ALL THE WORLD COMES VISITING
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 people turned 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 for thee. 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 had been 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 the ears 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
Caesar 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 would come 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 long journey 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 corner next
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.