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Authors: Elizabeth Berg
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shouted after him, “Divorce me, then! And I divorce you also! For your great lack of faith, you who study the Torah! For your cowardice, you who call yourself strong!” Then, finally, she fell silent, and next he heard the loud sounds of weeping he had so desired but that now tore at his heart. He focused on the short sounds of his exhalations, the flapping of his sandals against the parched, unyielding earth. He walked more quickly, then ran, toward home.
JOSEPH TOSSED AND TURNED on his pallet, unable to sleep. Just before dawn, he became aware of a presence beside him. He turned toward it. “Mother?…Father?”
There was no sound, but rather a throbbing silence. Then a voice said, “Joseph, son of David. Be not afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is of the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to him, and he will be named Jesus, which means ‘He who saves,’ for he will deliver his people from their sins.”
Joseph lay rigid, afraid to move, afraid to respond.
The voice continued, “All this was done to fulfill a prophecy that says, ‘A virgin will be with child, and shall bring forth a son, and the people will call him Emmanuel, meaning ‘God is with us.’ ”
Joseph swallowed, then slowly rose up on one elbow. He saw nothing. Heard nothing. He lay back down, his eyes wide, and then he bolted from his pallet.
THE SKY WAS TINGED with pink by the time he arrived at Mary’s house. The rooster strutted through the courtyard, ruffling his feathers and preening, preparing to announce the beginning of a new day.
Joseph stole into the house and went quietly over to Mary’s pallet. He stooped down, whispered her name, and touched her lightly on the arm. She gasped and sat up, and Joseph held his finger to his lips. Fortunate now the age of Mary’s parents and their poor hearing! He looked over to the other side of the room and saw Joachim snoring loudly, sleeping on his back with his limbs splayed. Anne faced the wall, curled up on her side, breathing deeply and regularly. Joseph smiled at Mary, but she did not return his smile. She sat still, staring at him.
He waved urgently toward himself for her to follow him. Still she sat. He mouthed, “Come with me!”
Gravely, she shook her head.
He looked quickly again at Mary’s parents, then sat back on his heels and regarded her. A moment passed, then another. Then Joseph put his hands in the prayer position and entreated her with his eyes, and Mary finally stood and followed him out into the courtyard.
There she crossed her arms and said, “What business have you with me?”
“Mary,” he said, “an angel has now come to me.”
“Joseph!”
He put his finger to his lips. “Come with me.” She stood still, breathless, then reached out eagerly for his hand. He closed his eyes in a brief moment of gratitude, then led her out toward the fields.
Once there, he bid her sit down, and he sat next to her. The day was glorious, still night-cool. Butterflies flew up and down and all around, huge white clouds drifted past, and wildflowers nodded in the breeze.
“Tell me of your angel,” Mary said. “Of what did he speak?”
Joseph shrugged. “He? Or she? I know not which. Did you see your angel?”
“I saw mostly bright light, but also I saw the outline.”
“I saw only darkness and heard a voice.”
“But what did it say?”
He looked at her, his beauty, his flower. “First, I must confess…perhaps it did not truly happen.”
She pulled back and frowned. “How do you mean this?”
“I mean that in my great weariness—for I slept not at all last night—I fear I heard things that were not there. Things that would have me not divorce you. For what the angel said is that I should not fear to take you as my wife. He said that the child in you has come to fulfill a prophecy, that you will give birth to one who saves his people from sin, and therefore he will be
JOSEPH TOSSED AND TURNED on his pallet, unable to sleep. Just before dawn, he became aware of a presence beside him. He turned toward it. “Mother?…Father?”
There was no sound, but rather a throbbing silence. Then a voice said, “Joseph, son of David. Be not afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is of the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to him, and he will be named Jesus, which means ‘He who saves,’ for he will deliver his people from their sins.”
Joseph lay rigid, afraid to move, afraid to respond.
The voice continued, “All this was done to fulfill a prophecy that says, ‘A virgin will be with child, and shall bring forth a son, and the people will call him Emmanuel, meaning ‘God is with us.’ ”
Joseph swallowed, then slowly rose up on one elbow. He saw nothing. Heard nothing. He lay back down, his eyes wide, and then he bolted from his pallet.
THE SKY WAS TINGED with pink by the time he arrived at Mary’s house. The rooster strutted through the courtyard, ruffling his feathers and preening, preparing to announce the beginning of a new day.
Joseph stole into the house and went quietly over to Mary’s pallet. He stooped down, whispered her name, and touched her lightly on the arm. She gasped and sat up, and Joseph held his finger to his lips. Fortunate now the age of Mary’s parents and their poor hearing! He looked over to the other side of the room and saw Joachim snoring loudly, sleeping on his back with his limbs splayed. Anne faced the wall, curled up on her side, breathing deeply and regularly. Joseph smiled at Mary, but she did not return his smile. She sat still, staring at him.
He waved urgently toward himself for her to follow him. Still she sat. He mouthed, “Come with me!”
Gravely, she shook her head.
He looked quickly again at Mary’s parents, then sat back on his heels and regarded her. A moment passed, then another. Then Joseph put his hands in the prayer position and entreated her with his eyes, and Mary finally stood and followed him out into the courtyard.
There she crossed her arms and said, “What business have you with me?”
“Mary,” he said, “an angel has now come to me.”
“Joseph!”
He put his finger to his lips. “Come with me.” She stood still, breathless, then reached out eagerly for his hand. He closed his eyes in a brief moment of gratitude, then led her out toward the fields.
Once there, he bid her sit down, and he sat next to her. The day was glorious, still night-cool. Butterflies flew up and down and all around, huge white clouds drifted past, and wildflowers nodded in the breeze.
“Tell me of your angel,” Mary said. “Of what did he speak?”
Joseph shrugged. “He? Or she? I know not which. Did you see your angel?”
“I saw mostly bright light, but also I saw the outline.”
“I saw only darkness and heard a voice.”
“But what did it say?”
He looked at her, his beauty, his flower. “First, I must confess…perhaps it did not truly happen.”
She pulled back and frowned. “How do you mean this?”
“I mean that in my great weariness—for I slept not at all last night—I fear I heard things that were not there. Things that would have me not divorce you. For what the angel said is that I should not fear to take you as my wife. He said that the child in you has come to fulfill a prophecy, that you will give birth to one who saves his people from sin, and therefore he will be
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