Two from Galilee by Marjorie Holmes

already up, rousing the family, for this day would be full. They must make haste to wash and dress and be about their devotions. She scurried about giving orders, goaded by a wry anticipation. On the strong tide of her vitality they were swept to the synagogue.
    The day was bright and sparkling. Light washed the familiar rose red stones of the building, set upon the highest point of the city so that none might look down upon it, its face turned east toward Jerusalem. The light enhanced the multicolored Sabbath robes that flowed into the place of worship like a wind-tossed tulip garden. Mary felt dazzled by it. Leading the younger children, she followed her mother into the women's gallery. A bustle of interest followed her; she could feel her own beauty, quickened and enhanced by love.
    Hannah was beside her, eyes lively, in proud defiance. Below them were the men in their fringed prayer shawls; the women relegated to second position and yet above them behind their wooden screen, like angels smiling down. Regarding the men who were so mighty, had such power, and yet were as nothing, as lost sheep, without the women. The rich male voices rose in the chants and psalms.
    Joseph was beside his father. Not far from them was Abner, who seemed even from this distance the picture of wretchedness. His eyes were redder than usual—had he been weeping? Mary wondered sadly. Cleophas and his father were toward the back, richly robed, the gold on their dark wrists and ankles gleaming. She yearned toward them too, roused and distressed. To be so cocksure and wealthy and then to suffer this baffling indignity. What an outrage! Reb Levi had made that plain, storming into the house of Joachim.
    "How is it that you put me off last year," he demanded, "and now are bargaining with that ass Jacob without even giving me notice? You must be mad—don't you realize I'm prepared to pay almost anything?"
    Joachim's reply only incensed him further. "My daughter is not for sale." No, not for sale this sweet newly awakened flesh. Though had it not been for Joseph she would not have objected to Cleophas, whom she'd always liked despite his jaunty insolence. He was engaging and exhilarating, that spoiled young traveler, though his way with girls was well known. If that handsome face was sardonic to hide his suffering now, it would not be so for long. But again it struck her as sad that love should be so divisive, lashing this person to that against another, lacerating those whom it must cast aside.
    It was time for the reading of the Torah. The candles in the seven-branched candelabra shone with pointed tongues of flame. The curtains at the back of the dais were parted, the holy chest unlocked. The priest brought forth the sacred scrolls, ivoried with age. The congregation waited for the seven chosen ones. Mary waited too in a soft dream. Surely today my father; surely today my Joseph.
    And indeed they were summoned, together with Jacob in honor of the occasion. Joachim on his heavy tread, to solemnly deliver the Hebrew passages, which the interpreter translated into Aramaic, the language of them all. Then Jacob, looking humble yet carrying the peculiar essence of his jocularity, as if to lighten and reduce to their level the weighty words of God. And finally Joseph, striding gracefully forward, his face grave yet unable to resist one shining glance upward.
    His last words had fallen, he lifted the parchments high. The old rabbi rose, clearing his furry throat and plucking at his vestments. Expectantly the congregation leaned forward. Mary clutched the railing of the balcony. Dimly she heard the words of the required announcement: Joseph ben Jacob, well known to all here assembled, desired the hand of Mary, daughter of Joachim, whose lineage was likewise of David. "If any here present have just cause to question this union, let him come forth now and make his protests known."
    In the stillness you could hear the pigeons cooing and scratching on the roof.