“As you see, there is a visitor. Elisha requested that she sit with us. She is aware of our talks and has had her own problems in her life.”
Some of them chuckle.
“Thank you for having me,” I offer.
“Last time we gathered,” Sarai considers each woman, “we exchanged thoughts about an emptiness inside that some of you have. Does anyone want to say more?”
One woman leans forward. “I do.” Sarai nods. “My husband does not speak unless it is to order what he wishes and tell me how I am to do it. The women have wonderful chats about our children, keeping up our tents, the weather, and what we will do if there is time for enjoyment.”
Sarai nods. “At least you have that.”
“But he never talks, Sarai. He is like a ghost, never revealing what he dreams, what he needs. Beside food of course.” The others laugh, and I join them. “I do not know who he is. Who lives in that body. How he sees himself. He makes me an outsider, alone, and not good enough for him to talk to, yet he is there beside me.”
“Any comments?” Sarai folds her hands and waits. They shake their heads and are quiet. Some lower their eyes, wanting to say something, but afraid.
“It is not in your power to change him. We can change only ourselves. That is the work that needs to be done. Did your anger stop you from asking questions or telling him how much he is appreciated for what he does?”
“I think I forgot, I was so furious.”
“Try again and listen to his answers. Make yourselves a couple that shares, not sits there and stares.”
The woman glares at Sarai. “What good is that?”
“It may give us answers. Also a bit of flattery can go a long way. Give it time and it will happen.” The woman nods.
The next one told of beatings for the slightest violation of her husband’s rules. Another of a coming marriage with a man she never met. Yet another in love with a man her father will not allow her to marry. Then came stories of broken bones, bruises, being beaten until they miscarried, and one whose husband took the baby and gave it to a traveling merchant and his wife.
Next were tales of being ignored and not useful no matter how much work they did, and virtuous only for taking care of their homes and making children.
The stories of emptiness, abandonment, and desolation birth a sisterhood. As we listen to each one’s anguish, we laugh and cry. Sarai gives the women encouragement and reflects back to them their ability to listen and love.
When they are complete, Sarai goes to the tent opening. “It stopped raining. We can go outside for our ending.” The women draw pictures in the damp sand representing their regrets. They make a ceremony of walking in a circle to see what each one drew. With arms raised and hands open, they consent for the wind to blow the pictures away. They return to the tent with their faces radiant. The gift is not just from the experience, but also from Sarai’s words and kindness, from her ability to make them feel accepted by the way she beholds them.
They pray and bless each other for their lives as women. The group ends with a joyous dance. “Goodbye, and thank you for allowing me to join you,” I say as they leave. Sarai says her farewells and whispers something to each woman.
They are gone, and we decide to recline in the cool breeze. Their tales were not easy to hear.
“As a child, my dreams were filled with finding a man who would look at me with love in his eyes. His father and mine would bargain for a bride gift. We would have brilliant children and be happy. That is what lived in my heart,” I muse out loud.
“That is true of most females.”
“What did you whisper in the women’s ears?”
Sarai smiles. “It was something personal to let them know they were heard.”
“The women back home and the ones you speak to never realize their dreams.”
“Alas, not. They carry heavy loads, the rules of their communities, the instructions of their husbands, abandonment, being hurt or ignored. Their hearts close to the beauty inside of them, and they become what is expected. They bury themselves in what they are told is their obligation.”
“I listened to their stories and my heart was stirred. I long to help or at least cry for them.”
“We cannot take their troubles away, but we can try to help them carry their burdens.”
I turn to Sarai. “That is true. Something you said is troubling me. Can we speak of it now? If you are too tired—”
“I can always listen.”
“You told me the story of your wedding and said you could not give Abram even a daughter. Why did you say it that way?”
“A son is important to a man. Children are known through their father’s name. But a male carries on the father’s work, while the female goes to her husband’s house.”
“My thinking caused me to question that. Does it not demean a female to be considered disposable?”
“It does for some. The female must build a relationship of mutual respect for herself and her husband.”
I shake my head. “That is not fair. It places the burden on her. Men do not listen. They are in charge. You are aware of that.”
“You are right. I do not have the answer. It can be done and perhaps it will happen in the future. I am fortunate. Abram is a unique man. Now I need some stillness.”
She goes back into the tent and Hagar appears as if from nowhere. Her face tells me she is up to her tricks. “Who do you think you are? Sarai?”
“So, you eavesdrop also?”
She continues as if I did not speak. “It is obvious you would delight in becoming Sarai and do you desire her husband, too? You are not clever enough and your faith not as divine. Do you think she will allow you to teach her women? You are an uneducated inferior from the country, too afraid to speak up and too foolish to have the right words.”
She disappears as she arrived. She is wrong, but her words hurt.
When the next group is complete, we relax in the sun. “Sarai, I am thinking about the women.”
“The women were able to conquer their fears through female companionship and hope. A settlement comes anytime we can understand ourselves a little more.”
I bite on my lower lip. “I will try to work on that.”
“Trying is not choosing. Decide what you will do.”
“You told me that once before, but I can hear you now. Those women’s lives are hard. It is easy to appreciate why they have trouble with gratitude.”
“But Elisha, the most unfortunate person can have something encouraging. It can be difficult to find, but there is the sunrise, the sunset, the stars or being alive to suffice. What if I propose we be grateful for things which make us angry?”
I sit back. “Why?”
“What if someone cheated you? What could you find to be grateful for?”
“I would be indignant.”
“Could it remind you not to be like that person? Not to cheat, not to do wicked things?”
“I could be grateful for the reminder. Sandalphon said that gratitude is important.”
“We can be offered many different leaves.” We stare at each other and then share a good laugh. She remembered what I told her Sandalphon taught me. Sarai continues, “We must choose which ones to eat. Lessons become a sort of loving relationship like we have with friends, or between a man and a woman.”
“I would not know.”
“I am sorry, Elisha. I did not mean to hurt you. Perhaps in the future. You are still young.”
“I am no longer young, nor a flower to be plucked, but I am content. Sandalphon said females are marred before we are born. His meaning was clarified by those women’s stories. They helped me recognize what being damaged means for a female’s life. Thank you for agreeing to have me listen to the group.”
I wait as she hesitates. Will she question my words? I go into the tent to bring her something to drink.
I come back and Sarai is laughing. “I love using leaves to describe making a choice. You help in a way tha
t allows me to do my work with no difficulty. I appreciate it.”
“My wish is to ease your burden.”
I can no longer hold my tongue and turn to her. “Why does Abram not teach me? Did I do anything to anger him?”
“I do not think so, but you must ask him.”
The visitors never stop coming. Some days Sarai has different women who come alone. I prepare their drinks and cakes and clean up after they are gone. She just ended another group meeting, and I go into the tent and hand her the persimmon tea she loves. “Thank you, Elisha. I did not expect this to be such a difficult meeting.”
“I could not avoid overhearing some of it. This group was able to name what their inside feelings were. Sandalphon said I need to name mine to make my songs better.”
She takes a sip. “He is right. Until we know what we feel, we do not know ourselves.”
“Is that what brought the women the peace and joy on their faces?”
“We are grateful any time we find joy. I must rest.”
Her gentleness with this difficult topic leads me to think that if she knew what happened, she would not judge me. She walks to her sleep space, her steps difficult as if she has taken on the burdens of the group. She said the desire to focus gives her energy. Is this group different or is Hagar, that viper, the problem? I need to decide about my secret and understand what Hagar already knows about me.
Could I have been asleep all this time, unaware of what was going on? Men are educated and do what they want. Women tell of assaults and attacks and being made to obey. They numb their feelings to escape the pain and go on. Some husbands confuse them by making them do something and then punishing them for it. I had Sandalphon and Nathan to lean on. They have no one to help. How will Sarai move them from bitterness to compassion?
I am not like those women. I will never succumb to a man.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The next morning, I wake while it is still dark. The memory of my harp makes me want to cry. It has been so long. My harp was a need.
The cloud sets down near me. “You are right. Your passion for what you are doing and learning makes you feel more than you are used to. It drives you to find, to go, to understand.”
“Sandalphon, I am so glad you are here. You have blue in your cloud. It is beautiful.”
“I want to say that you are doing extremely well. You will not be needing me for a long time and I must move on to others. Remember to speak up, wrap yourself in love, and ask your heart what to do.”
He is gone before I can speak. My passion is music, and I have ignored it. There is a small place, very private, not too far away that I remember seeing. I run to it and hope no one will hear me. While the sky grows hazy and dawn colors begin to show, I sing undisturbed and it brings peace, a smile from the inside, and the finish is a readiness to do my duties with enthusiasm.
Almost back at the tent I see someone walking toward me. It is Sarai. Why is she up so soon? “Sarai, is something wrong?”
“Someone woke me with their singing. Was that you?”
My insides turn cold. I cannot lose her. “Yes, sorry I woke you. I did not know you could hear. I will not do it again.”
“You did not wake me, and I would like to hear more. You have a splendid voice.”
“Excuse me, but what are you saying?”
“You sing and the music moves through you but it also goes out for others to take it in.”
I want to chew my hair. “You are sure I did not wake you?”
“I am sure. Collect yourself and listen.” I drop onto the sand ready for a tirade. “Though we do not think about it, words express both ideas and feelings.”
“Words? Feelings?”
“That is why they are important. They help us to understand and think.” My insides are twisting, swirling. “Music helps to rouse the heart and inspire it. Tunes must be chosen to reflect the feelings of the words. They work together and the hearer can experience a release leading to an understanding and perhaps their own creativity.”
“Is that true?”
“Would I tell you otherwise?”
Heat crawls up my face. “I am sorry to . . .”
“Do not be ashamed.” Sarai laughs. “It is a surprising concept for you. Now, will you do what I ask?”
I am ready to run. “The offerings will be ready as fast as I can make them.” I turn to rush to the cooking area.
“Stop! I meant for you to sing as much as you want, all the time, anywhere.”
I turn to her. Tears are in my eyes. “Yes, I will obey.” I scuttle away. Freedom to sing, to compose. I could not have asked for more.
Two suns pass and Hagar decides to parade herself around the community. With his hands clutching Sarai’s waist, Abram succeeded in inseminating her. To Sarai, this proves beyond any doubt, that she was the problem.
It is soon after the morning meal, and Hagar is yelling as she walks. “I am more of a woman and more blessed than Sarai. I am pregnant while Sarai cannot manage this simple duty.”
Sarai continues to treat her well and induces the women to call on Hagar. Hagar’s air of superiority and the words she spreads causes a cry of indecent remarks toward Sarai. While Hagar spreads her venom, goading the women toward her thinking, Sarai is gracious, at least to the outside world.
Hagar takes to speaking with the noblewomen visiting Sarai. I heard her say, “Do you wish to have as a leader this unworthy woman who cannot conceive? If she were righteous, would she be barren?” Another favorite was, “What do you think of a just woman who could not become pregnant for her many years with Abram, while I became pregnant in one time?” She boasts to any who can hear and does all she can to defame Sarai’s unsullied name.
The dry season is upon us, and I am at the well. Hagar sneaks up behind me. The jug is filled to the top, and she jiggles my elbow from side to side so I am wet from head to toe. She whispers in my ear. “I know. It is Sarai you love. You watch my every move when I am cleaning and folding her clothes.” Her implication is outrageous. “I told you I would be Abram’s and you have no chance.”
I turn to face her. “You are not his wife. You are a mere surrogate. You are also a viper, but you will not bite me.” I cannot hold back and throw enough water to drench her. I refill the jug and smile all the way back to the tent.
Whenever Hagar catches my eye, the message in her stance says, You poor thing, you lose, and I win out. But she does not come near me.
We three are often in the tent together. Sarai might ask, “Hagar, have you done the washing?” Hagar would not answer. “Hagar, have you done as I asked?”
“Yes, Mistress, I became pregnant just as you wished.”
Sarai does not fuss and fume in front of Hagar. But when she leaves our tent Sarai shows her fury. “How did I become reviled in her eyes? Should I get drawn into speech over the words of such a wretched creature?”
“I am sorry, Sarai. Is there anything I can do?”
“There is nothing to be done, Elisha. At least, not yet.”
We are alone in the tent preparing the meal and Sarai scrubs the two basins so hard they could break. Another evening she stirs the pomegranate drink with such vigor it turns over and drenches the floor. Problems, mine or others, big or small, make me feel powerless. How do I offer her comfort?
Abram worries about his wife and is cranky with Hagar for the trouble she is causing. He questions me when we are alone in the tent. “You know Sarai well. What is wrong?”
“I am not positive, but I am somewhat certain she blames herself for not conceiving.”
“It was my conclusion also. Thank you. I will speak with her.”
“Abram, may I ask you something?”
His look is filled with curiosity. “Of course, you may always ask.”
“You said you would continue to teach me and it has not happened. Do you not wish to do so?”
“Oh, Elisha,” he laughs. “How can you think that? I assumed you would realize it is more imp
ortant for you to learn from Sarai. She can teach you in a way I cannot as a male. She tells me you are doing well.”
“Thank you, Abram. Now I understand, and my heart is settled.”
The first meal was over a while ago, and I am alone in the tent. Sarai went to Abram and did not return. I take a long time making the breads so I can wait for her. They are almost ready when she appears and seems more resolved. I am relieved. “Many things Abram revealed have quieted my concerns about Hagar. We will see what the future brings.”
The future is no better. Hagar’s words bite like a snake. No sign of envy or anger is displayed by Sarai. Hagar remains poisonous and arrogant. She does not realize how this couple is different. Sarai and Abram discuss business and personal concerns. They consider themselves equal partners. It does not take much more time before Sarai can tolerate no more. She engages Abram in another discussion. What would my ima think of her taking the lead? Sarai is in Abram’s tent for a long time. She returns smiling and the tension is gone.
Before the sun goes down, Hagar quits her tent.
It is dawn. It rained during the darkness and the grass will be wet, but I go out on a search for the next meal. My apron is filled with lentils and barley when I hear the children across the field making raucous noises as if they are fighting. I drop the corners of my apron and run. The children are in a circle and their heads are bent. There is a different young child in the middle. I watch them draw closer and closer chanting the familiar na, na, na, na, na, na. They are hitting the child with their hands.
“Stop, stop,” I yell. They do not hear. I reach the circle. “Stop,” I scream. “Do not do that. Stop, I said.” I attempt to separate them. Tears are in my eyes. “You promised not to do this. You are terrifying her. Look and see what you do to her?” The child looks like me. “You do not like being afraid, so do not scare anyone else.”
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