A Passionate Hope--Hannah's Story

by Jill Eileen Smith

  Elkanah held her gaze. “I wish I had your faith.”

  “You do. You’re just grieving.”

  “I wish we didn’t have to leave him.”

  “Me too.”

  They stared at each other in silence a moment. “May the Lord make good His word,” Elkanah said.

  Hannah smiled. “He will, beloved. If He could give us Samuel, He can be trusted to do the rest of what we entrust to Him.”

  Elkanah nodded, marveling at this woman. He didn’t deserve such a woman of faith. Not when his own faith seemed so fragile at this moment. But as they entered the house with the entire family gathered, he knew he would have to announce their intentions. Pray God he would have the words to answer their questions.

  Hannah stood over an exhausted, sleeping Samuel, her heart pounding. She knew she should lie down beside him and rest, but her mind would not settle from all of the questions thrown at her and Elkanah after the announcement to their families. Should they have told them all sooner?

  “How could anyone do such a thing?” Peninnah had been the first to throw out a barb. Though she might have meant it as sarcastic, the gleam in her eyes had given away her delight in Hannah’s loss.

  “Hannah, how can you bear to do this to us?” Galia’s comment had been no better, and Jeroham had supported his wife, for he had come to dote on the boy. “We love Samuel. You know how long you waited and prayed.”

  “Yes, I do,” she said, looking to Elkanah for support, but even his composure seemed to be hanging by a thread. “You all know that I was barren for years.” The word had lost its sting, even though every female head nodded in solemn agreement. “And that God granted my petition after I prayed and vowed to give my son back to Him. So please, do not fret or think this a bad thing. God has brought about this moment for a purpose. I believe He wanted me to be willing to give Him everything because He has a greater purpose for Samuel.”

  The room had grown quiet after that, until everyone started to ask questions about how they could help or how she could bear it and how Samuel was taking the idea of not living with his parents. Even now she could not stop their words from creating a hint of doubt in her heart.

  Oh Adonai, I know I am doing the right thing, for to break my vow to You is not possible. But please give me strength to carry it out, because living without Samuel’s voice in this house or holding him close each day is going to be impossible without Your help.

  Soft footfalls sounded behind her, and she turned to see Elkanah enter the room. He came to her and wrapped her in his arms, the two of them looking down at their innocent son.

  “It will be all right,” he whispered into her ear.

  She leaned against him, felt his heart beating steadily as he himself was always steady, always there for her.

  “I know. It will be hard, though.” She looked at him. “But God has given me peace.”

  Elkanah nodded. “Strangely enough, even through the chaos tonight, I felt His peace as well. I don’t know what God has in store for our son, but I feel certain that he is chosen to bring change to Israel. Good change.”

  She smiled and rose up on her toes to kiss his bearded cheek. “I am sure of it too.”

  He kissed her, a kiss full of promise, of a future to come. “We have a week left with him.”

  “Until the next feast.”

  “Yes. Which reminds me that we need to gather what we will sacrifice on his behalf.”

  “I have already chosen a three-year-old bull.”

  “And I have an ephah of flour and a skin of wine waiting.”

  “Then we will enjoy this last week until that day.”

  He kissed her again as though he needed her, suddenly more than she had realized. Until that last day she would enjoy her son. But right now she pulled Elkanah aside and showed him she needed him too.

  36

  One Week Later

  The walk to Shiloh felt wrapped in mystery and solemnity. Except for the noisy children running ahead and back again to their watching mothers, Elkanah’s family had grown quiet, even the women.

  Hannah walked with Elkanah and Samuel separate from the rest of the clan. The three-year-old bull was tied to the back of the cart that held the flour and wine and food for the feast and the other supplies they would need while they were there.

  Even Samuel seemed to realize the gravity of the moment, for he stayed between his parents and did not run after his cousins. As Shiloh grew closer, his eyes widened and he looked at Hannah.

  “Shiloh is big.” How astute he seemed for one so young.

  “Yes, my son, it has to be. The Levites have housing near the tabernacle so they can care for the house of the Lord, and the priests live here along with many servants. Most of the city is made up of those who work to keep the tabernacle and the sacrifices going the way God intended.”

  “But I will stay with Eli.”

  “Yes,” Hannah said, her heart constricting with the sudden thought that Eli might be too old, might refuse her. He would not do that, would he?

  They walked down the familiar slope of the hill to the area where the Kohathites set up camp. Elkanah stepped away from her for a moment to give Peninnah instructions and direct her sons to set up Hannah’s tent, then made sure Tahath would oversee the boys, who he’d admitted to Hannah could not always be trusted.

  “We will present him to the Lord tonight,” Hannah said once Elkanah returned. “After the sacrifice.”

  Elkanah’s expression changed from worry to acceptance in one brief moment. “I’ll be back with the bull.” He walked off again to untie the bull from the cart.

  Hannah took Samuel’s hand. “It is time for you to meet Eli.” She looked into his innocent eyes and noted how long his hair had already grown past his shoulders. But a Nazarite did not cut his hair, so by the time he was old he would have it growing to his knees unless the Lord kept it from growing as fast as it was now.

  “It’s all right, Ima.” The boy’s words startled her. “I know you would not leave me here if Eli was not good.”

  Hannah sighed, and Elkanah came into sight with the bull ambling behind him. “Only God is good, my son. Eli will treat you well, but you must remember that only God is good.”

  Samuel nodded, though Hannah wondered how much a five-year-old could possibly understand. She herself had trouble understanding how God could be good sometimes, especially when so much evil happened around her.

  But she tucked the thought away as the three of them made their way to the altar. Elkanah placed Samuel’s small hands on the head of the bull before Hophni slit the animal’s throat and Phinehas caught the blood. She watched as they put the blood on the altar and burned the bull as the law commanded, surprising her. Perhaps God was keeping them from ruining this sacrifice as they had done to the one she offered so many years ago. Was this His way of encouraging her vow?

  “Is it time now, Ima?” Samuel’s eagerness surprised her. She exchanged a look with Elkanah and felt that sense of peace creep over her as they led the boy to where Eli sat by the doorpost of the tabernacle.

  “Pardon me, my lord,” Hannah said as they approached.

  Eli roused from a lazy stupor. He rubbed his white beard and studied them for a long moment. “Yes? What is it?”

  Hannah cleared her throat. No doubt he didn’t remember her, but she would trust God that he at least would not reject her now. “My lord, forgive me for interrupting you, but we are here to present to you our child, Samuel.” She searched his face, which had alighted on her son, looking him up and down.

  “As surely as you live,” she continued, “I am the woman who stood here beside you praying to the Lord. I prayed for this child, and the Lord has granted me what I asked of Him. So now I give him to the Lord. For his whole life he will be given over to the Lord.”

  Eli looked from Samuel to Hannah. “You are leaving him here to serve the Lord?”

  “Under your guidance, yes.”

  “You are the woman I thought
was drinking too much wine.” He rubbed the corners of his beard. “I remember you.”

  “Yes, my lord. I am that same woman.”

  “And you prayed for this child.”

  “Yes, my lord. And God has graciously granted my request. But I made a vow that day to give my son back to the Lord, so we are here to present him to you, to serve you here at the tabernacle.” She watched him, trying to assess his thoughts.

  “He is very young.”

  “He is weaned and he is a quick learner.”

  Eli looked at Elkanah. “And you approved this vow?”

  Elkanah nodded. “Yes, my lord. We believe God has destined Samuel to serve Him and this is the best place for our son to learn how to do that.”

  Eli straightened. “Come here, child.”

  Samuel stepped close to Eli.

  “How old are you?” Eli blinked as if he was trying to make sense of their offering.

  “Five years.” Samuel held Eli’s gaze. “I am here to help you and to let you teach me. That’s what Ima says. So where do I stay?”

  Eli chuckled and a twinkle filled his eyes. “An eager one you have here.”

  “He is a gift from the Lord,” Hannah said, smiling through a mist of tears.

  Eli nodded, seeming to realize their difficulty in leaving him. He slowly stood. “Well then, we must not keep our gift from God waiting. This boy wants to see the tabernacle, so we must show him.” He looked from Elkanah to Hannah. “Would you like to come?”

  Eli showed them the grounds where Samuel would learn, places Hannah and Elkanah knew well but now seemed new through their son’s eyes. Of course, the actual tabernacle was off-limits to them. At the end of the visit, they held Samuel tight one last time, then made their way back to the camp.

  Myriad emotions moved through Hannah as thoughts of missing her son mingled with the joy of knowing that Samuel was happy and she had fulfilled the vow she had made to God. To obey Him, even when it was so hard, filled her whole body with a sense of such joy, she almost could not contain it. Was this what it meant to trust? To give everything to the Creator and trust Him with the outcome? Was this what God had intended for her to learn all along?

  Oh Adonai, I didn’t think I could bear it. But now she realized she could. Despite the corruption, there were good people here to help Eli. Raziela and Irit had loved Samuel the moment they met him, and Hannah’s heart was full, knowing how far her friendship with both women had come, especially Raziela. How blessed she was to have earned her trust, and now to trust her with keeping an eye on Samuel in return. God had not abandoned her son to grow up under an old priest who may or may not do all He required. He had provided support, just as He had given her Elkanah and Dana and Nava all these years to support her in her times of trial. How could she not thank Him?

  As they approached the camp and joined the family for the feast, Hannah stood. “Before we partake,” she said, looking to Elkanah for approval and quickly receiving it, “I want to offer Adonai a prayer.”

  Galia gave her a curious look, but Dana nodded, smiling.

  Hannah did not even look Peninnah’s way. She stepped away from the group and lifted her hands heavenward. “My heart rejoices in the Lord,” she said. “In the Lord my horn is lifted high. My mouth boasts over my enemies, for I delight in Your deliverance.” She closed her eyes, lest Peninnah think the words were aimed at her. But were they?

  She shook the thought aside, focusing her heart on Adonai. “There is no one holy like the Lord. There is no one besides You. There is no Rock like our God.” She smiled at the heavens and turned in a circle, dancing for the Lord.

  “Do not keep talking so proudly or let your mouth speak such arrogance, for the Lord is a God who knows, and by Him deeds are weighed. The bows of the warriors are broken, but those who stumbled are armed with strength. Those who were full hire themselves out for food, but those who were hungry are hungry no more.” She opened her eyes and glanced at the group, her heart full of love for them, and for a brief moment she even gave Peninnah a smile.

  “She who was barren has borne seven children,” she continued. Of course, she had only borne one. Still, it felt as though God could give her seven. “But she who has had many sons pines away. The Lord brings death and makes alive. He brings down to the grave and raises up. The Lord sends poverty and wealth. He humbles and He exalts. He raises the poor from the dust and lifts the needy from the ash heap. He seats them with princes and has them inherit a throne of honor. For the foundations of the earth are the Lord’s—on them He has set the world.”

  She paused a moment and knelt at Elkanah’s side, looking into his eyes. “He will guard the feet of His faithful servants, but the wicked will be silenced in the place of darkness. It is not by strength that one prevails. Those who oppose the Lord will be broken. The Most High will thunder from heaven. The Lord will judge the ends of the earth. He will give strength to His king and exalt the horn of His anointed.”

  She stopped, realizing that the prayer had turned into a song near the end. “I hadn’t expected . . . The words just came to me.”

  Elkanah took her hand. “God gave you the words, beloved. Since we have no king, you could not have made the song without God’s help.”

  “It is a beautiful prayer, Hannah,” Dana said. “Thank you for sharing it with us.”

  Galia wiped tears from her eyes. “After such a difficult day, my daughter, I am amazed that you can pray with joy. You are an inspiration to us.”

  Hannah’s eyes filmed. Never had Galia spoken so kindly. “Thank you, Mother.”

  Galia stood and came over to hug Hannah, and every sister-in-law did the same, until at last the children started to squirm and ask when they could eat.

  The only person still sitting in her seat throughout the hugs and tears, unable or unwilling to show comfort and kindness to Hannah, was Peninnah.

  37

  Three Months Later

  Hannah sat at the loom, working the warp and the weft. How big should she make the next robe and tunic? Dana had given her a few of her sons’ worn childhood garments to give her an idea of what size to make the clothing, but Samuel had grown faster than Dana’s children. She did not wish to make the wrong size.

  But next month Elkanah would take her to work at the tabernacle. She could take Samuel’s measure then and add some extra length for growth. She would bring the robe to the Feast of Passover and First Fruits nine months hence.

  She glanced up at the empty courtyard. How quiet it was. How much she missed her son! And Nava’s company had always been a balm during her most trying times.

  It would have helped if upon their return from Shiloh she had conceived again, but three months later she still showed no signs of pregnancy. A sigh escaped. Is this it then, Lord? Only one?

  She did not want to appear ungrateful, for Samuel was certainly worth her vow, but oh how her arms ached to hold another child, to raise a houseful of children. Even Dana’s children did not need her now, as they had grown into young men and women, and her daughters were nearly ready for marriage.

  Though Peninnah’s older sons had grown, she still had her youngest son and daughters and, from the rumors Hannah had heard, was expecting another child. In a strange sense Hannah was happy for her, especially since the loss of Yafa. Peninnah needed someone to love.

  Don’t you as well?

  She rolled that thought around in her mind, wishing it were not true. She did have Elkanah’s love, and Samuel loved her from afar. What more did she really need?

  But it was the wanting that hurt more than the need. The longings unfulfilled. The vow that had cost her closeness with the little boy who had changed her. If only she could go back and relive those first few years.

  She looked at the weaving again, blinking away the sting of tears. A few moments later she heard her name called from the road. Ima?

  She stopped the shuttle and stood, meeting her mother at the gate to her courtyard. “Ima! What brings you to see me?”


  “Does a mother need a reason to visit her only daughter?” Adva set a basket she’d been carrying on the ground and pulled Hannah into her arms. The warm embrace was nearly Hannah’s undoing. Had she truly needed her mother that much? Did Samuel need her the way she needed him?

  “I thought that after three months without him you might be feeling the loss more acutely.” Her mother picked up the basket with one hand and guided Hannah into the house with the other. “I’ve brought things to make your favorite pomegranate milk.” She moved to the cooking area where Hannah kept a large board and knife for chopping vegetables.

  Hannah sat on a stool, watching. Her mother never allowed her to help in times like this, so she simply waited.

  “I won’t need the knife, as I already spent the morning removing the seeds from the pomegranate. We just need to heat the milk and add the fruit.” She smiled, glancing up at Hannah, who could not stop the sudden tears.

  “Is it so bad, my daughter?” Her mother came to hug her again.

  Hannah shook her head. “No. Yes. At times. I am just overwhelmed with thinking that right when I was praying in self-pity, the Lord sent you to cheer me up. How often He finds ways to bring joy where there had been only pain.” She smiled as she wiped the stray tears from her cheeks.

  Her mother returned to working on the milk while Hannah sat again. “Tell me,” Adva said, “how have you been, truly?”

  Hannah glanced about the house, so often empty, and sighed. “It is quiet, Ima. I miss Samuel’s laughter and the way he would chase one of his cousins or brothers in the yard—when Peninnah allowed them to play together. I miss Nava’s presence, though I would not wish her back from the happy life she finally has for anything in the world. And I wish . . .” She looked away, unable to meet her mother’s gaze.

  “You wish God would give you more children.”

  Hannah nodded. “You know Peninnah is pregnant again.”

  Adva made a disgusted sound. “Elkanah ought to stay away from her bed. The woman breeds like sheep.”