I started writing this story back in 2008 on my original lenten blog. It has been on my heart, though I had set it aside. I wasn’t sure that it was a story that anyone cared to read. And then our hard drive crashed awhile back, I feared that the original had been lost forever. And I let it go… Until a friend sent me a message asking about it, and whether I had written any more. Six years later. It had touched her and she saved a copy. I asked her if she could send it to me. And lo! she found it in the archives of my old blog and sent the link. Here it is. I hope that it blesses you as much as it did me in re-reading it.
She stands by the doorway holding in her hands a sack of bread and dried figs, and an extra robe to keep Him warm. He has said that he must leave on an important journey, one that will fulfill the Will of His Father. There isn’t much time to prepare, and she remembers the story of her ancestors fleeing into the desert, without enough time to even allow the bread to rise. She smiles. Her heart swells with love for Him. He has grown into a fine man. Joseph would be proud.
He comes in from bathing in the well, His hair is still wet and His robe smells of lavender and sunshine, just as His clothes have done since He was a babe. Once again, her heart overflows.
“I have packed you some bread and some figs so that you won’t be hungry. And here is an extra robe to keep you warm. These spring nights can be so cold,”
“Woman”, he says smiling “you spoil me.”
“Yes, but it is only because I love you so”, Mary smiles back.
He takes the sack and the robe tenderly from her hands. She gazes up into His soft brown eyes, those beautiful eyes, then reaches up and tweaks His beard.
“Kol tuv”, she says.
He reaches for her hand, which is still resting on his cheek, and squeezes it.
“L’hitraot”, He replies with a wink, and steps out into the lane.
The neighbours are busily going about their daily business. Some look up and wave a greeting to Jesus as He sets out. Mary watches Him make his way down the street. He stops at the end of the lane to talk to a little girl. Her mother, Rivka has been very ill and Mary reminds herself to stop by with some lentil soup.
She wakes from her reverie in time to see Jesus hand his sack of food to the child, laying his hand on her head as if in blessing. He tosses His robe over one shoulder and walks on, the sun creating an aureole in the curls of His hair.
She feels a bitter sting in her nose and a tear rolls from the corner of her eye. She wipes it away with her veil, not understanding why she should be so emotional. She gathers herself, takes a deep breath of the fragrant spring air and steps back into the house to attend to her chores…
*Kol tuv – Be well, L’Hitraot – See you soon
© 2008 Nissa Gadbois