The Sword of Ruth: The Story of Jesus' Little Sister

by V. M. Franck

"What's Maria like?" Ruth asked her brother, James.

  Seated beside him in one of the family's wagons, she glanced back at the string of them on the dusty road. Some contained wares the artisans in her family had produced, including bolts of her own cloth. Safety dictated they travel in a caravan with others from her village. There were ruffians and thieves on the road.

  Guiding the donkeys James looked handsome, manly. His short dark curls sparkled in the sun. His bronzed skin reflected good health. He could be such a dear, yet so hotheaded. A carpenter by trade, he had a warrior's heart. Even so, he had always been sweet to her.

  "She's beautiful in a Grecian kind of way," he said. "She has long black hair like yours, and a face that makes the stars light up. It's amazing our dear brother keeps himself from her. She's adored him, ever since...." He scanned the road and surrounding landscape for danger.

  "Ever since when?" Ruth removed a loaf of bread from her satchel, tore off a piece and offered it to him.

  Between chews, he said, "She was sick with some kind of illness, out her head, I've been told. Her servants had heard about Mother. They sent for her. Mother was tending someone else, so Yeshua went. He gave her a potion that calmed her right down. He treated her as an adult, not a woman-child. After that every time he's over that way she invites him to stay."

  "Is she rich?" The wagon bounced and jostled. She wondered if wagons owned by the rich were more comfortable.

  "Quite."

  "Yeshua said she has good ideas." Ruth took out a piece of goat jerky and shared it with James. The trip was time-consuming. Eating on the road was inevitable.

  "She is smart. She drew up plans herself for the new hearth she wants me to put in. She did a good job."

  After a time they approached the seaport of Magdela. The other wagon's veered off to the marketplace near the wharf. James followed a cobblestone street to the outer edge of town. Instead of mud huts there were villas made of stone. Rising above the city was a large peach-colored structure with a tiled roof surrounded by a high fence. Windows faced the sea.

  He climbed from the wagon, helped his little sister down and headed up marble steps along the fence edging the estate. A guard sat inside a gate of bars.

  When he saw the travelers, the guard smiled and said, "Ah, Master James, my mistress has been expecting you. I'll get help."

  "Thanks, Clephius."

  In moments another man arrived, drove the wagon through the gate and disappeared with it around the house. Clephius led the guests through a flower garden to the house. They stopped before a heavy door.

  "Mistress Maria is painting," Clephius said, beaming. "She does pictures on large pieces of tightly woven cloth. Fine as any I've seen in Rome."

  He led them inside to a foyer lined with pillars and polished marble floors. Once past the entry they came to a room with large open windows overlooking the sea. A woman kneeled near a stretched piece of cloth. Ruth recognized the tight weave. It was her own.

  "Mistress Maria, your guests have arrived," the guard said.

  "Thanks, Clephius."

  Clephius retreated. Maria wiped her hands on a scrap of cloth and joined her guests.

  "Is he gone?" Maria's eyes were soulful.

  "I'm afraid so," James said. "Even Ruth couldn't talk him out of it."

  "I expected it. I was just hoping. It's good to see you again, James. So, you're Ruth," the woman said, taking the girl's hands. "Yeshua told me so much about you."

  "Yeshua spoke highly of you." The woman's sophistication made Ruth feel like a peasant.

  "I'm afraid I need to leave you," James said, "if I'm to tackle the hearth."

  "The other things you ordered are in the supply shed out back. You can't take time to visit?" Maria asked.

  "Not if I'm to give your workers a good idea what needs to be done before we leave."

  "Why don't you spend a night or three, however long it takes. I should have suggested it before."

  "What do you think, Ruthie?" James searched his sister's eyes. She looked intimidated.

  "Yes, sure," Ruth said, wondering what she would do for three days, how she would handle herself around this woman.

  "Good," Maria said. "Can I have Sophia fix you something to eat?"

  "We ate on the way," Ruth said. "Thanks."

  "How about freshening up?"

  "I do feel dusty," Ruth said. Every part of her was gritty and sweaty.

  "I think I'll get to it," James said. He squeezed his little sister's arm. She was trembling. He'd forgotten about her insecurities with strangers. She rarely let it show.

  She gave him a reassuring smile. He had told her many times that he wished his wife, Sarah, possessed such softness. Sarah was cold and hard as a stone fence.

  "Okay, then, go about your business, James. If you would come with me, Ruth." She led the Nazarene along spacious halls covered with frescos of wild animals.

  "Did you do these?" Ruth asked. "They're really good."

  "Yes, thank you. Father encouraged my art. He hired the best teachers. My mother died in childbirth when I was twelve. He thought I needed something to distract me."

  "Did it?"

  "To some extent. All my teachers were women. Some of them were very kind, especially an old woman named Tania. See that leopard over there? She painted that one. With her help I did the cubs."

  "They're cute."

  Ruth followed Maria to a bedchamber. On an adjoining patio there was a small pool.

  "Would you like to bathe?"

  "No, just a cloth and a little water will do."

  "Okay, then. Everything you need is here including a fresh set of clothes. I'll be in the living room painting." She left Ruth alone.

  Ruth wondered how anyone could feel at home in such a place. She had been to the homes of other wealthy people, but never as a friend. She washed up and dressed. When she was finished she found her hostess.

  Maria cleaned her brushes and set them aside in a cloth wrapping.

  "I asked Sophia to bring cakes and wine to the patio."

  She led Ruth to cushioned chairs in an open area overlooking the sea. There were benches, tables and statues carved from marble. Sophia served refreshments.

  When she was gone, Maria said, "Now, if you would, I'd like you to tell me about yourself, your dreams, the things you hope for, what you plan to do with your life."

  "Didn't Yeshua tell you?" There was no need to be nervous, Ruth told herself. Her companion was nice.

  "Yes, but others don't always know what's in our hearts. Do you plan to get married?"

  "Possibly, but only to the right guy. Any one else would be a waste time."

  "Interesting answer. I married when I was fifteen." She had sadness in her eyes. "My husband died of a chest illness three years ago. It made him wheeze so. I got a little crazy after that."

  Ruth said, "It's hard to lose someone."

  "Yes, it is. How about your other dreams? A spouse is a companion for the journey, not the journey itself."

  "You sound like Yeshua."

  "Thank you." Smiling, Maria said, "He said you're a writer. What kind of things do you write?"

  "I hope to keep historical accounts, record my thoughts and write stories. It takes so much time to make paper, I'm careful what I write."

  "I can get you all the paper you need."

  "Really?" Ruth said, thrilled. It set her to planning. It changed things.

  "Yes, I have the resources. It'll be easy for me. Yeshua says what you have to say is important. He wouldn't have told me that if it wasn't true. I'll have Clephius round some up so you can take it back with you. I'll keep you supplied."

  "Wonderful. Thanks, so much." Ruth beamed, thinking Yeshua was right about Maria. "That would be great."

  "A scholar needs to spend time being a scholar, not a laborer. What else do you plan to do?"

  "I want to teach women to value th
emselves. I want to help calm everyone in the days ahead. I want to help Yeshua teach. There are so many things that need doing."

  Looking like an idea had just come to her, Maria left and returned with the painting she was working on. She propped it against the table next to them. The outer fringes of the canvas were white. Inside an oval of aqua blue, a spray of white roses sprouted from a single stock.

  In an emotional rush Ruth said, "You're part of the Order?"

  "Yes."

  "Did a golden man appear to you?" It was hard to believe. She wasn't alone with the revelation.

  "Yes. If it's okay, when you and James go home, I'd like to go with you. I need to talk to your mother. I believe she's the leader. Have you talked to her about it?"

  "No. I wasn't sure what to do," Ruth said. "Yeshua talked a lot about you before he left. I'm sure Mother and Father would love to meet you."

  Maria looked pleased. "It must be nice to be part of a family. I'm all that's left of mine. Well, there is Uncle Joseph in Arimathea, but he's not actually related to me."

  "You don't have children?"

  She shook her head. "Until I met Yeshua, I never knew why God didn't bless me that way."

  "What did he say?"

  The sky was clear. A warm breeze brought a taste of salt. In a nearby tree a bird sang a melancholy melody.

  "He said before we come into a lifetime, we set up what we want to learn. He suggested not having children might have been one of my decisions before I was born."

  "What do you think?" Ruth asked. "He's pretty smart, but sometimes he gets things wrong."

  "Possibly, but I do know that brother of yours has insights I don't hear from anyone else. He has a way of looking at the world and everyone in it that sets right with me."

  "Me too."

  "What can you tell me about him when he was a child," Maria said. Beyond the appearance of dignity was an underpinning of loss.

  "I'm almost ten years younger, so there are some things I don't know." Ruth considered for a moment. "Let's see, what I first remember, I must have been three or four. We were sitting outside. It was raining. He was tending the oven to make sure it didn't run out of wood. I was helping." She laughed. "Funny how little kids think they're helping. Anyway, we were huddled under a lean-to. He picked up a frog and petted its tummy. It didn't pee like they do when they're scared. It made a low, chirping warble. I remember him saying that life was perfect in that moment, that nothing could be better."

  "Did you know what he meant?" Maria's face glowed with each mention of him.

  "Not at the time. But I think he was referring to being at peace with the frog, in touch with its spirit. I can still feel the positive energy coming from it. It seemed to be about mutual respect and equality. That's it. Each being is the equivalent of the others. Nothing is superior or inferior. That's it. That has to be it."

  "Yeshua was right," Maria said.

  "About what?"

  "He said I would like you. He said you have great insights and perceptions, especially for someone so young. He suggested I teach you to paint, that it could come in handy. Would you like to learn?"

  "Yes, yes, I would. I've often thought it would be nice to paint designs on my fabrics."

  "Good. Good, then let us begin."

  Chapter 7