Desiree had recommended a parchment and linen shop owned by an Egyptian Coptic. Ian wanted to purchase more parchment for his Book, and all four needed to purchase linen for new clothes.
They walked to the market quarter with Desiree next to Ian and Serena next to Jacques between the two knights. Ian and Jacques would rather have switched positions, but out of courtesy the boys let the girls choose whom they walked beside.
Jacques asked Serena, “How were you able to remain in Jerusalem when most of the other Jews were either killed or forced out of the city when the city was taken?”
Serena answered, “My father and I had business in Nazareth when the city was captured. My father petitioned Godfrey to be able to continue operating his blacksmith shop in the city. Godfrey approved his petition, because my father was known as the best, or at least one of the best, swordsmiths in Palestine. Godfrey and the other barons allowed many skilled tradesmen to remain in the city. There are those who resent Godfrey’s liberal position, but he promised his protection and has been good to his word.”
Ian, overhearing the exchange, asked Desiree, “How have you, a Muslim, been able to remain in the city?”
Desiree, apparently prepared for the question, replied, “When the city was overrun, I was serving and living in the hospital and the monks gave me sanctuary. The monks need the skills of all the healers they can get, so they concealed my presence until the fighting was over. The abbot petitioned Godfrey and the barons to allow me to stay.”
“I, for one, am glad both of you ladies reside in the city,” Ian replied.
“Well said,” replied Jacques. “Most of the vendors in the market are either Jews or Muslims, and even though only a handful of each live in the city, many come here every day except holy days to conduct their business. It’s a practical matter. Godfrey’s position is Jerusalem, as a Christian city, must protect all within her borders, at least as long as he’s in charge.”
Ian added, “The only non-Christians allowed to have weapons in their possession are the swordsmiths. All Jewish and Muslim vendors are searched for weapons prior to entering the city, so no revolt can be instigated and disturb the peace.”
“Here’s the shop,” Desiree announced and walked in, followed by the rest.
The sales room smelled of fresh new linen and musty old parchment. Ian looked around the small shop. Piles of linen, parchment, and paper lay on the tables and shelves, and were stacked on the floor. Several ancient Egyptian artifacts were tucked in the room’s nooks and crannies.
“Welcome, Serena, Jacques, Ian, and Desiree,” the wizened Egyptian shop owner greeted them.
The four exchanged puzzled looks.
Ian thought, I have never met this man before, and asked, “How do you know my name?”
The old man didn’t directly reply to Ian’s question. “I’ve been expecting you and your friends.”
Ian studied the Egyptian closely, a smallish man, shrunken by age, with thin white hair, gnarly hands, and thin wrists sticking out from a long sleeve white linen tunic which stopped at his brown knobby ankles. His almost black eyes pierced Ian to his soul, making him feel like the man knew everything about him in an instant.
Desiree remarked, “I don’t understand. I’ve purchased linen here once and don’t remember mentioning my name.”
“I saw the four of you in a vision.”
Jacques said to the other three, “Let’s leave. You brought us to the shop of a madman, Desiree.”
“Don’t go. Please let me explain myself. We can talk more comfortably in the back of my shop.”
“I am curious,” said Ian. He thought, either he is a fascinating old Egyptian, or an old fraud. I would like to find out which.
The old man stepped past them to the front door and put out his ‘closed’ sign in Arabic. He engaged the door latch, walked to the back of the sales room, lifted the curtain, and motioned for them to follow.
They followed, although Jacques held back as though he was on the alert for robbery or worse.
The small back room was the old man’s living quarters. He motioned for them to sit upon the pillows preplaced on the floor for five. His quarters had a blanket roll for sleeping, a basket for clothes, a small brick fire pit for cooking, and a basket containing a small pot, a couple of dishes, and several cups.
Once they were settled, the old man said, “Can I offer you some tea before we begin?”
All but Jacques accepted the offer, whereupon the old man placed a pot of water on his fire pit to heat. Addressing the group, he said, “My name is Achmed. I’m an Egyptian Coptic and seller of fine linen, parchment, and paper.” He turned to Ian and said, “I have just the parchment Ian needs for his Book of Healing to be translated in Hebrew and Arabic. In fact, I’m available to assist with the Arabic for words which have no direct translation if Ian would like.” Achmed watched Ian as though looking for a reaction.
Ian was startled to hear Achmed speak of his Book of Healing. He hesitated, then asked, “Desiree is helping me with the Arabic translation, but how are you aware of my enterprise?”
Without replying, Achmed selected four mugs from a shelf near where he was sitting and asked, “Jacques, are you sure you won’t have some tea? I have five cups and plenty of tea.”
Jacques said, “Fine, I’ll have some tea, thank you, but you haven’t answered Ian’s question,” in an irritated voice.
“Patience, my son. As we have our tea, I’ll explain all. I’ve been patiently waiting to meet the four of you for some time.” Achmed poured hot water on top of the tea leaves in the five cups. “Honey for anyone?”
Desiree replied, “A dab for me, please.”
“Me, too,” said Serena.
Achmed offered Desiree his honey pot. She drizzled a small amount of honey into her cup and passed the bowl to Serena.
Achmed sipped his tea, leaned back, and said, “Where do I begin. First let me say that you four are special individuals. I will ask each of you to accept a millennium of service to humanity. This service will provide you with immeasurable joy and indescribable misery. You’ll outlive all of your contemporary family, friends, and acquaintances except each other. You’ll witness and participate in many major future events of the world and suffer loneliness and self-doubt, but will not die.”
Jacques started to rise to his feet. “How can you expect us to believe this poppycock?”
“Sit, please sit my friend. Let me tell you my story.” Achmed motioned for Jacques to sit. “Please.”
Jacques looked at Ian. Ian nodded for him to sit, so Jacques sat back down.
“Enjoy your tea and allow me to tell you my tale.”
Twenty-One
Achmed leaned back against a pillow, set his cup on the floor and began his tale.
“During the reign of Herod the king, a beggar approached my shop as two customers departed with armloads of linen. I came to the door of the shop weary from a long day and asked, ‘What can I do for you?’”
The ragged emaciated beggar replied, “Sire, a crust of bread, a sip of water.”
I replied, “Wait here,” and retreated into my shop. I offered him a plate of food and a cup of tea. “You may sit at the side of my shop and eat. Please return my utensils.”
The beggar nodded and smiled a toothless smile.
I was piling my fine linens in neat stacks after the last customers left when three strangers entered my humble shop. The three were dressed elegantly in Eastern style fine silk flowing robes tied at the waist with silk sashes, and each wore a fierce weapon at their waist.
The tallest stranger carried a tarbarzin, a saddle hatchet with a crescent-shaped blade from Persia, a second carried a farasa with a single edge blade from India, and the third carried a scimitar from Arabia. They were obviously men of power and money, and could be lucrative customers.
I bowed slightly to them, and said, “My lords, welcome to my humble shop. How may I be of service?”
The tallest of the three introd
uced himself as Melchior, “We’re interested in purchasing some fine Egyptian papyrus. We’re scholars and require quality parchment to record our teachings.”
“You’ve come to the right place. First, may I offer you some hot tea?”
“We appreciate your hospitality, but we have urgent business. We do not wish to offend.”
“As you wish, my lords. I have only the finest parchment. If you’ll excuse me for a slight moment, please consider my quality Egyptian linen while I bring some parchment samples.” I bowed and went to the back of the shop. I had no fear that these three would pilfer any of my goods for the few minutes it would take.
On my return I found the three admiring the rolls of linen. “That’s the finest linen from Egypt. With it you can make robes that will prove exceptionally cool and fresh in hot weather.” Noting their multicolored silk-covered turbans, I added, “And with a light covering of silk for color will make fine turbans. Here are a few samples of my parchment.”
Each of the three accepted a sample and examined it carefully by sight, touch, and smell. Melchior asked, “May I borrow a writing utensil to evaluate the scribing quality?”
I retrieved my stylus and inkpot and handed them to Melchior, who wrote something in his own language on the sample.
“If your parchment for sale is at least the quality of these samples, we’ll take ten square yards for cutting into pages rather than use as scrolls.”
“Sirs, the products are better than the samples. I’ve used these samples for many years, whereas I only recently obtained my latest shipment of parchment.”
“You’re a convincing salesman with a desirable product. I commend you, Achmed.”
“How do you know my name? I don’t remember telling you.”
“Achmed, besides the purchases, we have another reason for visiting you this day. We have a mission for you.”
I was taken aback. I studied the three for a minute and replied, “But, we’ve only just met.”
“You’ve just met us, but earlier we were told in a vision to call you on a mission. A mission of vital importance that will change the course of your life. A long life.”
“I’m an old man, not suited to a mission. I’m barely able to run this poor shop.”
“You’re not nearly as old as we. We’ve been known by many names over the centuries. I am Melchior from Persia,” he pointed to the man with the farasa, “this is Caspar from India,” then indicated the man with the scimitar, “and this is Balthazar from Arabia. We have traveled far and long to arrive here at this time.”
Ian coughed. “Sorry to interrupt your story, Achmed, but are you saying you met the three wise men, the Magi?”
“Let’s get out of here,” Jacques said. He stood poised to leave.
“No, this is getting interesting. I want to hear more,” replied Ian. “What about you, Serena, Desiree?”
“We’ll stay, if you desire,” Desiree said.
Serena nodded assent.
Jacques sat back down. “What a waste of time!”
Achmed continued unperturbed, I studied the men with skepticism. They each looked younger than I. “How old are you?” I asked.
“We rarely reveal our ages.” Melchior glanced at his companions. “In your case we will make the exception. We’re over a thousand years old.” Melchior waited for his statement to sink in to me.
My eyes opened wide in astonishment. These men whom I initially surmised as wealthy nobles were not in their right minds. “Thank you, sirs, but are you playing me for a fool? I’ve had a long, tiring day.”
“No, Achmed, we could tell you many wondrous stories of our travels and exploits, but we’ll only tell you we’ve been kings, scholars, travelers, warriors, and teachers for a thousand years. We helped start the library in Alexandria over three hundred years ago. We’ve fought many battles and been involved in many ventures for the benefit of mankind. We speak several languages and have lived and know the history of many civilizations.”
“I see you’re more than average men. What can you do to prove yourselves?”
“We’re on a mission to witness the arrival of the King of the Jews and we invite you to join us.”
“I would rather not have Herod know I exist.”
“We’ve already been to Herod and understand why you feel this way. He’s a cruel and evil king. We speak of the King of the Jews as promised by the Hebrew prophets.”
I pondered the three men’s offer. Should I accompany them? If I did, I was embarking on a most wondrous journey. I decided to keep an open mind and, if their story proved false, I wouldn’t have lost much, but if their story proved true, my life could change tremendously.
On the way to Bethlehem I told the Magi I was sixty years old. My wife had already passed away and one of my sons had been killed by Roman soldiers in a skirmish in the desert. My other son had a family in Egypt and served as my buyer and shop manager in Port Said. I maintained a home near my son in Egypt and lived in the back of my shop in Jerusalem when in town selling my merchandise.
The Magi introduced me to two other travelers, Elymas and Gaspar, and I was told they had already accepted their missions. I found Gaspar to be open and friendly, but Elymas acted aloof and unpleasant.
When we arrived at our destination, a bright star shone from almost directly overhead. The small village of Bethlehem consisted of a few dwellings and an inn. The Magi headed toward a dwelling with a cave manger for a few domestic animals. As though they had been here before, they proceeded directly to the entrance of the cave. A man approached them from inside the cave, apparently on guard for intruders. I saw a woman inside the cave kneeling over an animal trough lined with fresh hay and a blanket, attending to a baby.
“Good Sir, may we approach and see your child?” Melchior asked.
The man looked them over, their noble bearing, their fine clothing and, deciding they had honorable intentions, said, “Enter friends. I am Joseph and my wife is Mary.”
The Magi followed the man to the woman and her child, looked into the trough turned cradle, knelt, and worshipped the baby reverently. “Blessed Mother of the Son, we’ve journeyed far and long to witness the arrival of the King of the Jews.”
Joseph and Mary looked at each other in awe. As I learned later, Simeon had spoken of the greatness of the child’s mission, and the anguish his mother would have to endure. Anna the prophetess, who devoted herself to temple service, testified that He was the Redeemer. Here was another sign that they with their child were embarked on a special mission.
Joseph broke the reverential silence. “He is two weeks old. We took him to the temple a few days ago so he could be circumcised.”
Melchior replied, “You must accomplish everything according to your traditions. Prophesy tells us the child will grow and mature into a King.”
I looked at Elymas and Gaspar. Gaspar was in as much awe of the unfolding events as I, but Elymas appeared to be unaffected, or if he was, it was contrary to the spirit I felt. Gaspar and I moved in closer to the cradle and knelt next to the Magi.
The baby seemed to have an aura about its person, but perhaps it was only the lighting provided by the few candles and the lamp placed around the cradle.
After what seemed like a moment, but may have been many minutes, the Magi arose and excused themselves. They went to their camels and returned with three packages. Caspar offered a package containing gold, Balthazar gave a gift of frankincense, and Melchior offered a jar of myrrh.
They bowed to Mary and placed the packages on the ground next to where she was kneeling by the cradle.
Mary, apparently becoming somewhat accustomed to marvelous events, humbly said, “Thank you, good sirs, for honoring us with your visit, and for the gifts.”
Joseph added, “I am but a humble carpenter. We were only able to sacrifice two doves when we took our son to the temple. You’re too kind to us.”
Melchior replied, “Sir, we wish we had more to give. We hope our meager gifts will aid you i
n the difficult days ahead. We were interviewed by Herod, and we’re concerned for your child’s and your welfare.”
“We plan to return to Nazareth as soon as Mary and our baby are able to make the long journey.”
“Herod asked us to return and report the whereabouts of the babe, so, as he claims, he could come and worship him also. Herod will not tolerate another King in Israel. He’s a merciless tyrant and wouldn’t hesitate to kill your child. We must continue on our journey. We won’t tell him we found you. We will pray for your protection. May God bless and keep you in his safekeeping.”
I silently followed the Magi to their camels. Elymas and Gaspar trailed me. We all sat upon our camels, kneed them to standing positions, waved goodbye to Joseph and Mary, and departed.
That evening after dinner and before prayers I asked Melchior, “The gifts you gave to the young couple and their child; did they have any significance?”
“They were gifts worthy of a King. They were compact enough to carry on a long journey and can be easily converted to currency, or bartered, for the purchase of necessities.”
“Are they symbolic of anything?”
“You’re an astute observer, Achmed, which is one reason you have been chosen. The myrrh is used for embalming or preserving the dead, the gold represents the needs of the present, a durable commodity for use in the here and now, and the frankincense is used in perfumes and symbolizes a clearing of the air, or clearing the way for the afterlife. The child is the creator of the world in the past, the King of the Jews in the present, and the Savior of Mankind in the afterlife. Do you understand?”
“I’m trying to grasp these concepts, even though I’m only a simple Egyptian merchant aware only of the Gods of Egypt. I wish to learn more of this King and his legacy, life, and purpose.”
“As it should be,” Melchior replied. “Perhaps you will obtain your wish.”
After prayers we all retired to our bedrolls and each of the Magi dreamed that a voice warned them not to revisit Herod, but to return to their homes by another way.
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