No Woman So Fair

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No Woman So Fair Page 18

by Gilbert, Morris


  “I’ve just been finding that out,” Eliezer said, grinning at the young woman. “I think I’ll let her spoil me for a day or two.”

  “At least that long,” Abram said. “We’ve got to stay here a week and let the herds fatten up and soak up as much water as they can.”

  “Are we really in Canaan?” Sarai asked.

  “We really are, and we’re here to stay.”

  ****

  Eliezer moved about stiffly, but his wound was healing well. They had stayed even longer than a week beside the river, where the grass was so plentiful. Abram had a new light in his eyes and a new spring in his step, and at night he would tell those who gathered around him stories he had heard from his grandfather about the old days, even about the first man, Adam, and his wife, Eve. He felt compelled to plant these stories firmly in the minds of his hearers and to help them memorize, as he had, the names of his ancestors all the way back to Noah.

  Abram and Sarai noticed that the young woman Beoni seemed quite smitten with Eliezer, but now that he was getting better, he paid little attention to her. They discussed this during one of their walks together along the river.

  “When I was his age I wouldn’t let a good-looking woman like that get away,” Abram griped.

  “Don’t give me that,” Sarai scoffed. “You didn’t know any more about women at Eliezer’s age than he does.”

  Abram wrinkled his brow at Sarai. Like most men, he didn’t like to be reminded of his past inexperience in that area, and in his own mind he had revised his own personal history to be more to his liking. His wife occasionally enjoyed reminding him of the truth, but not wanting to embarrass her husband just now, she changed the subject.

  “What peoples have lived in Canaan? I know almost nothing about this place.”

  Abram shrugged. “Neither do I. I’ve tried to pick up what I can—which is little enough.”

  “If the Eternal One says you will own it all, I think we should know as much as possible.”

  “Do you believe that…that all this will belong to us?”

  “If God says so, then yes, I do.”

  Abram stopped and turned to face Sarai. “You have such great faith.”

  “I believe what you tell me, Abram.”

  “You’re a good wife!” Abram suddenly leaned forward and kissed her. “And better looking than ever!”

  “Never mind that.” Sarai pulled away in feigned protest. “What’s that thing over there, that little hill?”

  “It was built by people who lived here long ago. I think they’re ancient tombs.”

  “I wonder about people like that,” Sarai murmured. “They were once as full of life as we are, but now they’ve gone back to the earth.”

  “I think they’re still alive.” Abram had thought long on this matter, and now he said simply, “I don’t think we’re here just for this life. I believe one day I’ll see Noah and Adam.” He smiled at her, then shrugged his broad shoulders. “I can’t prove it, but I don’t think that the Eternal One made us just to let us disappear forever.”

  Abram waved his arm at the lush landscape before them. “All sorts of people have lived in this place, Sarai. I can see why they would want to come here—to conquer this land. Why, before the time of Noah and the great flood this land must have been filled with farmers and shepherds like us!”

  Sarai cast her eyes over the hills and sighed. “It’s a good land, husband.”

  “Yes, but it needs more water. Except for the land along the rivers, everything is dry.” The thought troubled Abram, and he shook his head. “Everything is in the hands of our God. He hasn’t brought us to this place for nothing.”

  The two continued their walk along the river, from time to time casting their eyes south and wondering what lay ahead of them.

  Chapter 15

  “So that’s Damascus,” Abram murmured. He stood at the front of the caravan on a hill overlooking the city, with Sarai on his right hand and Eliezer on his left. “I hear it’s quite a place.”

  Eliezer nodded in agreement and replied, “Damascus donkeys are the best in the world. I think we need to buy some and start breeding them.”

  Sarai laughed and put her hand on the young man’s arm. “You are the strangest young man I’ve ever seen!”

  “Strange? What’s strange about me?”

  “Thinking about donkeys!”

  “Well, what should I be thinking about, mistress?” Eliezer smiled. “That’s my business, to look after the livestock of the master.”

  “A young man like you should be thinking about having some fun. Some dancing and music. Even a little wine.”

  “That’s right,” Abram agreed, nodding. “You’re getting to be an old man.” He looked at his young steward with obvious affection. “We’ll bed down the herds out here where there’s plenty of grass and water. Then we’re going into Damascus! And all of us are going to have a good time.”

  “I think we deserve it,” Sarai said. “It’s been a hard journey.” Their stay in Canaan had not lasted very long. The drought that was affecting the entire region had dried up the rivers and parched the grazing lands of Canaan. Therefore, they had headed northeast toward Damascus, where traders had told them there was still water and green grass.

  Now Sarai looked down on the bustling city from their observation point and said, “I’ve heard so much about Damascus.”

  Eliezer grinned at her. “Have you heard that it’s called the ‘City of Wild Asses’? Not a very romantic name, is it, mistress?”

  “You made that up!”

  “I did not!”

  “He’s right, Sarai,” Abram said, smiling. “I’ve often heard it called that.”

  “I would refuse to live in a place with an awful name like that!” Sarai sputtered.

  “You won’t have to live here for long,” Abram said. “Just until the rains come again to Canaan. It’s a good place to rest awhile.”

  ****

  Damascus was an active place—a city where caravans bound west and south for Canaan and Egypt were outfitted. Situated on a fertile plain, the city was a welcome relief after the dried-out plains that Abram’s party had been enduring. The city was surrounded by flowering fields, rushing streams, and beautifully tended farms. It was also an exciting center of trade, where one could pick up news from almost anyplace.

  As Abram, Sarai, and Eliezer threaded their way through the city, Sarai took in the large open squares and the dark, narrow streets. She eyed the crowds of people, who reflected a variety of races, representing dozens of tribes and nations. The streets were packed, and she found herself jostled by the crowd, dazed by the babble of languages that rose on the air.

  “Look, those are Egyptians,” Abram whispered, nodding toward a group of dark-skinned people.

  “They look haughty,” Sarai commented. “I don’t think I’d like to live with them.”

  “They are proud.” Abram nodded. “After all, they rule most of the world.”

  Sarai watched a group of bearded Armenian caravaneers bargaining with Phoenician traders for dyes and spices, and Hittite merchants calling out the virtue of their wares.

  “I’ve never seen so many donkeys,” Eliezer said. “There must be a thousand of them.”

  Abram had also noted the beasts, which were heavy shouldered and colored a dark brown. “They’re sturdy-looking creatures,” he commented. “I agree with you, Eliezer. We should buy some and begin breeding them.”

  The day passed quickly as Abram became absorbed with watching various caravans being assembled. One of the caravans included over three hundred donkeys, which amazed the three of them. Abram noted the care with which the caravan leaders planned their routes to ensure fresh water from rivers and jealously guarded wells.

  Abram found more and more to interest him as they continued on their tour of the city. Finally he said to the others, “We’ll have to be careful here. We’re foreigners and strangers to these people. We don’t want to make the wrong impression.�


  Sarai glanced up at Abram thoughtfully. “What do you mean?”

  “It means that we have to watch how we speak and what we do, so as not to offend these people.”

  “I don’t think you have to worry about that, master,” Eliezer said quickly. “Our men are well behaved.”

  “But we are strangers here nonetheless, and you know how people can be toward newcomers,” Abram said. “The city dwellers here are used to seeing a variety of people, but just the same, I think we must be careful and not let the men get into any trouble.”

  “What about the women?” Eliezer winked at him. “One woman can cause more trouble than any ten men.”

  Sarai knew his teasing was aimed at her. She sniffed and said, “I don’t think I agree with that! You just take care of the men. I’ll take care of the women.”

  ****

  Sarai and Abram wandered slowly through the famous Damascus bazaar, listening to the vendors hawking their wares. The stench of the skinned carcasses of sheep and goats hung thick in the air but was sweetened by the fragrant aromas of spices and incense.

  “What about this? It would make a nice-looking garment for you, Sarai.”

  Abram had stopped at a vendor of textiles and now held up a piece of delicate purple cloth toward her face.

  Sarai touched it, feeling the fine weave, and exclaimed, “Why, it would take three of these to cover a woman up!”

  The vendor, a wiry man with razor-sharp features and a dark complexion, laughed. “The Egyptians don’t worry about that. This is fine Egyptian cloth. It’s what the finest ladies in Egypt wear, even the wives of the Pharaoh.”

  “But you can almost see through it!” Sarai protested.

  “That’s what Egyptian ladies like.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t be caught wearing this! It would be like going naked.”

  “Some of them do that too.” The vendor winked at Abram.

  “I think you ought to buy it and make yourself a beautiful garment,” Abram urged.

  “I couldn’t wear it. It’s too immodest.”

  “You could wear it just for me—or under your other clothes.”

  Sarai protested, but it was a beautiful piece of cloth, so she allowed Abram to buy it for her. Tucking it under her arm, she muttered, “I don’t think those Egyptian women can be much if they wear clothes like this.”

  They continued on down the street and finally Abram touched her arm. “Look, there’s Eliezer.”

  Sarai looked over to where their steward was walking down the street alone, and she shook her head. “He never seems to care anything about himself. Look at him. Why, he could find a woman anytime he wanted to. He’s so fine looking.”

  “I don’t think he needs to find one among these people.”

  Sarai looked up at Abram. “What do you mean?”

  “Most of them worship Baal or Astarte.”

  “You’re right; he doesn’t need one of those!”

  “That’s all he’ll find here. Astarte worship is very strong in these parts. I’ll be happy if our men don’t get involved with that.”

  ****

  Eliezer was disgusted when he passed by yet another of the small temples that were found all over Damascus. He had wandered all day long and seen many of them, feeling nothing but distaste for them. To him the worship of Astarte was an abomination, involving temple prostitutes. The use of these women attracted men who had no more interest in religion than a stone. He had seen the lust that pervaded the temple worship and shook his head. More than one of the priestesses, as the harlots were called, had attempted to draw him in.

  As he scanned the crowd he was startled to see Gar being guided into one of the temples by a short woman with a painted face, who looked up into his eyes, laughing at him.

  “Gar!” Eliezer shouted and went to him at once.

  Gar turned around, and his face reddened. “Oh, hello, Eliezer.”

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “He’s going with me, and you can go too.” The prostitute smiled brazenly at him. “I’ll get one of my sisters for you.”

  “Never mind!” Eliezer snapped. “Come on, Gar. This sort of thing’s not for you.”

  Gar pulled free from the woman, whose eyes suddenly turned hard. She flashed the two a disgusted look, cursed, and then turned to catch at the robe of a man who was passing by.

  “I wasn’t really going with her,” Gar said weakly, his face filled with shame.

  “Yes, you were. But you won’t now, even if I have to tie you down out with the sheep and goats.”

  Gar dropped his head. “Some of the others went,” he muttered.

  “I’m sure they did! They’ll probably pay a price for it too,” Eliezer said dryly. “You’ve got a good wife. Now, stay away from things like that.”

  ****

  Abram was walking alongside the river after receiving a report from Eliezer that the shepherds were sneaking away from camp to visit Damascus. There was no doubt in his mind what they were doing there. Most of them were impoverishing themselves by giving gifts to Astarte, which meant visiting the prostitutes, or so-called priestesses. Abram had listened to Eliezer’s report and said, “We must get away from here.”

  “I agree—and as quickly as possible.”

  Now Abram moved along the riverbank, enjoying the silence, his head filled with thoughts of the Eternal One. He began to speak aloud, a habit he had acquired when alone. It was a form of prayer, and he really expected no reply, but somehow it eased him to say his thoughts aloud.

  “O Eternal One, you know all things, and you know the thoughts of my heart. Something is wrong about towns and cities. People are different there from those who live in the open. I think I’ve been blessed not being a city dweller, except for the years I spent in Haran. Something about a town pulls a man down—and a woman too, I suppose. What is that? Why is it when men gather together in crowds they do things and think things they wouldn’t dream of when they are alone in the desert?”

  For a long time Abram spoke his thoughts aloud, and finally he found himself by a bend in the river that was covered with papyrus reeds that grew so thickly a man could not see through them. He stood watching the reeds as they swayed in the breeze. He was enjoying the blueness of the sky overhead and the smell of the mud and the river itself, which was a pleasant aroma to him.

  “If I become a dweller in a town, Eternal One, could I find you there?”

  The answer came so sharply that Abram could not tell if the voice were spoken aloud so that anyone could have heard it or whether it was in his own mind.

  It would be hard for you to find me there, Abram. It is always hard for people to find God when their lives are so busy. City people lead busy lives. They have no time for silence. You found me in the silence once, and you will always find me there.

  Abram spoke aloud without thinking. “But what about the people who live in those cities?”

  But this time there was only a long silence, and Abram pleaded, “Speak to me, O God, the only living God, the Eternal God. I need to know where I’m going. I’ve left my home, I’ve buried my parents, and now I need to know what lies ahead.”

  The voice was so still and faint that Abram was not certain at first that he’d actually heard it, but then he knew—as he had many years earlier—that he was standing in the very presence of the Eternal Creator!

  “To your offspring I will give this land….”

  Abram stood for a long time listening to the words of the Eternal One, which did not come to him in a strong voice but as a whisper. Nevertheless, he knew he was listening to the voice of the Creator of all things.

  An impulse took him then, which he knew had not come from himself. Leaving the river at once, he made his way to the hills. It took him a long time to get there, but when he reached the point where he could see the desert stretching out beyond the river, he began to gather large stones. He piled them high to his waist, then fell on his knees before them. “This alta
r I build to you, O Eternal One. How I worship you! There is no other God. The rest are nothing but man’s vain imaginings, but you are the true God. The One who makes all things….”

  Abram did not know how long he stayed on his face before that altar. It was a precious and holy time to him, and when he left, darkness had begun to fall. He walked slowly back toward the camp, knowing that when he reached it, he would need to share all of this with Sarai. She was hungry for God too, a woman of prayer. It was his delight to have such a wife, and he eagerly made his way through the falling darkness.

  ****

  Abram sat with his arm around Sarai in their tent. He had talked for a long time, and she had remained silent, watching his face constantly as he told her of his experience at the river and of building the altar. She drank in his words, and her heart cried out with joy that God had once again spoken to her husband.

  Several times he tried to stop his recitation, but she pulled at him, saying, “No, don’t stop. Tell me more about the Eternal One.”

  Finally Abram shook his head. “I’m hoarse from speaking, Sarai, but my words are weak things. When I repeat what He told me, it doesn’t come across the same way.”

  Sarai took his hand and held it. “Do you think that God speaks to others besides you?”

  “I’m sure He must. He made the whole world and all men. He spoke to my grandfather, and he spoke to Noah. He has always spoken to people.”

  “But we never meet anyone else who knows Him. Why is that, husband?”

  Abram had puzzled over this himself more than once. He struggled to answer, then said, “There are more people in this world than we can even dream of, yet the Creator of all things, the Eternal One, made them all. I have to believe He would not leave them without His voice.”

  “But most men and women never hear it.”

  “I can’t explain it. He is God, and He does as He pleases.”

  Sarai was silent, and finally she whispered, “Oh, Abram, I wish He would speak to me!”

  Abram took her in his arms then and held her. “Perhaps someday He will,” he whispered. “Perhaps He will.”

 

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