Mary is on her way to visit her aunt, in the next part of our story, thanks to the book, TWO FROM GALILEE, authored by Marjorie Holmes and simplified here. Aunt Elizabeth is also expecting a child. Joseph had waited for Mary on the street leading to Jerusalem near their homes, to wish her a good journey and show her his love.
But before any words were said, Joachim looked left and said, "They're coming! They're coming!" Esau, Mary's crippled brother, saw among the asses a few horses, and asked that someone might lift him up for a ride. "Please!" He said," I want to know how it feels!" But Joachim turned to Mary in distress. "Don't go, Mary!" he said. "Please stay here with me!"
"I can't , Father," she cried out. "I must go. You and mother have already suffered over this." Her heart was beating fast and she looked toward the men and horses arriving. Frightened, she wanted very much to just go home. But, instead, she forced herself forward, saying, "I must...go!"
Her fate was settled and she kissed Esau, who had begun to cry. Her father would have lifted her to the donkey, but Joseph had reached her first. Filled with pain, he said to her, "Don't stay long, Mary. We've so much to talk about, so much I must know." The animals and people were restless to leave, and Joseph found her eyes and could only say, "Oh, Mary...Mary!" And she was gone, leaving behind all that she loved in Galilee.
On and on they went upon the endless winding road. Across plains, then east across the Jordan, and up into the mountains where Mary worried about falling off the donkey if sleep over-took her. At night she shivered from the cold ground as she lay in her wool cloak, pulling it closer to her body.
One night they slept in a cave. The men, sitting around a warm fire at the mouth of the cave, thought it could be the same cave David, later the King, took refuge in when hiding from King Saul. but Mary, weak with home-sickness and longing, could only think of Joseph. "Oh, Joseph, my Joseph--you must believe in me!"
Toward evening of the fourth day, tired, but excited, they neared their destination. But, Mary, half sick with the journey, feared she might not find her way to Ain-Karem and the home of her aunt. But the couple who had been like parents to her on the journey, Hagar and her husband, would make sure she found the home of her aunt, Elizabeth.
As Mary journeyed, Elizabeth felt frustrated. Her couch seemed awfully small, as her precious bulge crowded her as she tried to sleep. Growing daily, her body thankfully accepted this belated gift from God. Yet, she had not felt the child move, and she was nearing six months.
Six months since her husband came home, struck dumb, white and shaken by some experience at the Temple. And that night, lying with him to comfort him, he had come within her with power and such strength! Then, she knew....knew that his seed had quickened her and she wept with joy. So many years had gone by without this miracle. Yet, now....she had been overcome with thanksgiving and dared not speak.
Elizabeth felt a sense of fear. What if she was too old? Her black hair showed white wings at her temples. She had a noble, but not stern, face; one might even call it a "sweet face." Yet, her anticipation mounted in her as she felt convicted that something important was about to happen. She settled on her couch once more and half-asleep, she dreamed. Suddenly, she became wide awake by a loud pounding at the thick oak door leading outside. Alarmed, she thought first of robbers, then a voice--sweet and young--startled her with its familiarity, "Don't be afraid, Aunt Elizabeth! It's me, Mary! Your sister's daughter, Mary! It's only me!"
"Mary!" Elizabeth threw on her robe, grabbed the night lamp, and hurried to the door. "Forgive me for disturbing you so late," Mary explained, "We took the wrong fork in the road." And she turned and thanked the man who had escorted her to the door. Arrangements were made to stable the donkey Mary had ridden and as the man said his farewells, he blurted out, "Forgive me, but I...I feel that some great honor has come to me this night." And he left down the path.
The two women embraced and then began to just look at each other. Elizabeth lifted her lamp to Mary's face, both sun-burned and dusty from the road. Mary said, "Truly, I'm not little Mary anymore, dear aunt; I'm a woman grown." "It becomes you," her aunt said softly. "And just as lovely as a woman." "I had to come," Mary explained. "I see that God has finally favored you with seed that is also fated to be holy seed. And I now know that my aunt--and only my aunt--will understand!"
"Mary!" Elizabeth's face filled with joy! Then, "Oh...Mary!" Her hands flew to the bulge in her body, but this time she felt thrilled with the sweet throbbing! "It moves! It moves! My little one moves!" She turned to Zachariah, her husband, the slight man who had appeared just awakening in the doorway. "Oh, husband! Our baby moves!"
Tears ran down Elizabeth's cheeks, mingling with the kisses she brought to Mary's face, and her hair, and her hands. And Elizabeth cried out, "Mary, blessed are you among women! And blessed is the fruit of your womb!" She knelt and kissed Mary's dirty feet.
"Then you know?" Mary said, "You already know how it is with me, dear aunt?"
"I know. I knew it the instant my own child leapt! How is it that I have deserved to be visited by the mother of my Lord?"
His mother.....The mother of their Lord. Dazed and shaken, Mary stood, silently being confirmed. "It was true then; it was true!" (End of today's story.)
It will soon be time for Christmas cards and letters. On those sent from this house, I am going to ask folks who are close to our family how they might have handled this interesting and troublesome situation at their own homes. What would your Christmas letter have looked like if you had a situation like Mary's mother and dad?
Food for thought. See you tomorrow, God willing.
Jo INMN
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