When Jesus Wept - By Bodie Page 0,79

day and discarded once a week, to be replaced with fresh stuffing. Tavita washed faces, cut and brushed hair, sewed new robes from blanket stock.

How she found time for all that and nursing as well I never discovered.

After another week, with rotating care provided by Mary and Tavita, it was clear that a true miracle was in progress. Not another death did we have.

Some, like Jason, were not only stronger, but they were gaining weight by eating regular, nourishing, hot meals.

Others, like Suda, who had been very low indeed, were brought back literally from the brink of the grave. Suda, who still mourned his lost brother, was able to swallow an entire bowl of broth and nibble a bit of bread.

Mary rocked the children. She sang to them and told them stories about Jesus. “Do you know how, when our great-great-great grandfathers were in the wilderness, God sent manna … bread from heaven … to feed them? Well, Jesus did something just like that in Galilee. He fed thousands of people from just five barley loaves and two little fish.”

“And then what happened?” they chorused.

“More later,” she promised.

Disappointed groans followed her to her next circle of patients, but they were the sounds of boys on the mend, their strength returning.

Tavita also told every one of the Sparrows about Jesus of Nazareth. “In Capernaum there lives a girl named Deborah. She’s about your age,” the servant said, pointing toward a twelve-year-old. “Well, she got sick and died.”

“Did she have the plague too?” piped a listener.

“No, something much more sudden,” Tavita said. “But do you know what Rabbi Jesus did for her? He spoke to her, and she woke up and sat up.”

“Was she really dead?”

Tavita nodded vigorously. “Really and truly. But Master Jesus spoke her name, and she came to life again.”

Suda whispered, “I wish he did that for my brother Hiram.”

Tavita folded the boy in her arms and rocked him. “Me too, lamb. But Hiram’s in olam haba now. Who else do you know in olam haba who was there to meet him?”

“Mama and Papa,” Suda said, his lower lip trembling. “They both died the same year we came to Jerusalem. That’s how we came to live in the quarry.”

“There now, my sweet boy,” Tavita crooned, stroking Suda’s forehead and cheeks. “Someday we’ll go see them together, eh? What a reunion that will be.”

At the other end of the hall Mary sang. She had a beautiful, lilting voice. “Listen! This is a song written and sung by my namesake, who was the Lawgiver’s sister:

“Sing to the LORD,

for he is highly exalted

The horse and its rider

he has hurled into the sea.1

“Now I know,” Mary said, “your terrible sore throats won’t let you sing now. But I’ll teach this to you, and soon enough we’ll all sing it.”

They all believed her and looked forward to joining her choir.

And so did I.

Chapter 26

There came a morning when I awoke with a headache and a sore throat. In the reflection of a polished brass serving tray I inspected my tongue and saw two pale white spots there, each about the size of a denarius. I did not tell my sister, but she knew instinctively I was not well. I was shaky when I walked and halting in my speech.

The symptoms appeared on the same day word came that our departure from the hospital was abruptly ordered. A ferret-faced man named Ra’nabel ben Dives, who was secretary to High Priest Caiaphas, arrived at the head of a pack train of supplies.

It was more like a royal procession: a half score of donkeys were tended by twoscore servants and preceded by a crier and three men blowing silver trumpets.

“Make way for the high priest’s retinue. These supplies are urgently needed by the suffering beggars of Jerusalem. Make way!”

Ra’nabel, head piously covered, walked behind the procession, praying loudly and thanking the God of Israel for the sacrificial generosity of Lord Caiaphas. By his prayer he informed the citizens of Jerusalem that this charity was absolutely essential to the survival of the Sparrows.

In truth the total supplies Caiaphas sent would only have required a single cart to transport, but they were welcome just the same. Or so I thought when one of the servants pounded on the door of the hospital, and Ra’nabel announced the gift.

While I spoke in a normal tone, the secretary continued stridently proclaiming to all Jerusalem the goodwill offered by Caiaphas. He made certain to make the aid sound massive and the plight of