by Woods, Karen
She had made all of these garments while she had still been in Yerushalayim, after Zechariah told her she was to be married and before she had been told to whom she was to be married. Zechariah and Elisheva had given her the gold, silver, and scarlet thread for the robes. She had worn these clothes only once before, at her kiddushin, the ceremony in which she had been consecrated as Yosef’s bride. After today, these would be her Festival clothes. After veiling, she came again into the courtyard.
The other women and their children had set up the courtyard for the festivities. It all looked so lovely. Miriam blinked back happy tears.
Several of the other neighbor women were gathered there, waiting for her.
Naomi, David’s wife, smiled broadly. “Well? What do you think?”
“I am blessed beyond all imagining that I should have neighbors, and kin, such as all of you,” Miriam said.
Naomi said, “As you have no family of your own here, we will walk with you, stand with you, as your mother and sisters would have done.”
“I am honored by your care,” Miriam said.
Hannah dismissed that with a shake of her head. “Neighbors care for each other. You look so beautiful, Miriam.”
Hannah’s boy, Amir, returned with the wine. David, the winemaker, and the boy, along with a couple of David’s workers carried several large earthenware water jars into the courtyard. There was enough wine there for, at least, one hundred people, she estimated.
“Where do you want the wine?” David asked.
“I didn’t send enough money for all of this,” Miriam protested.
David laughed. “Let me be the judge of that, as it is my wares.”
“Thank you, David,” she said, blinking back more happy tears. “I do appreciate this.”
“It is little enough,” David replied. “Besides, Yosef paid me well for the wine for his daughters’ feast and we are family. This wine has already been blended with water. It’s ready now to drink.”
Hannah directed the men to put the great jars of wine down near the courtyard’s cistern.
“They’re ready,” one of Devorah’s sons, eight year old, Avner, told his mother. “Yosef sent me to tell you that they’re ready any time you are, Miriam.”
Miriam drew a deep breath. “Then I suppose it is time.”
She walked in procession, half way around the block, with the neighboring women, joined by Yosef’s daughters and daughters-in-law, towards the front of Yosef’s house. Several of the women played timbrels and sang as they walked, drawing the attention of the rest of the neighbors.
By the time they had reached the front of Yosef’s house, the crowd in the street had grown to include all the neighbors. There would be no problem with having enough witnesses for the minyan. She was glad David had brought the extra wine. At least, they’d have something to give people to help them make merry later tonight.
Yosef had set her father’s prayer shawl as a chuppah, a canopy, suspended overhead from long wooden poles at the corners, each pole held firmly by a boy. Yosef’s youngest son, seven year old Yaacov, held one pole. Yosef’s nephews, Yaacov and Yoses, held other poles. The fourth pole was held by Amir.
A small table, covered in linen, and containing a single glass of wine sat beneath the canopy. Yosef stood there, waiting, for her. He’d changed into his Shabbat clothes. There was only happiness on his face. She couldn’t help smiling at him in return, even though he couldn’t see that smile because of her veiling.
The day was rapidly drawing to a close. The western sky, resplendent in reds and oranges, promised a good day for tomorrow.
She walked under the canopy and stood beside Yosef.
He smiled at her and took her hand in his. She squeezed his hand.
Yosef spoke to the crowd. “Friends, thank you for coming to help us celebrate. I simply cannot afford to provide a feast for all of you. So, we’re having an unusual feast tonight, with each family who wants to eat with us bringing their own dinner. But I understand my Miriam has arranged for wine and music and dancing, after prayers, this evening. So, please join us in the courtyard behind my house, then. Now, let us observe the requirements of halakhah in regards to nissuin.”
He took the cup in his hands and recited the customary blessing over wine, “Barukh atah Adonai Eloheinu melekh ha olam, bo're p'ri hagafen.” Blessed are You, Lord, our God, King of the universe, who creates the fruit of the vine.
Then he sipped from the cup and gave the cup to Miriam. She lifted her veil enough with one hand that she could drink a sip of the wine. Then she gave the cup back to Yosef.
Shimon, Yosef’s son, stepped forward, took the cup, and recited the next in the series of blessings, “Barukh atah Adonai Eloheinu melekh ha olam shehakol bara lichvodo.”
Blessed are You, Lord, our God, King of the universe, who created everything for His glory.
After taking a sip from the cup, he stepped back and Yehuda, Yosef’s other son, stepped forward, to give the next blessing, “Barukh atah Adonai Eloheinu melekh ha olam, yotzer haa’dam.” Blessed are You, Lord, our God, King of the universe, the creator of man.
Halphai, Yosef’s brother, stepped up, took the cup from Yehuda and gave the blessing, “Barukh atah Adonai Eloheinu melekh ha olam, asher yatzar et ha-adam b’tzalmo, b’tzelem d’mut tavnito, v’hitkin lo mimenu binyan adei ad. Baruch atah Adonai, yotzeir ha-adam.” Blessed are You, Lord, our God, King of the universe, who creates man in your image, fashioning perpetuated life. Blessed are You, Lord, creator of man.
David, the winemaker, stepped forward to chant the blessing, “Sos tasis v’tageil ha-akara b’kibutz baneha l’tocha b’simcha. Baruch atah Adonai, m’sameach Tzion b’vaneha.” May Zion rejoice as her children are restored to her in joy. Blessed are You, Lord, who causes Zion to rejoice in her children’s return.
Devorah’s husband, Eli, stepped forward to pray, “Sameiach Tesameach reiim ha-ahuvim k’sameichachca y’tzircha b’gan eden mikedem. Baruch atah Adonai, m’sameiach chatan v’chalah.” Grant perfect joy to these loving companions, as you did your creations in the Garden of Eden. Blessed are You, Lord, who grants the joy of groom and bride.
Hannah’s husband, Adam, came forward to give the last of the seven blessings. He chanted, “Baruch atah Adonai Eloheinu melech ha-olam, asher bara sason v’simcha chatan v’kallah, gilah rinah ditzah v’chedvah, Salome v’achavah v’shalom v’reut. M’hera Adonai Eloheinu yishammah b’arei Yhudah uv-chutzot Y’rushalayim kol sason v’kol simcha, kol chatan v’kol kalah, kol meitzhalot chatanim meichupatam u-narim mimishte n’ginata. Baruch atah Adonai, m’sameiach chatan im hakalah.” Blessed are You, Lord, our God, King of the universe, who created joy and gladness, groom and bride, mirth, song, delight and rejoicing, love and harmony and peace and companionship. Lord our God, may there ever be heard in the cities of Judah and in the streets of Jerusalem voices of joy and gladness, voices of groom and bride, the jubilant voices of those joined in marriage under the bridal canopy, the voices of young people feasting and singing. Blessed are You, Lord, who causes the groom to rejoice with his bride.
Everyone answered, “Amein.”
Then Miriam and Yosef went into his stone house and closed the wooden door firmly behind them. Yosef latched the door behind him.
Miriam removed her veil and hung it on a hook.
“Would you like more wine?” Yosef asked after lighting two lamps. “We have some talking to do.”
She shook her head ‘no’. “There will be wine with dinner. But you sit. I’ll get this for you. That’s my job, now.”
He laughed. “Of course, it is, Wife. Where did you get the money for the wine to give to the neighbors tonight?”
“The same place I always get money. My cloth. I spent a much of my time working while I was at Elisheva’s. I finished the Temple commission and was paid well for that when I delivered it. I also made and sold a linen tablecloth and several napkins, in addition to some work I did for Elisheva,” she told him as she retrieved her
purse from the shelf. “Whatever money we both make is our money, so here is what I have. I would very much like to keep some of this back to spend on meat for our first few Shabbat dinners in this house. But the rest can certainly be spent on anything we need, from wood for your work to anything else we require.”
She put the purse on the table.
Yosef opened the drawstrings and dumped the coins on the table. “That’s quite a bit of money, Miriam. More than I would see in a year after expenses. You keep it for running the household.”
“The Temple commission was exceptionally profitable. Fine linens are also profitable. I’ll never be exactly rich, but as long as I can work, I’ll never starve.”
“You are a fine woman, Miriam.”
She just looked at him, wondering where he was going with this. But she didn’t have long to wonder.
He continued, “You should know, your angelic friend, Gavriel, came to me in a dream.”
“I wouldn’t call him a friend of mine. I don’t know that angels have friends among the children of men. Duties, charges, yes. But friends? I don’t know about that.”
“He came to you in your waking hours. He came to me in a dream. Why do you suppose that was?”
“That may have been the best way to reach you, Yosef, my dear,” she said, going to pour his wine. “Do you suppose you would have believed him otherwise? Or would you have been like Yaacov before he became Yisra’el, wrestling through the night with Avinu Malkeinu, until He’d have to dislocate your hip to get your attention?”
He laughed and said, “Perhaps. I can be stubborn.”
“You’re a good man, Yosef. But you certainly can be stubborn. It is a wise man who knows himself so well.” She handed him his wine. “Are you hungry, Husband?”
“We’ll eat in a while. The food was taken outside. Sit down and talk to me, my dearest.”
Miriam took a seat across the table from Yosef. “So, tell me about this dream of yours.”
“Gavriel came to me in the dream. He told me that the child you are to have is holy, the son of El Elyon, and I should have no fear of taking you into my home, as you have not sinned in this.”
“You have now done as the angel said.”
“Yes, I have,” he agreed. “Miriam, the whole situation is completely new, even frightening, to me. I have no idea what this child is going to actually do in his life. I stand convinced, now, I am to provide for, protect, and defend both of you. This I will do, gladly, even though I do not understand why the Holy One would act in this way, why we, of all people, should have been chosen for this task.”
She reached across the table to take his hand in hers. “Yes, it’s frightening for me as well. All we can do is live our lives and do the best we can for this child and for one another.”
“It won’t be long until the women notice you are with child. We’ll just have to brazen out the disgrace. The least said about this, the better. You certainly aren’t the first kallah to go to her nissuin after finding herself with child. Nor will you be the last.”
She sighed. “I know this. But the others deserved their disgrace. We do not. This child does not. Neither of us have done anything amiss.”
“It is only a disgrace, not a sin. There are many ways people can and do to disgrace themselves in life. We can outlive disgrace. But even if people come to believe what they’re bound to believe about this child and us, they cannot say there was any sin in it. We have been legally married since our kiddushin. There have been sufficient months since I brought you to Natsarat and your behavior has been observed by all of the neighbors well enough that no one has a single word of reproach for you. For me, perhaps. But not for you.”
Miriam sighed. “Rumors arise most often from unjust judgments.” She sighed again. “However, I will not worry about such things. We have more important things to be concerned about.”
“What things?”
“Zechariah taught me from the prophets about this child and about young Yoni, his son. Let me tell you about these things, Husband.”
An hour later, Miriam finished telling Yosef the things Zechariah had shown her from the prophets Yisayahu and Hosea, and from the mezmorim, the psalms, in regards to this child, to his child, and to the whole issue of the coming Moshiach.
Yosef looked at her for a long time and finally sighed, shaking his head. “I’m even more uneasy about all of this, now. I am not a scholar, Miriam, but this doesn’t agree with the way I’ve always heard these prophesies explained.”
“Do you think Father Avraham expected the promise he’d received of God, that his seed would be as countless as the stars and that he would be a great nation, would be fulfilled as it has been today with the children of the Covenant living under Roma’s thumb, with Caesar’s handpicked puppet king ruling over us, in our own land?”
Yosef nodded. “I see your point. I have no idea how to raise this child. I won’t hide that from you, or pretend I am of an easy mind about any of this. My eyes are now opened to what the prophets are telling us about the child’s future. But I can’t pretend to be anything except taken aback that we are to raise a child to manhood who will be so vilely treated.”
She nodded. “I would never ask you to put a pretty face on anything, Yosef. I want you always to be honest with me, above all things. The prophet Hosea says the Moshiach will rise again after death.”
“Everyone except the party of the tzedukim believe that there will be a resurrection,” Yosef dismissed.
“I will trust this prophecy of Hosea is something special for this child. Still, I don’t like thinking about what will come in his life. It breaks my heart.”
“I intend to be as honest with you as I know how to be. I have to tell you again, I don’t know how to be the father to this child.”
“And I don’t know how to be his mother. But this isn’t up to me. This is part of Avinu Malkeinu’s plan. He chose us for this work. I only can pray we are up to the task He’s set before us and that He will guide us in the right things to do.”
He smiled at her. “I can’t think of any other woman who would be better for the job.”
She forced a smile, wishing she were that confident. “I think all we can do is raise him to be observant of halakhah, to teach him to love Avinu Malkeinu with all his heart, mind, soul, and strength, and to love his neighbor as he loves himself. Then we teach him Torah and the Prophets. Just as we’d teach any other child...well, maybe more from the Prophets than we’d teach any other child, as more of it applies directly to his life. That’s all we can do.”
“You are so wise,” he said, clear affection in his voice.
She shrugged. “I’m more resigned than wise, Yosef. All we can do is live in the moment we’ve been given. The future will be here soon enough. And the past cannot be changed. The idea of the Mosiach as being the Suffering Servant of the Prophet Yisayahu fills me with pain for this what this child will have to endure. I love him so much. This is a vastly different mission than what Yisra’el is expecting for the Mosiach to accomplish. I can hardly get my mind around it. And yet, the prophecies are so clear to me, now that Zachariah has opened my eyes to them.”
“All we can do is see the Holy One’s will unfold, my dear. There will be many years between now and his adulthood, although the years go by so quickly. It seems like yesterday when I stood under the chuppah with my Shlomit. Less time than that since my children were born. The day we buried her is etched in my mind, as though it were only an hour ago, although thinking of it no longer brings me the pain it once did.”
Miriam was silent for a long moment. Yosef seldom spoke to her of his first wife, the woman for whom he’d built this house, the mother of his grown children. She knew he’d loved her. The neighbors had spoken to her of how he had grieved after his Shlomit’s passing and how happy they’d been that he had decided to take a new wife.
She forced a smile and changed the subject. “True enough, Husband. As for living each day as it comes, your dinner is
going to be cold tonight, I’m afraid. I’m sorry it’s not better.”
“It’s all set up outside.”
“I wish it were a better supper for you, Yosef.”
“I’ve had many a day where I did not have even that much to eat. This is fine. I certainly didn’t give you any time to prepare a meal.”
“They’ll be expecting us out there soon, for supper, music, and merriment,” she said. “’Better a dinner of herbs with peace than a fatted calf with strife.’”
“I know that proverb. There’s another like it. ‘Better a dry morsel with peace than feasting with strife.’”
Miriam nodded. “We will have a peaceful household, Yosef, won’t we?”
“We’ll be fine, Miriam. The men should be back from prayers now. We’ll be expected to make this appearance. You should veil, again, now, my dearest, before we go outside.”
The sound of music came faintly into the house.
“It sounds like they’ve begun without us,” she said.
“No. They won’t have. We’re the center of attention tonight.”
She felt her cheeks grow warm with embarrassment. “The expectation is that we would have spent this time consummating our marriage, Yosef,” she offered in a low voice.
He shook his head. “That isn’t to happen.” He squeezed her hand. “Miriam, my dear, we will live under this roof as though we were brother and sister, with all of our attention given to raising this child to be the man he must be. But no one else has to know the true state of our marriage. They would not understand. Together, we will do this thing the Holy One has for us to accomplish.”
“Together...It has a lovely sound. Now, the neighbors are probably wanting their dinner. Shall we go and allow them to eat?”
He smiled at her. “I’d like my dinner, too, if the truth was to be known.”
The common courtyard was lit with several torches. Miriam made a mental note to make sure that she’d paid enough for the oil. Miriam’s table was set up, with candles and linen, and Yosef’s food with the addition of a covered dish that was hot to the touch, a second dish containing two sliced boiled eggs, and another dish of sliced onions, greens, and radishes. Someone, maybe several someones, had obviously shared their meal. Miriam lifted the lid of the covered dish to see that it contained a lentil and vegetable stew. She made a note to find out who had done this in order to properly thank her.
