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baptized by the likes of this John the Baptist.”
    Lazarus broke in. “Harim said the priests and Levites were sent by the Elders to ask if he was the Christ, or That Prophet, or Elijah, and he said no. When they pressed him to tell them who he was so they could give an answer to those who had sent them, he would only say, ‘I am the voice of one crying in the wilderness; make straight the way of the Lord.’”
    Martha shook her head in amazement. “Those are strange words, Abba, and these are strange times. Have there not been many over the years who have claimed to be the Messiah? They gathered followers like this man, but soon they seemed to disappear and that was the end of them.”
    â€œTrue, daughter, but this fellow does not claim to be the Christ. If he is just demented, he will soon lose the interest of the people and they will desert him.”
    Then a thought occurred to her. “Did you go to be baptized?”
    Lazarus grinned at her. “We didn’t have time for such things. We had merchandise to sell and a long walk home.”
    Relieved, Martha returned to her preparations for the evening meal and laid cushions down around the low wooden table.
    Lazarus, almost seventeen, had grown into his long arms and legs. He was a handsome young man. The young girls of the village eyed him shyly behind their shawls. He was not yet interested in marriage, and Martha was glad her father was not in any hurry to add to their household.
    The gate opened again and Mary stepped into the courtyard.
    â€œWhere have you been? Supper is almost ready and you have been no help.” The words were out before Martha thought.
    Mary hung her head. “Do not be angry with me, sister. Phoebe’s goat had triplets. I wanted to see them.”
    Martha gave an exasperated sigh. Staying angry with her gentle sister was a futile effort. “Come, let us eat.”
    As they dipped the still warm bread into the lentil stew, Ephraim turned to Martha. “In all this talk about this John the Baptist, I almost forgot. I have heard news of Esther’s father, Simon.”
    She gasped. “Oh Abba, I thought by now he would have died.”
    â€œHe lives still, the leprosy grows slowly.”
    â€œHis family will be glad to get any word of him, Abba.”
    â€œYes, I’m sure you are right. It seems a merchant passed him on the road and had pity when Simon called out to him. The merchant was on his way to Jerusalem and would leave a message for his family with Jacob the tanner, to tell them he was still alive.”
    Martha thought of her friend Esther and her eyes filled with tears. “Does his family know now?”
    Ephraim sighed. “Yes. By now they do. For whatever comfort it may bring them.”

 6 
    Martha moved her shuttle along the warping stick on the loom and then pushed down to tighten the fabric. Her latest project, another shawl, was nearly finished. This was a plain head shawl to replace the one Mary had torn on a thornbush. She had left the yarn in its natural state, but couldn’t resist a contrasting occasional thread of deep green, knowing it was Mary’s favorite color.
    She listened to her sister play her lyre and found the music soothing. She had not learned an instrument herself. There was no time over the years with the household to see to.
    Word came to the village that the Baptist was still baptizing after almost a year and no soldiers had come to arrest him. His words ran through her mind many times over the months: “Prepare ye the way of the Lord.” The Lord was coming? The Messiah? She shrugged to herself. The Messiah had been foretold for hundreds of years, since Father Abraham. His people had cried out for him for a long time, but he hadn’t come. Would now be any different? Would he suddenly appear and deliver them from their Roman oppressors?
    She sniffed. Who was this strange man in the desert? Had God truly sent him? She