Rebekah Redeemed

by Dianne G. Sagan

  “Please, your sister is dead.”

  “Then, let her father take care of her,” Benjamin snapped.

  “He was killed by a lion attacking the flock. She has no one. Miriam told us she had a brother in Bethany. You.”

  Benjamin stared back at Caleb, no emotion on his face and his mouth a straight line. Then his eyes fell on the little girl. A tattered cloak framed her streaked face. Her brown dirty tunic hung ragged on her sturdy frame.

  Caleb waited.

  Benjamin sized up the little girl. A flicker of recognition in the older man’s eyes quickly turned to ice. Stepping closer he reached down to the child and she pulled away. “Look at me, child,” he commanded with a little less animosity in his voice.

  Rebekah lifted her chin and looked into her uncle’s brown, lined face. He pushed the shawl off her stringy brown hair, and for a moment the lines in his face softened and his eyes showed compassion. “You look like your mother,” he mumbled to himself. Then he stood back, cleared his throat and narrowed his eyes once more.

  “You want me to take her in, is that it?”

  “Yes. We have little and cannot take her as our own.”

  “What is in it for my wife and me?”

  “She is strong and a good worker. She is good with lambs. She can help with cooking and drawing water. I know she looks small, but she is strong and obedient. She could be a useful addition to your household. A daughter is not like having a son, but they can work.” Caleb tried to sell the idea to the shopkeeper.

  “Well,” he sized up the child and scratched his bearded chin. “She could help my wife.” He stood in silence, strolled out into the street, and looked up and down at his friends and neighbors. Then, turning on his heel, he walked back to Caleb and said without emotion, “You asked around the village for me? Others know of the child?”

  “We asked people so we could find you.”

  With one more glance up and down the street, Benjamin saw the rabbi walking toward them. “The Torah does say that we are to care for orphans and widows. She is my dead sister’s child, no matter what else happened between us. I will take her in, but not as a member of my family.”

  “Shalom. May you...”

  Benjamin reached for the girl. He interrupted Caleb, “I will not pay you for her. Go back where you came from. I take her because it is my duty under the Law of Moses.”

  Caleb turned to go. Benjamin pushed Rebekah toward the back of the shop. She looked over her shoulder at her father’s friend for the last time.

  “Come. You must meet your mistress. You have taken up enough time. I have a business to run and customers to serve.” He spoke as if he were an important man.

  Rebekah stepped through the door into a small courtyard and into a new life. She prayed silently that it would get no worse.

  Chapter 3

  Benjamin walked quickly across the courtyard leaving Rebekah standing in the shadows of a portico. He was a short, stocky man, hard lines on his face, with strong hands and wide feet. His linen tunic hung over a fringed skirt tied at the waist with a wide, dark green sash where she had seen him tuck his money as customers purchased his rugs and fabrics. His dark green sleeveless cloak matched his sash.

  Rebekah watched him with wide eyes. A woman emerged from a doorway into the courtyard. She was a little taller than Benjamin. She carried herself with her shoulders back and her chin high, with arrogance and contempt in her face and manner. Her features were harsh and her nose looked more like a beak. She had green flashing eyes, and Rebekah would soon learn that the mouth could curve into a crafty smile or go flat with enmity. She wore a long linen tunic, another green full tunic layered over it and tied at the waist with a colorful sash. A cream linen cloak flowed as she walked toward Benjamin.

  His shoulders visibly dropped as she came closer.

  “What are you doing? Why are you not in your shop? How can we live if you don’t tend to business?” she barked at him.

  “Beloved, I have a surprise for you.”

  Her lips curved into a smile and her eyes flashed “What is it? Is it expensive? You have not given me anything for a long time!” Then her eyes focused across the courtyard by the door to the shop. The smile quickly changed to a frown and the angry eyes blazed. “What is that?” she demanded.

  “Your surprise my love.”

  “I don’t need another mouth to feed. I don’t have enough help to properly run a household even as small as ours.”

  “Yes. I know. I…”

  “You didn’t go to the slave market and spend money for this poor excuse for help, did you?” Her voice dripped with accusation and sarcasm. “My mother always said you have no business sense and that I could have done better. But I gave in to marry you because I thought you loved me and I pitied you your need. Now I live in this tiny house and eat common food and wear rags, and you work all day but bring home less than a beggar. Sometimes I wonder why I do not go back to my parents, but now I’m too old to marry well. Your children died as I tried to give them life, and now I suffer alone with only you, without even enough servants to do the least of tasks. I only have one old woman to help me and a young boy, both almost useless. And now you bring me this.” She shook her head in disgust.

  “Wait, Mara, my beloved. Let me explain.”

  “Not now. I don’t feel well. You’ve already ruined my mood and it isn’t even mid-day. Go back to your shop before you lose all your money for being too lazy to tend your customers,” Mara scolded.

  Benjamin turned and walked quickly into his shop. As he closed the door behind him Rebekah could hear him call to a customer, “Samuel, I have such a deal for you today! Come in, come in...”

  Mara leveled her eyes at the child who trembled under the icy glare. The woman called harshly, “Hannah! Hannah! Where are you?”

  An old, bent, wrinkled woman limped as fast as she could from a room in the far corner of the courtyard. “Where is my meal? It should be waiting for me.”

  “It is inside where you…”

  Mara seethed. She slapped the woman across the shoulders with the switch she held in her hand. “I want to eat in the cool open air. Soon it will be too hot to be out. I don’t want my skin to be a parched raisin like yours.”

  Hannah bowed and backed away. As she turned to get the food for her mistress, the harsh voice spit at her, “And do something with that.” She pointed at the shrinking child. The old woman turned and looked to where Mara pointed. Then she waved at the child to follow her.

  Rebekah stood frozen in her place. “Go… before I beat you,” screeched her new mistress. The little girl ran to Hannah, who pushed her ahead of her through the doorway.

  “Help me take these to the mistress. Don’t drop anything if you don’t want a beating,” the old woman said without emotion.

  They hurried to satisfy Mara. Rebekah lifted a wooden bowl of fruit, something she had rarely seen and then only in the market. Bread, soft cheese, and something that looked like bird eggs filled another plate. A pitcher of milk, a glass goblet, and a small bowl of water; it took two trips back and forth to take it all to a low table which was set under a narrow portico at the back of the small courtyard. Mara reclined on a pillowed chaise leaning on one elbow. Rebekah had never seen so much food all at once except for a festival meal at Passover. She couldn’t believe that all this was for just one person.

  As she silently followed Hannah and served Mara, Rebekah tried to stay out of Mara’s reach and out of range of the switch she kept close by. After Mara ate her fill, she pushed the platter away and fell back against the pillows. Putting an arm across her forehead she stared into the blue sky above the open courtyard. Rebekah helped take the food back to the small kitchen.

  The kitchen was a small, dark room with a swept dirt floor. One wall held a few shelves with pottery bowls, glass goblets and jars. Large jars stood underneath the shelves. One held water. Cooking pots and other utensils sat on what looked like a shelf built into the wall. In the corner
was a low built-in bench with a tattered cloak rumpled in the corner. The only light came in from the two doorways. As Hannah worked in silence, Rebekah eased over to the second doorway. It opened into a small space which served as a stable for a donkey. A stick-thatched wall provided some cover for the animal, a manger with feed, and a small watering box. The dung from the donkey and some hay spread across much of the small stable.

  Rebekah slipped through the door and eased up on the donkey holding out her hand, palm up. The donkey sniffed at her bare hand. She stooped down for some hay and fed it to him. Then he nuzzled her and she rubbed his nose.

  The air split with a screech, “Hannah! Come here.”

  Hannah shuffled into the courtyard.

  Rebekah could hear Mara, “I guess I have to keep that dirty little beggar. Benjamin has given her to me as a gift. She isn’t much, but maybe she can work. Clean her up, put something on her that is not rags and then go fetch water. Have you begun preparations for my banquet this evening?”

  “Yes mistress.”

  “Well, go … do as I say.”

  Hannah hobbled into the stable.

  Rebekah whispered to the donkey as tears streamed down her cheeks.

  “Come, child,” said Hannah.

  Rebekah looked up, almost startled. She wiped her face with her sleeve.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Rebekah.”

  “I am Hannah. You will be my helper. Try not to make the mistress angry. She does not have patience for slow or lazy servants. You will work. You can sleep in the stable with the donkey. I sleep here in the corner of the kitchen. You will eat when I eat. We can have scraps left from the table, but mostly you will eat what I eat. Mistress wants you washed and in clean clothes. Do you have anything else?”

  Rebekah shook her head.

  “You can do that with me, but you must speak up with the mistress and master.”

  “Yes, Hannah.”

  “Now, first clean up. I’ll see what I can find for you to wear. Then we must go to the well. Do you know how to bake bread?”

  “My mama and the other women showed me how to grind the barley. I know how to feed the donkey and can help with the sheep.”

  “The master does not have sheep, he is a merchant. I’ll teach you what you need to learn. Now, put that tunic into the fire and take this jar and wash yourself.”

  Rebekah pulled the dirty, tattered tunic off over her head and dropped it into the fire. She dragged the half empty jar of water out into the stable and washed the best she could. Hannah brought her an old linen tunic that almost swallowed the child. She took it off her and tore off some of it and used one of the strips as a belt. Then she tore a piece from her own shawl for her to cover her head when she went to the well.

  As they emerged from the kitchen, Mara turned her head toward them. “Bring her to me,” she commanded.

  Mara surveyed the little girl. “She still isn’t clean enough.” Reaching over and pulling at the voluminous tunic she said, “This will never do. What will my friends and guests think if my slaves are dressed like this? Find something else for her.” She lay back again as if the effort had exhausted her.

  They left the house through a back gate near the kitchen and walked down the narrow street until they came to another gate. Hannah knocked lightly and waited. A young woman and three children crowded into the doorway. The two women spoke in low tones, and the children stared at Rebekah silently. Hannah pulled Rebekah through the doorway with her. The young woman disappeared and came back with a small tunic. They reached down, stripped off Rebekah’s voluminous tunic and slipped the smaller one on in its place. Hannah tied a strip of cloth around Rebekah’s waist and they slipped silently back out the way they came in.

  When they arrived at the well, a group of women stood talking and laughing as they approached. Each drew water and filled her jar, balancing it on her head as she left.

  “Good morning, Hannah. How are you this day?” asked a young woman with twinkling eyes and a sweet smile.

  “Oh, as usual,” she responded “The mistress is not happy today so no one is happy. There is much to do.”

  The women at the well exchanged silent glances. “Who is this?” the young woman said, looking kindly at the little girl struggling to draw water for the jars.

  “The master brought her into the house today. I do not know where she came from.”

  “Let me help you with the water, little one,” she said.

  Rebekah looked at Hannah beseechingly. “You can have help, just don’t always expect it. We must hurry.”

  The woman tenderly touched the little girl’s shoulder and finished drawing the last jar of water for her. She helped her balance it and said “My name is Mary. I can help you when I am here. My sister Martha comes with me, but she is ill today. Who are you?”

  Rebekah managed to smile up at Mary, whose eyes reminded her of her mother Miriam’s. “My name is Rebekah.”

  Mary looked back with softness in her brown eyes.

  Hannah sighed, “Come Rebekah, we must hurry. We have much to do.”

  Rebekah struggled with the smaller water jar and followed Hannah. Some water splashed onto the ground.

  “Don’t spill! You’ll be sent back alone the next time,” said Hannah.

  Chapter 4

  At the afternoon meal, Benjamin closed the shop and joined Mara in the shade of the narrow portico. They leaned on their elbows and the man reported his morning’s sales to his ever-questioning wife. The couple ate leisurely. The shop stayed closed during the worst heat of the day and opened again later in the afternoon. Rebekah stood close by to serve her mistress and master. They talked in front of her as if she didn’t exist.

  “You still have not explained how you acquired my new servant.”

  Benjamin sighed, let his eyes drift upwards and began, “This morning as I closed a sale a young man I thought to be a beggar came to me with her. I dismissed them, but he said he was not a beggar but a shepherd who knew my sister Miriam and her husband Eleazar. My sister is dead.” He spoke casually as if about someone he never knew.

  “She needs to be with her father. Miriam chose her life long ago. My own children are dead and I’m not taking hers.” Mara said indignantly.

  “Eleazar is dead.”

  “So, we are to take her in and raise her? Is that what you think to do? I care nothing for her. She can not replace my precious children.” Mara pretended to cry and pursed her lips.

  “Beloved...”

  Mara cut him off, “You could care more about your dead sister who chose to leave her own family over me, your wife?”

  “No! No. Of course not, beloved one. You are my life. I know how you suffered at the loss of your children. I’m not trying to replace them.”

  She pouted and dabbed her eyes. Then her eyes narrowed. She said, “Then what am I to do with her?”

  “She is strong helping with Hannah. You have complained that you needed another house servant. We didn’t have to pay for one at the slave market. We got her for nothing, beloved,” he commented.

  All emotion disappeared instantly. Mara sat up and touched her finger to her chin, thinking for a moment. Then, she reclined and smiled demurely across the table at her husband. “Yes. I can use her. She will have to be taught manners and the proper way to wait on a lady of means.” Her chin rose even higher and she seemed proud of her new status with another servant.

  “Yes, I will instruct Hannah to teach her all she needs to know,” Benjamin said.

  Mara rose when she had finished eating and glided back into her room.

  Rebekah watched Benjamin wipe his brow and lay back on the lounge. Rebekah and Hannah cleared away the table and the left over food.

  Later, Mara reappeared in a lighter green tunic and cloak. She wore hoop earrings, bangles on her wrists and a fresh linen shawl. Her sandals were decorated with tiny stones and coins, her ankle bracelet jangled as she walked. She had put ashes on her eye lids and lined
her eyes with coal; she put rouge on her cheeks and lips. Rebekah would learn that this was the style of wealthy women, and Mara loved to flaunt it to show she was richer than she actually was. She wanted to impress all who saw her.

  “I’m going to Naomi’s and then to my sister’s.” She stalked out and onto the street, leaving the wooden doors open. The young boy who helped Benjamin in the shop ran and closed them behind her.

  At eleven years old, Rebekah almost managed the household. Hannah still limped around the kitchen and worked from sunup to sundown around the house except on the Sabbath. She seemed ageless to Rebekah … ever ancient, but strong and relentless in her work.

  Rebekah rose every morning at dawn. She started the cooking fire and then fetched the first water of the day before anyone else went to the well. She poured the fresh water into the large jars that stood in the kitchen. Then she fed the donkey and two goats. They were her only friends. Next she prepared something for Hannah to eat and woke her up with a bowl of warm bread and water. She milked the goat and put the milk in a jar in the coolest corner of the kitchen.

  Before anyone else rose, Hannah shuffled about the house at a snail’s pace. Rebekah swept the courtyard and portico and picked leaves and twigs out of the small fountain Benjamin had put in recently for his wife. Then she brought out the pillows and arranged them on the two chaise lounges. They ate outside if the weather was warm enough. Otherwise she aired out and cleaned the small dining room next to the kitchen off the courtyard, fluffed the pillows and filled the painted pottery oil lamps.

  Rebekah made another trip to the well, and on her return she began the bread for the day. She took a small measure of wheat and ground it into flour. Then she mixed the flour with a pinch of leaven from the previous day’s baking and added water, a pinch of salt and a little olive oil. The mistress refused to eat peasant’s bread made without oil. The young girl hummed as she kneaded the dough and shaped it into round loaves. For special festivals she made braided loaves. While the bread rose, she built up the fire and placed the metal plate over the grate on the fire to heat. Then she cooked the large round flat pancake-like loaves. As they finished, she took each one and placed it into a large basket to cool and put the next loaf on the cooking plate.