim was able to sell some of their wine in the marketplace. However, most of the proceeds went to pay the taxes. As she became more proficient in her weaving, Martha began to take her cloth into Jerusalem to trade for other needs of the household. She learned to haggle firmly with the merchants, and sometimes when she won an encounter, she would catch a brief smile on the face of the merchant, who admired her bravery.

  The grapes were picked and Martha worked hard alongside her sister to fill the baskets they moved down the rows of vines. Some grapes would be spread out on the ground on cloth to dry into raisins. As with other crops, the poor of the village were allowed to pick the grapes left behind on the vines.

  The grapes were pressed immediately by people stomping around in the soft pulp in the winepresses. Martha sent Mary first to the winepress, glad that her leg had healed well—there was now no sign Mary had been injured. Pressing the grapes was messy, but Mary and Lazarus laughed and teased each other about their red feet as they took their turn pressing the grapes. Their tunics, though tucked up in their girdles, were stained at the end of the day.

  Martha, bringing another basket of grapes, smiled at their happy faces and watched the juice run down into the bedrock vat. The juice, after the vat was sealed, remained for a short time until the yeast in the grapes turned the sugars into alcohol. Then her family would work together as they drew the juice into jugs, where it was left to settle for another month or so. Finally, her father would strain the wine to remove any sediment, and it would be stored in large jugs and sealed with beeswax.

  When Martha and Esther, taking their turn, pressed the grapes with their feet in the vats, their talk was of the wedding. Esther would wear her mother’s bridal dress, but Tobias would purchase new sandals for her. She would need them on the journey to Bethlehem.

  One Sabbath afternoon, not long after the grape harvest, Martha and Esther sat under the shade of an ancient olive tree. Esther’s wedding was approaching in a few weeks.

  Martha glanced at her friend. “Are you fearful of being a bride?”

  Esther twisted a blade of grass in her fingers and nodded slowly. “I have wondered how it is between a man and a woman on their wedding night. My mother says she will tell me about this when it is time for the wedding. Tobias said Micah is a kind man and I must do all I can to be a good wife.”

  Martha hung her head. “At least you will be a bride, Esther. I have this feeling that I shall never marry.”

  “You are very brave, dear friend. You have a household to take care of, but if God looks with favor on you, perhaps there shall yet be someone.”

  Martha shrugged. “Perhaps, one day.”

  They sat in silence for a whil
e and listened to the birds calling to one another among the olive trees.

  Martha glanced at her friend. “Have you had word of your father?”

  “No,” Esther said softly and large tears slipped down her cheeks. “He will not know I am to be a bride. He shall never see my wedding, or bounce grandchildren on his knees.”

  “I also pray that God will have mercy on him. That he will be cleansed and returned to you one day.”

  Esther wiped her cheeks with one hand and nodded slowly. “May the God Who Sees be merciful.”

  Martha was suddenly aware the shadows were lengthening as the sun began its descent behind the mountains. It was nearly time to close the Sabbath. The two friends rose and walked slowly down the dusty road toward the village. As they came to the place of parting, Esther reached out and suddenly embraced Martha. “I will miss having such a friend.”

  Tears sprang to Martha’s eyes and she nodded. She watched Esther walk away and her heart was heavy.

  As Esther’s wedding day dawned, Martha opened the small chest and lifted out the deep blue shawl she’d woven to give to a future mother-in-law when she was betrothed. She smoothed the soft material with her hand, then carefully folded it over her arm and joined her family as they walked to Esther’s home.

  Music came from the small courtyard. A young man in the village played his flute and some of the women the tambourine and small cymbals. The sound lifted Martha’s spirits. This was a day for happiness. She would not be sad to mar her friend’s wedding day.

  Esther’s mother, Judith, had made places for the pallets of the groom and his parents who had arrived the evening before, and now she was putting them away in the storage room for the day.

  Esther came to the gate to welcome them and Martha held out the shawl. “It is my wedding gift to you. When you wear it, you must think of me and know that I will remember you also.”

  Esther took the shawl and her eyes were moist. “I will treasure it always.”

  The two young women entered Esther’s home to prepare her for the simple wedding.

  Tobias had arranged for four young men to hold the huppah, the canopy brought from Jerusalem by Abijah, the rabbi who taught the young boys in the village. He would also perform the ceremony.

  Martha brushed Esther’s long hair until it shone. It would be the one day she would wear it down her back. Then Martha, Mary, and Judith helped Esther into her wedding dress and arranged the bridal veil over her headband of coins. She slipped her feet into the new sandals Tobias had given her and was pronounced ready.

  Micah was standing in a corner of the courtyard with his parents. As Martha observed him, his eyes darted back and forth, watching the festivities. He didn’t smile, and Martha felt a stab of concern for Esther. Was Micah nervous? Perhaps because there was no place for him to gather friends as he would in his own village. He had no friends here. Her tender heart went out to him, and when she caught his eye, she gave him what she hoped was an encouraging smile.

  The canopy was held in place and Micah moved into position under it as Tobias proudly led Esther into the courtyard. Walking in a slow circle around the huppah, with his sister on his arm, Tobias stood tall as, in the place of his father, he entrusted Esther to her new husband.

  Neighbors and friends joined in the music and dancing and brought what they could spare as gifts. A couple of chickens, bread, pillows stuffed with feathers, wine, and date cakes. Martha was glad the young couple would stay there for their wedding night and leave with Micah’s parents for Bethlehem in the morning. With the warmth of the late summer, a pallet had been made on the roof of the house for the bride and groom, decorated with flowers and greenery. It was the most privacy the small house and courtyard could offer.

  Esther blushed and Martha pretended not to hear the ribald comments that the men called out to Micah as the newly married couple was ushered to the foot of the stairs leading to the roof of the house. Micah waited while Esther’s attendants prepared her for her marriage bed.

  Laughing among themselves, the men gathered in the courtyard as their wives began to put away the food. Nathan joined them, but was his usual quiet self. His wife, Rhoda, did not attend. The wasting illness consumed her strength and body, and now she was unable to leave her bed. The village women shook their heads. It was only a matter of time before Nathan was a widower.

  Martha and Judith helped remove Esther’s wedding dress and Mary carefully lifted off the veil. Martha placed the headdress of coins in a pouch as Esther’s dowry, which she was to take with her.

  Judith hugged her daughter tightly. “May you be blessed on this day, my daughter, and may your marriage produce fine sons.”

  Martha hugged Esther also, seeing the fear in her eyes, but words would not come. They had all been spoken before. She could only smile encouragingly at her friend and turn to leave with Judith and Mary. They passed Micah on the stairs. He gave them a brief smile and went slowly up to join his bride.

  As the guests left the courtyard to return to their homes, Lazarus walked on one side of his father with Nathan on the other. Ephraim seemed so frail lately and sometimes stumbled.

  That night Martha lay awake a long time thinking of Esther and Micah. She knew Esther would be found to be a virgin and hoped Micah was gentle with her. Thinking of marriage, a great longing rose like a wave in her body, and she clasped her hands to her breast to stifle it. Had she cried out? She looked over at Mary and Lazarus and they did not stir. She must put the thoughts of marriage aside now. Chiding herself for her foolishness, she pulled the rug tighter around her body and closed her eyes for sleep.

  In the cool of the early morning, Martha woke and lay quietly thinking of the events of the day before. Were all young brides afraid as they awaited the unknown prospect before them? How had it gone with Esther? She rose and dressed quickly, anxious to talk to her friend, but knowing she must prepare a meal for her family. She sliced some bread from the day before, put out some figs and cheese and a pitcher of goat’s milk. As Mary, Lazarus, and Ephraim gathered at the table, she made sure they had everything they needed and then hurried out the gate, almost running to Esther’s home.

  The sun was already spreading its warmth over the village, and she knew the sooner the wedding party was on the road to Bethlehem, the better. Would her friend have a few minutes to talk? Martha’s sandals made a soft, slapping sound in the dust as she walked quickly to Esther’s home.

  To her dismay, Micah and his father were already packing the donkey as Judith helped Esther carry her bundles of wedding gifts and clothes from the house.

  Questions ran rampant through Martha’s mind, but she could see there was no time to ask them. Then Esther pulled Martha into the courtyard away from anyone who could hear them.

  Martha looked into her friend’s face and saw happiness. “It went well?”

  Esther blushed and whispered, “I think Micah will be a good husband.”

  The two young women embraced a last time.

  “May God be with you, Esther, and give you sons.”

  “Thank you, dear friend, and may the God Who Sees bless you as you care for your family.”

  The donkey was soon ready. Esther embraced her mother, brother, and sister-in-law with tears. Martha’s family joined her along with a few of the neighbors to see them off.

  Martha watched the group move slowly down the road and felt as if she could not breathe for the weight of the sorrow she carried. Ephraim started to speak to her, but when she turned to him, tears spilling from her eyes, he merely nodded and turned away. She watched until the wedding party became mere specks and disappeared around a bend in the road. Finally she too turned toward her home. The day was beginning and there was work to do.

  5

  Martha stood in the center of the courtyard of their home in Bethany and watched a hawk circle lazily over the barley fields. The heavy rains of the month of Tebet had stopped and the fields were golden in the warm Judean sunshine. Larks and doves filled the air
with their songs as they called to one another. The years like leaves had drifted by, from green and promising spring, to the subtle shades of autumn and winter. Other girls and young men of Bethany had married and had children. As she passed them in the village, she was aware that some of her former friends looked at her with puzzlement and pity. She was nearly twenty, and still unmarried.

  She shaded her eyes as she looked up and for a moment envied the hawk as it soared freely on the wind currents. How long had it been since she had done as she pleased? There seemed so much to do and so little time. For a brief moment, tears threatened, and she forced them back. She shook herself as if to dispel the dark thoughts that seemed to occupy her mind lately.

  Martha turned toward the road that wound from the village past their home. She was suddenly aware of voices raised in song and intermittent laughter. A group of women were coming down the road. She recognized Phoebe in the middle of the group, and remembered her talking at the well about going to Jerusalem to buy her wedding clothes. The women waved to Martha as they passed but didn’t invite her to join them. She waved back as casually as she could, but a great lump had formed in her chest. Phineas. The thought of him and that bitter disappointment still was a wound in her heart, but there was nothing to be done for it. She turned resolutely into their small courtyard.

  The smell of fresh bread baking in the outdoor clay oven brought her mind back to the tasks at hand. She put down the basket of leeks and garlic she’d gathered from the outside garden and lifted the bread out with a flat wooden paddle, setting it to cool.

  She looked around the small courtyard in front of their humble home and felt a sense of pride. Only slightly larger than most of the humble dwellings in Bethany, their home was made even more spacious by the extensive courtyard Ephraim had built. In a protected area by the side of the house, their three goats butted each other playfully. Next to them their small flock of sheep eyed Martha with their large, soft eyes. The donkey swished his tail and looked up at her expectantly. The animals were hungry, but she turned away. Lazarus would tend to them when he got home.