"Perhaps I shall see Mother's face to-night," she thought. "And Ezra will be at the village gate waiting for me. He promised. And I am to wave my girdle at the first turn in the road if my eyes are opened. O Angel of the Pool, remember me, Naomi! Remember me here in the dark!"
Naomi's father, who had never taken his eyes from the pool, leaned forward.
"It moves, Naomi," he whispered. "The Angel comes, although we see him not. Be ready, for I must act quickly."
The surface of the pool began to heave and swell, and at the precise moment that the water boiled up, Samuel bent over with Naomi in his arms and dipped her head under the water once, twice, three times!
Dripping, sputtering, and crying, Naomi was placed upon her feet, while her father endeavored to wipe away the water that ran down into her neck and stained her little robe.
"Dost thou see, Naomi?" asked Samuel with a tremble in his voice. "Open thine eyes and look! Dost thou see, my little pomegranate?"
If the Angel of the Pool failed them, where should he turn for help?
Naomi obediently opened her brown eyes and stared, sightless as ever, into her father's face.
The Angel of the Pool had failed them!
IT was the winter season in Palestine.
In the darkness and despair that followed her trip to the Pool of Bethesda, Naomi had not cared what the weather might be. She had listened with indifference to the whistling, roaring wind-storm that had come suddenly one night in October telling the weather-wise that summer was over and the rainy season at hand.
Huddled over the brazier of charcoal that smouldered under a rug in a shallow hole in the middle of the floor, Naomi had not heeded the wild dash of rain against the house nor its melancholy dripping in the deserted garden. Even the excitement of Ezra and Jonas over a slight fall of snow, the first either one had ever seen, had failed to rouse her.
Samuel and his wife were troubled beyond words at this calamity that had come upon their child. Aunt Miriam and Simon were sympathetic, but could offer no advice. Ezra was at his wits' ends, for all his schemes and devices to amuse failed, and the hollow words of encouragement died upon his honest lips.
Samuel, too, had a fresh worry of which Naomi knew nothing, and which, slight though it was in comparison with the little girl's misfortune, did not tend to make the daily life of the family more pleasant.
"Aye, Samuel the weaver's child is blind," said the neighbors, wagging their heads in knowing fashion. "What sin hath he committed, think you, that this calamity befalls him? Truly the way of the transgressor is hard."
"It may be that his wife is the sinner," was whispered about. "Or perhaps both."
And little by little the village peopleturned aside when they saw Samuel coming, and fewer and fewer were the friendly words said to Naomi's mother when she went patiently down to the fountain for her supply of water.
Ezra felt himself more fortunate than the grown people, for at the first unkind word from his former friend, fat Solomon across the road, he had flown at him in a fury, and had shortly enjoyed the satisfaction of seeing his blubbering enemy lick the dust.
"Mole, indeed!" shouted Ezra, doubling up his fists. "Thou wilt call my sister a blind mole, wilt thou? Thou serpent, feeding upon the dust! Thou snake! Rise not up or I will rub thy nose in the dirt again."
So cautious Solomon, having learned his lesson well, was forced to content himself with calling names from behind the wall, which Ezra was prompt to answer with sticks and stones.
No one was happy in the little household, and faces were sober and voices hushed as they went about their tasks, until one day Aunt Miriam called Ezra and whispered in his ear. His eyes opened wide and his face brightened, and for more than a week he neglected his friends, the shepherds, and spent all his spare time at the khan.
Then, one afternoon, when the rain had ceased and the little olive leaves glistened in the cold bright light, Naomi's mother approached the forlorn little figure crouched in a corner and raised her to her feet.
"Here is thy warm cloak, beloved," said she, coaxingly, laying her hand on the soft brown curls that seemed to hang limply now that Naomi never tossed them back with a proud little shake of the head. "Before the door stand thy aunt, thy father, and thy brother. They wait forthee. And, little Naomi, there waits a surprise for thee also. Come and listen by the doorway."
From behind the door Naomi heard an unfamiliar stamping, a running about, and Ezra's excited voice.
"Be careful, Jonas," called Ezra sharply. "Wilt thou be stepped on? Stand from under. Naomi, where art thou? Mother! Oh, she comes! Aunt Miriam, Father, she comes!"
Naomi's mother led out the white-faced little girl and Samuel took her gently by the hand.
"A gift for thee, little Naomi," said he, smiling more happily than in many a long day, "from thy good Aunt Miriam. Put out thy hand and guess."
Naomi stretched out a timid hand and touched a soft furry nose.
"A donkey!" said Naomi. "To take me for a ride!"
"Aye," burst out Ezra, his face shining with unselfish joy; "to take thee for a ride every day and everywhere. Up and down the hills and roundabout. We shall go everywhere together, thou and I."
"Speak more plainly, Ezra," said Aunt Miriam, seeing the puzzled look upon his sister's face. "The donkey is thine, Naomi. Thy Uncle Simon and I have given it to thee. Ezra means that he will take thee riding upon it whenever and wherever thou wilt. No longer shalt thou lurk in the house with white cheeks from sunrise to sunrise. We shall have thee as rosy as a poppy again ere long."
And her tender-hearted aunt first wiped her brimming eyes upon the corner of her veil, and then caught back Jonas by his leather pinafore from under the donkey's heels, where he seemed determined to meet with a speedy death.
"Now the trick!" cried Ezra, who hadbeen hopping from foot to foot during his aunt's long speech. "Have I not been teaching him for more than a week? Say thy lesson well, little donkey! Stand here before him, Naomi!"
Samuel placed Naomi in position.
"Thy donkey's name, Naomi," went on Ezra, "is Michmash, because he comes from the town of that name. Now place thy hands upon the tips of his ears. Do not pinch or he will kick. I know."
Samuel guided the little girl's hands until they rested upon the tips of the long gray ears.
"Now say his name slowly," instructed Ezra, his face aglow.
"Mich," said Naomi, and down came a furry ear, "mash," and down came the other.
Then the little donkey winked both ears violently, and turned a patient eye upon his young teacher as if asking praise.
"He did it! He did it!" cried the teacher. "He did not forget his lesson and he will do it every time. Michmash!" And as the long ears fell again, Ezra threw his arms about Naomi and hugged her close.
"Wilt thou come for a ride with me now?" he whispered. "The sun shines and the wind blows and it will be pleasant out upon the hills."
So seated upon the back of Michmash, Naomi rode off, with such a bright look upon her wan face that her father and mother could not help thinking that better days were in store for them all.
Every pleasant day Ezra, leading Michmash, took Naomi, wrapped in her little scarlet cloak, out riding, and as they moved along in the crisp, bracing air they talked—long, long talks of what they were passing, of Ezra's day at school, or of the thoughts and fancies that filled Naomi's active little mind.
"Ezra," said she one day, as Michmash felt his way securely up the side of one of the stony little Judean hills, "Ezra, dost thou remember what was told thee that the letter-writer said that day by the Pool of Bethesda?"
Her lip trembled as she spoke, but Ezra answered her instantly.
"Yea," said he, "I do, indeed. He spoke of the Messiah."
"And what think you of the Messiah?" asked Naomi timidly. "What think you he will do when he cometh, Ezra? Dost think that he will open the eyes of the blind?"
Ezra, in order to speak more earnestly, halted Michmash, who gladly fell to cropping the coarse grass.
"The Messiah, Naomi," said Ezra slowly, "will do what the prophet Isaiah promised of him. Never fear. He will open the eyes of the blind and unstop theears of the deaf. He will make the lame man leap and the dumb man sing for joy. When he cometh, we shall all see the salvation of the Lord and our sins shall be forgiven us. All Israel shall rejoice. Aye, even stout Solomon also," added Ezra grimly. "The Kingdom of God will come, and the Messiah will rule in righteousness, and he shall put our enemies to flight. No longer then will we pay tribute to the Emperor Cæsar Augustus at Rome. No longer will we tolerate the wicked King Herod in our city of Jerusalem. And the Roman eagle that hangs above our Temple gates will be torn down and trampled under foot."
Ezra spoke warmly. He had been well taught in school and synagogue, and had listened carefully to his father and his friends as they talked in the market-place and elsewhere.
"Oh, I would that the Messiah wouldcome quickly," said Naomi wistfully. "And if he can make me see, he can make lame Enoch straight. I would that Enoch's old grandmother had not died and that he had not gone so far away to live as Jericho. I miss him."
"Think now of this new numbering of all the world," went on Ezra, whose heart burned within him at the wrongs of his nation. "Every man must travel to the town whence his family sprang, whether he live near or far and whether or no he be rich enough to stand a journey. And why? Because the Emperor at Rome has ordered so. I stood in the market-place when the Roman heralds with their trumpets summoned all Bethlehem thither, and told of this new enrollment and of the taxing to follow. I saw the black looks and heard the muttering, but did any man speak out? Nay—afeard of the short sword the Roman soldier carries. Oh,aye, I am afeard of it myself," admitted Ezra indulgently; "but when the Messiah cometh things will not be so."
"Mother says that many have already traveled to Bethlehem to be enrolled," said Naomi, "and that we shall have a houseful when the caravan from Nazareth comes in. I would fain be a help to her just now and not a trouble, but I can do nothing at all, nothing, only keep out of the way." And the tears rolled down poor Naomi's cheeks.
"Do not cry," said Ezra pitifully, and with a patience wonderful in a boy of his years. "We all love thee, Naomi, better than if thou hadst the sharp sight of an eagle. Come, greedy one," he went on, pulling at Michmash's bridle. "Wilt thou eat all night? Come!"
They stood upon a hill that looked toward the north, and as Ezra waited for lazy little Michmash to finish his mouthful,his eye caught a line of tiny black figures perhaps a mile away from Bethlehem village.
"The caravan from Nazareth, I verily believe!" he exclaimed. "Hold fast, Naomi, and I will take thee down to the gate. There I will tell thee all the sights as they come in."
Rattling over the stones and down the steep paths in reckless fashion, the little brother and sister were soon established in a spot where Ezra could see all that was needful, and whisper what he saw in Naomi's ear.
"It is the caravan from Nazareth," he announced, "and they ride on horses, camels, mules, but some walk. There are great numbers of them and more are still to come. Some have fallen behind, they say, and are far back upon the road. They are very weary and they smile but little. Who would want to take the longjourney in winter only to part with money in the end?"
When Ezra and Naomi reached home, they found that, as their mother had said, their house was full to overflowing with company from the Nazareth caravan.
Abner and Joel, merchants of Nazareth, were there with Joel's son Amos and his wife Elisabeth. Samuel's cousin, Daniel, who owned a large farm in fruitful Galilee, had come, bringing with him as a matter of course his friends, David and Phineas, neighboring farmers. All these people had originally sprung from this city of David, and now back they came to it, some in good, some in ill humor, but to a man obeying the command of the Emperor at Rome.
Every inch of floor space in Samuel's little house was occupied that night when the soft quilts were spread out, and the family and their guests lay down to rest. Naomi and Jonas were cuddled in a cornernext their mother. But when Ezra came in late from feeding Michmash, the dim light of the little oil lamp, that burned each night in all but the poorest of Jewish homes, showed him a floor so crowded with soundly sleeping guests that he knew not how to reach his own bed spread at his father's right hand.
"Father!" whispered Ezra.
"My son," answered Samuel in a cautious voice.
"Father, it is so crowded here I would fain spend the night with old Eli in the fields with the sheep. They are encamped below the khan in the Fields of David. May I go? Old Eli said but yesterday that I had neglected him of late."
"Go, my son. Give greetings to old Eli, and God's peace attend thee."
So Ezra slipped out under the dark starry sky to join the shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night.
EZRA picked his way carefully down the dark Bethlehem lanes until he reached the town gate, swung shut and locked hours before at sunset.
"Nathan! Nathan!" he called, until the old gate-keeper peered out from his little booth and muttered a friendly greeting to the lad.
"Nathan, I would go down into the fields with shepherd Eli to-night," explained Ezra politely. "Wilt thou not let me pass through the strait gate? Just this once! I will never ask thee again. Old Eli is thy friend and mine. Do the favor for him, I beg of thee, and I will bless thee all my days."
Nathan could not help laughing at the old-fashioned speech of the boy.
"Whether I do it for thee or for shepherd Eli, the deed is done," he cackled, and threw open the small gate standing beside the large one and known as the "strait" gate. "Ask me not again, I warn thee; ask me not again."
Past the Bethlehem khan Ezra hurried, and down through the piece of fertile land that lay to the east, where the reapers of Boaz had swung their rude sickles and where Ruth had gleaned the golden sheaves. A walk of two miles brought him to the pasture land where the shepherd lad David had watched his father's sheep, battling with lion and bear when the need arose, and where, too, many of his sweetest songs had been written.
The boy scurried along at a good pace, for on these dark and lonely roads to meet with wolf or jackal or, still more terrifying, with robbers, singly or in bands, was not unknown.
At the end of the road Ezra peered about in the starlight until he could distinguish a number of dark forms huddled before one of the caves in the hillside. Within the shallow cave lay the flock asleep, and before it, on his rough bed of brushwood and rushes, sat shepherd Eli, with only a dog or two to keep him company. Beside him lay his shepherd's crook, his club tipped with iron the better to protect his charges, and his sling with which he was wont to throw stones just beyond his sheep to bring them back when they were going astray.
Ezra chose to leap over the rude stone wall that enclosed this sheepfold instead of passing through the narrow gateway. The two great sheep dogs, gaunt and rough, who had spied him on the edge of the pasture land long before he had seen them, leaped fawning upon him with sharp yelps of affection.
"Down! Down!" cried Ezra, half laughing, half impatient. "Eli, my father sends thee greeting. As for me, I would fain spend the night with thee here in the fields. I am crowded out of my father's house by visitors from Nazareth who come to be listed for the census. I will make myself useful, Eli. Perhaps thou canst steal a nap while I keep watch of the sheep. But why art thou alone to-night? Where are the other shepherds? And the dogs?"
"Aye, aye," responded shepherd Eli, slowly wagging his head and drawing his sheepskin cloak about him. "Thou art always welcome, lad. As for sleep, never at cockcrow was I more wakeful than at this moment to-night. For there is something strange in the air, lad. The very dogs feel it. They lie quiet and still; they neither twist nor turn. Whether it be that friend or foe approaches, I know not.Something beyond our ken is a-wing to-night."
"But, Eli," said Ezra, "if it were wolves or jackals, the dogs would be barking. And where are the other shepherds? Wilt thou battle alone if the wild beasts come?"
"Nay, child, nay," said Eli patiently. "I look not for wild beasts to-night, nor do the dogs expect their ancient enemy. Thou sayest truly, like a wise little shepherd, that they behave not thus when wolf or jackal is abroad. The other shepherds read not the signs as do I. Thieves lurk near at hand, say they, and with the dogs they go to rout them out."
"What dost thou expect, Eli?" asked Ezra timidly. He was thrilled and frightened and thrilled in turn at this talk.
The old man sat with his face turned to the brilliant Oriental sky powdered thick with stars.
"'He numbereth the stars, He calleth them all by name,'" said Eli softly. "Expect? Child, I know not what I expect except that He who hath promised us salvation from our enemies and remission of our sins shall keep His holy word. And there are signs that the time draws near. Surely thou hast heard of the priest Zacharias, who was smitten dumb as he served in the Temple, and of the birth of his son John who, it is promised, is to go before the face of the Lord to make ready His ways. Who made the promise? Who but the Angel of the Lord, Gabriel, who stands in the presence of God. Think you his word shall fail? Nay, I tell thee the times are ripe."
"But Eli—" Ezra began in his shrill little voice, when the old shepherd cut him short with a sudden gesture.
"The men return," muttered Eli. "Once already to-night they have heard whatthey term 'an old man's babbling.' Let us listen to their story now."
"How many thieves caught ye, friends?" he called out. "Did ye surprise the enemy in his lair?"
The shepherds filed in through the narrow opening and threw themselves heavily on the ground beside Eli and the lad. The dogs crouched low, with nose between paws, and closed their eyes.
"Thieves? Nay," said one of the shepherds brusquely. "We saw naught amiss, and had but the walk for our pains."
The shepherds wrapped their heavy woolen mantles about them and talked together in low voices. No one seemed disposed to sleep, though the day's work had been hard and all needed a night's rest. Ezra sat silent, thinking of old Eli's words and scarce hearing the conversation that went on about him.
Suddenly the old shepherd graspedEzra's arm. One of the younger men was speaking.
"The night has grown so still," said he. "Note ye that the wind dies down and that a hush falls o'er all?"
His voice ended on a trembling note. He covered his face with his mantle and fell forward among his prostrate companions. Only old Eli, with his arm about shaking little Ezra, held his white head erect—joyous, confident, trustful.
For an angel of the Lord stood by them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid.
And the angel said unto them:
"Be not afraid; for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy which shall be to all the people: for there is born to you this day in the city of David a Saviour, who is Christ the Lord. And this is the sign unto you: Ye shall find a babewrapped in swaddling clothes, and lying in a manger."
And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying:
"Glory to God in the highest,On earth peace, good will toward men."
Ezra, strengthened by Eli's arm which did not waver, ventured to open his eyes.
He saw a brilliant whiteness, clear as crystal, that seemed to light the world from end to end. High above, the sky was filled with clouds of rose and amber and amethyst. All the glories of sunrise and of sunset were mingled there.
Did he catch a flutter of white pinions? Did he glimpse a Leader, majestic, terrible, yet radiant with gracious love?
Even as he stared, unable to move, the song grew fainter, the colors faded and vanished.
The echo of the angels' song rang in his ears. To his dying day it would haunt his memory.
The muffled figures on the ground stirred and stood erect.
Overhead burned the stars in the frosty sky.
The silence was broken by old Eli.
"Let us now go even unto Bethlehem, and see this thing that is come to pass, which the Lord hath made known unto us."
Over the rough, uneven ground hastened the shepherds. Their flocks for once were left uncared for, save by the dogs. They pressed on across the familiar pasture land, up and over the cornfields, and then took the sharp rise that would lead them past the Bethlehem inn.
Clinging to the hillside and facing the cornfields was the stable of the inn, arough cave in the limestone rock. On a rope stretched across the wide entrance swung a lantern, whose dim light twinkled and flickered before the eyes of the shepherds as they came up the hill.
Old Eli quickened his pace, Ezra at his heels.
"And this is the sign unto you: Ye shall find a babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, and lying in a manger."
The boy knew that the inn was crowded to overflowing, as was his own and every house in Bethlehem that night. Was it possible that this familiar manger was the resting-place to-night of a Heavenly Guest? Were strangers lodged in the stable? Was this the only shelter that could be offered the latest arrivals of the Nazareth caravan because there was no room at the inn?
At the stable entrance Ezra hung back. He saw a man come forward outof the shadows and talk with Eli. With a single gesture the old shepherd motioned his companions to join him. Lost for a moment in the gloom, Ezra saw them again speaking, bending forward, then falling upon their knees.
The stars had faded and an early morning wind was blowing chill when at last the shepherds made their way out of the stable. The lamp, still swinging, burned pale in the dawn, but its faint light fell across the white face of a little boy who lurked in the doorway and whose cold hand clutched old Eli as he came exulting forth.
"Praise God! Praise God for His mercy, justice, and truth! Praise—"
Old Eli started at the cold touch, and looked down with eyes that glowed with an inward light.
"Child, what doest thou here? Hinder me not. I go now to spread thegood tidings—to praise and to glorify God."
Ezra opened his dry lips.
"Hast found Him?" he asked. "Is it the Messiah? Is it the Christ?"
"Aye, child, 'tis as the angel said," answered Eli happily; "a babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. Come to bring peace on earth, our Saviour who is Christ the Lord, our long-looked-for Messiah! Glory to God in the highest! Glory!"
Ezra heard no more. He had turned, and with the speed of an arrow from its bow was running up the steep road toward home.
THE rising sun pushed through a bank of purple cloud and touched with long rosy beams the roof of Samuel the weaver's house. On the narrow parapet that bordered the roof walked a number of snowy pigeons, stepping delicately with heads raised and thrown back as if to enjoy the splendor and freshness of the early morning.
In one corner of the roof lay a dark heap, heedless of sunlight, morning breeze, or bird, conscious only of the blackest misery, the deepest hopelessness that an eight-year-old heart can know.
It was Naomi, who lay with hands clenched and face pressed against the cold stone, too heartsick for tears, wishing onlyin her wretchedness to creep away where she might be alone.
Presently she stirred and lifted her head.
Quite a different Naomi was this from the happy, generous child who had sacrificed her flower garden for the sake of an ailing lamb; not at all like the little girl who had set forth so joyfully for a day's pleasure in Jerusalem. Her little robe was wrinkled, her curls were tangled and rough, her face was pinched and pitiful. With her soft little fist she beat upon the roof in time with the rhythm of her words.
"Did they think I could not hear?" she asked, speaking aloud in her fullness of heart. "Did Elisabeth, the wife of Amos, think that I was deaf as well as blind that she should say aloud, 'The child Naomi will never see again. There is no hope.'"
"No hope! No hope! And perhaps I shall live to be as old as lame Enoch's grandmother lived to be. Who will care for me then? Who will give me shelter and food? Amos of Nazareth thought of that, too. I heard him, though he whispered low. 'She will be always a burden. It were better that she should die.' I heard him. He said those words. 'She will be always a burden. It were better that she should die.'"
"Die? Die? I cannot die. I am well and strong. I shall live and live and live. My mother and father will die and leave me, and Ezra and Jonas will weary of me. I shall be a beggar by the roadside. No hope! No hope!"
Naomi sank down again in a little heap and rocked to and fro. Her misfortune seemed too dreadful to be borne. It was incredible that such a fate should overtake her. It might happen to Rachel, orRebekah, or to stout Solomon across the road, but not to Naomi, the daughter of Samuel the weaver.
As she swayed back and forth, torn by her misery, there came to her, like balm upon a wound, the familiar, comforting words that her mother and father had used over and over of late, to soothe the little girl's pain and to encourage hope in the sad hearts of them all.
"I had fainted unless I had believed to see the goodness of JehovahIn the land of the living.Wait for Jehovah:Be strong, and let thy heart take courage;Yea, wait thou for Jehovah."
Naomi rose to her feet. The startled pigeons withdrew a short way and stood watching her curiously with their hard, bright eyes. About her was the soft sunlight, over her head the deep blue sky.
She turned her sightless face towardJerusalem and spoke as if to a friend present.
"Yea, Lord," said the little Jewish girl in simple faith, "I will wait for Thee, and for Thy Messiah who will open the eyes of the blind. Surely when Messiah cometh I shall see. And until then, I will wait and pray for His coming. I will wait."
On the outer stairway that led from the ground to the roof stood Ezra, breathless, his hand pressed against his side. He had run all the way, without stopping, up the steep lanes from the Bethlehem stable, and now, pausing to rest an instant before speaking to Naomi, he could not help overhearing the last words she said.
"So thou wilt wait?" he whispered, his breath coming in gasps. "Thou wilt wait for His coming? Nay, my little sister, thy time of waiting is over. The Messiah is here! The Christ is born! O thatI might shout it from the housetop, that my father and mother and all the world may know that the Lord hath kept His promise and the Messiah hath come!"
Ezra's whole heart and soul were full of a great new hope, and the sight of Naomi's tear-stained face and groping, outstretched hands made him long to tell her the good tidings at once.
But the boy's love for his unhappy little sister made him wise beyond his years.
"If I tell her, and it does not come to pass as she wishes, it will break her heart," he argued. "The Messiah is but a tiny Baby now, weak and helpless. It may be He must grow to manhood before He can heal the blind, the deaf, and the sick. Who knows? Not I. I will not tell her yet."
So Ezra clattered noisily up the remaining steps of the stairway, calling out:
"Naomi! Naomi! Where art thou? Oh, here thou art! Are thy sandals well tied? For I have come to take thee down to the inn stable to show thee something there. And what it is, thou couldst never guess if thou didst guess a hundred years."
Naomi shook her head.
"Show me? What could I see? Nay, I will go nowhere, Ezra," she answered sadly. "If I went, I could not see thy wondrous sight. I would far rather stay at home."
"But this is something to feel," said Ezra coaxingly, putting his arm about Naomi and leading her gently toward the stairway. "Tell me, dost thou remember when young Deborah, the vine-dresser's wife, laid something soft and warm in thine arms?"
"A baby, Ezra?" asked Naomi, stopping short. "A baby at the inn stable?"
"Aye," said Ezra firmly, "a Baby! A Baby born in a stable and lying in a manger because there was no room last night at the inn."
"But I cannot see it, Ezra," said Naomi mournfully. "Why should I go? I cannot see."
"Dost thou remember, too, how Deborah's baby clung to thy finger?" said the crafty Ezra, guiding her tenderly down the steps as he talked. "And did ye not find it pleasant to hold? You rocked it to and fro all day long, Naomi. You said that you wished that Jonas might be put back in swaddling clothes again."
"Aye, it was pleasant," admitted Naomi. "But Deborah brought the baby to me. I will not go to the khan, Ezra. I do not wish to meet any one. My heart is heavy. There will be people to stare at me and to talk in the lanes and at the stable. I will not go."
"Naomi," said Ezra desperately, "dost thou love me?"
"Aye, thou knowest that I love thee," answered Naomi in surprise.
"Then, to please me, come to the inn stable," was Ezra's quick response. "Ask me no questions and delay not, but come. It is early, Naomi. We will meet no one, I hope and trust. Give me thy hand and come."
Naomi instantly slipped a thin little hand into her brother's outstretched palm.
"For love of thee, Ezra," said she sweetly. "For love of thee."
Down the quiet road, deserted in the winter season at this early hour, Ezra led Naomi, carefully guiding her over the stones and ruts in the rough highway. Unobserved, they slipped quietly through the town gate, and when a turn in the road brought the khan into view Ezra threw his arm about his sister and quickened their steps.
He spoke but once.
"One of thy pigeons flies before us, Naomi," said he, "as if to lead us on. It glistens in the sun like silver."
Naomi only nodded and clung the tighter to Ezra's arm.
Past the inn and round to the stable door he led her, and there they halted.
"Naomi," said Ezra, his voice trembling with hope and fear, "thou knowest the stable well. Enter, and walk forward until thy feet touch the straw before the manger. There lies the Babe!"
With a gentle push Ezra started Naomi toward the Mother and Child, whose figures he could dimly see on a heap of straw at the back of the cave. Then in the shadow of the doorway Ezra fell upon his knees.
"O Lord," he prayed, "I know that this is Thy Messiah. I believe that Thou hast sent Him. Thou hast promised of oldthat when Messiah cometh He shall open the eyes of the blind. I would that He might open my sister Naomi's eyes. If Thou wilt answer this prayer, Lord, I will promise Thee anything. I will be Thy faithful servant, I will be an obedient son, I will learn my lessons well at school and never shirk. I will no more throw stones at stout Solomon nor even call him names. I will promise anything Thou mayst ask of me, if Thy Messiah will only open my sister Naomi's eyes. Hear my prayer, O Lord, hear my prayer."
Within the stable Naomi crept cautiously forward. Her footsteps lagged, for she had no heart in this undertaking.
What pleasure could there be for her in visiting a stranger's baby which she could not even see? A short time ago, to hold the soft little body close and to feel the tiny clinging hands might have given her a moment's happiness; but to-dayher heart was so full of misery that there was no room in it for joy to enter. She longed to sink down on the stable floor. Only her love for Ezra kept her moving.
She felt the straw before the manger beneath her feet, and she dropped to her knees and stretched out a timid hand.
Yes, the Mother and Child were before her.
She fingered the hem of the cloak wrapped about the young Mother, but she could not bring herself to touch the little Child.
"I care not! I care not!" thought Naomi hopelessly. "What to me is this Baby? Why should Ezra wish me to visit this Child?"
As if in answer to her unspoken question, with a sudden lovely gesture, the Child leaned forward. His tiny fingers touched Naomi's forehead and His handsrested for an instant upon her darkened eyes.
Naomi opened and closed her eyes rapidly. She rose to her feet and stared about her. Was it a dream, the same kind of a dream with which she had so often lightened the weary hours of darkness, the long watches of the night, when she had called to mind some old familiar scene—her mother at the well, the country road, Ezra hastening home from school? Now the inn stable rose before her. Did she really see the nose of an ox thrusting itself over the stall? Or did she only dream the mound of hay, and on it the young Mother wrapped in a wide blue cloak and in her arms a Child, at the velvet touch of Whose tiny hands the black curtain had dropped from before her eyes?
Naomi rubbed her hands together andlooked down at them. Yes, they were her own hands. There was the familiar little brown spot on the inside of her third finger. Her dress? Yes, that was an old friend, the yellow and red striped robe. She had worn it the day in the garden that she had given her four scarlet poppies in exchange for little Three Legs.
Then it was true! She did see. But how had it happened? Why at the touch of this Baby hand had her sight been restored?
"Ezra!" she called, not daring to stir. "Ezra!"
Ezra's face, white under the tan, showed itself round the stable door.
"Ezra," cried Naomi, "I can see! I can see! I know not how it is, but I was blind and now I see! O Ezra, the Baby touched me and I can see!"
Ezra came swiftly forward. His eyes were full of tears, but his face was radiant.He knelt before the Mother, who was watching the scene with wondering eyes, and the Child, Who slept now in His Mother's arms. He pulled Naomi down beside him.
"Naomi, it is the Christ Child," he whispered. "The Messiah has come! Our Saviour lies before us! O Naomi, the Messiah hath opened the eyes of the blind! The Lord hath heard my prayer!"
And bending low before Him, they worshiped at the Christ Child's feet.
THE household of Samuel the weaver lay sleeping soundly. The dim light of the small oil lamp revealed the figures of Samuel and his wife wrapped in heavy slumber, with Jonas, rolled into a plump little ball, at his mother's feet. Naomi lay close by with arms outstretched. Her dreams were pleasant, for her lips were parted in a smile. Ezra was missing. He was again spending the night in the fields with shepherd Eli. The friendship between the old man and the lad had grown more deep and strong since the night of the Angels' Visit, and they never wearied of discussing the wonderful event and all the marvels that had followed in its train.
These happenings had roused all the village of Bethlehem, and had now touchedeven the city of Jerusalem since the appearance of the Wise Men from the East, who, following His star, had come to worship the King of the Jews.
That very evening Ezra and Naomi, caught on a lonely hillside by the sudden fall of night, had with one accord pointed to the dusky road below, along which rocked noiselessly three tall camels bearing the Magi rapidly in the direction of Arabia.
"They brought gold and frankincense and myrrh," murmured Ezra, "the offerings to a king."
"Aye, to my King, to my Messiah," answered Naomi happily. "Oh, Ezra, I would that I had all the gold and frankincense and myrrh in all the world that I might lay it at His feet. How can the neighbors doubt when they see what He has done for me? Who but the true Messiah could open my eyes and give me sight again?"
Ezra shook his head.
"Many do believe, Naomi," he answered. "And all thy life now thou canst be a living witness to God's mercy and love. How happy He has made us all! Father and Mother, thou and I!"
"And Jonas, too," said Naomi quickly. "He laughs and plays with me now as never before. He knew that something was wrong, though he could not put it into words. We are to begin again to dig our well to-morrow, he and I. I promised him."
It may be that Naomi's dreams that night were of this pleasant task that awaited her; it may be that in her sleep, as in her waking hours, her thoughts were filled with visions of the Christ Child even as her heart was full of love for Him. Her smile deepened, and she did not stir as the night wore on.
The stars were growing pale, thoughmorning was still far off, when the deep silence of the village was broken by the sound of feet running lightly, cautiously, up the lane.
Nearer and nearer came the footsteps until they halted before the door of Samuel's house, and a little figure, panting and breathless, stepped quickly within.
Naomi sat upright and peered sleepily through the gloom.
"Ezra, is it thou?" she asked in surprise. "Is it morning yet? What brings thee here?"
"I have news, Naomi, bad news, I fear," the boy answered. "I must waken my father and mother. Whatever is done must be done quickly. There is no time to lose."
"I hear thee, son," said Samuel's voice unexpectedly. "What is thy tale?"
"And my mother?" questioned Ezra. "It concerns Jonas."
"I sleep not," said Jonas's mother, broad awake in an instant, and drawing the drowsy little ball into her arms in swift alarm. "Tell thy story quickly."
"As ye know," began the boy hurriedly, "I went down to the Fields of David at sunset to spend the night with shepherd Eli. And as I passed through the gate old Nathan hailed me. He told me that one of the shepherds had borrowed his warm cloak and had not yet returned it, and that he was now full of aches and pains and sorrows because of the lack of it. He charged me straitly to tell the shepherd to return it at once or he would have him haled before the magistrate at daybreak, and that he would not cease his watch for it nor sleep that night until the cloak was round his shoulders once again.
"When I reached the Fields, I gave his message, but the shepherd who hadtaken his cloak was not there; he had gone in search of a lost lamb. And when, less than an hour ago, he returned, he asked me to keep him company to the gateway, and help him make his peace with angry Nathan. They know that Nathan is friendly to me," added the boy in explanation.
"And I know that some night, wandering about as thou dost, thou wilt be caught by beast or robber," growled Samuel. "Resume thy story."
"The shepherd and I," continued Ezra hastily, "were passing the inn when I saw a figure by the roadside beckoning me to come to him. It was Joseph of Nazareth, and behind him in the shadow was his wife, Mary, bearing the Christ Child in her arms. He spoke low so that the shepherd should not hear. He told me that an angel of the Lord had appeared to him in a dream, saying, 'Arise and takethe young child and his mother and flee into Egypt, and be thou there until I tell thee: for Herod will seek the young child to destroy him.'
"He spoke no more," Ezra went on, "but I said unto him, 'My little brother, think you there is danger for him?' He nodded in reply, and then I asked, 'Start you at once?' He nodded again and stepped back into the shadow.
"At the gateway old Nathan, glad to see his cloak again, let me through, and I hastened home to tell the tale to thee."
Ezra's mother had already arisen and, opening the great carved chest, had taken from it warm wrappings in which she was bundling the still sleeping Jonas.
"Deborah, the vine-dresser's wife, leaves at sunrise in the caravan for Joppa." As she spoke, she worked busily gathering Jonas's little garments into a bundle. "For friendship's sake she willtake Jonas with her. We have, in her, at least one true friend in Bethlehem. Her mother lies at Joppa sore stricken with a fever, and it may be that our boy will take the sickness and perchance will die. But rather would I see him in his baby grave than in the clutch of cruel King Herod."
"I will go with thee, wife, to carry the child," said Samuel gravely, seeing that her simple preparations were now finished. "Give thy brother a kiss in farewell, children. It may be thou wilt never see him more."
As Naomi stood on tiptoe and pressed a tender kiss upon Jonas's plump cheek, he suddenly opened his dark eyes and, at sight of his sister, broke into a broad smile.
"Farewell, Jonas, farewell," whispered Naomi, her eyes full of tears. "When thou returnest we will dig the well behindthe myrtle bush, thou and I. Farewell!"
Then she laid her hand upon her father's arm.
"Father," said she in a low voice, "the little Messiah also traveleth far to-night. I owe to Him my sight and the happiness of us all. I would fain give unto Him a gift. I would that I might give unto Him my little Michmash, that He may be borne swiftly and surely on the long road that He must go."
Samuel looked for an instant into the brown eyes upturned to his own. He remembered the darkness, the suffering, the vain hope, the despair, then—blessed be Jehovah! the Light that had appeared and that had so wondrously shone into the life of his little maid.
"Yea, child," said he warmly. "No gift that thou couldst give would be too great."
"Ezra," cried Naomi, "canst thou overtake them, think you?"
But Ezra had already left the room, and could be heard in the shed behind the house fitting the bridle over the astonished Michmash's head.
Naomi caught up her little scarlet cloak from out the carven chest, and as Ezra came past the door, leading the little gray donkey, she flung it across her brother's arm.
"The journey down into Egypt is far, and the night winds are cold. It may be my scarlet cloak will keep the little Messiah warm."
She threw her arms about her donkey's neck and laid her cheek against his soft furry nose.
"Fare thee well, little Michmash," she whispered. "Stumble not nor falter on the way. Thou carriest the Light of all the world, the Hope of every heart upon thy back. Farewell, farewell!"
Sunrise—and again Naomi stood aloneupon the housetop. Her night of darkness behind her, she turned her happy gaze upon the morning sky, blue and rose and violet, whose clouds touched to misty purple the hilltops and the peaks that surrounded Bethlehem village. Below her lay the white stone houses, a few steep fields of dark ruddy loam, the sloping gardens with their vines, their fig and olive trees.
From where Naomi stood the road that led to the Holy City was hidden from view by the mountain peak Mar Elias, and as she looked toward it her face lighted and she clasped her hands before her. For on the mountain-top rested two great clouds like angels' wings, and with a heart full of awe and reverence and love little Naomi felt that she stood in the very presence of Jehovah God.
What though the promised Messiahwas fleeing secretly and in dread from His own country? The Lord was mindful of His own, and was even now keeping watch over His people. "Behold, He that keepeth Israel will neither slumber nor sleep."
She had no words. She could only stand and let the tide of love she felt sweep over her again and again, until softly and almost imperceptibly the Heavenly Pinions faded away into the blue.
When Ezra came he found Naomi looking toward the road that wound ribbon-like past the Bethlehem inn down into the land of the Pharaohs, the country of the Sphinx and the Pyramids.
He nodded at the question in her eyes and silently pointed out to her a little group that moved steadily forward upon the dusty road below.
"Dost see them?" asked Ezra softly. "Joseph, staff in hand, leads little Michmashwho bears the Mother and the Child upon his back. He steps forth bravely, the little beast. Ah! now they take the turn that hides them from our sight. Our little Messiah! Gone from us after so short a time!"
"Aye, but to come again," said Naomi confidently. "I know it, Ezra. I was blind and now I see. As a tiny Babe He brought the light to me alone. But when He comes again, He will be the Light of all the world, Ezra, the Light of all the world."
THE END