[M] Good morning Gabe. Was your evening refreshing?
[G] Yes, Rivka and Aaron were most gracious. How then shall we continue?
[M] Let us take to the garden while it is still cool.
There are some thoughts of Yeshua. He, but a few years older, always was as a guide or guardian and teacher to the other children.
And how he and the other boys would play tricks on me. They would hide our food, claiming to have given it all away to hungry strangers. I would admonish them, saying that we are to share our good fortune, but not denying of ourselves some nourishment, except should strangers be in the most dreadful straights. And as they laughed I would say, “There you go again, always breaking the head of your dear mother.”
The girls would rush in saying, “Mother, nearby are your friends coming now to visit.” So many times I would take to my broom, look out beyond the doorpost to see only dust clouds on the road, no visitors. With accompanying laughter I would then chase them about with broom as a threatening staff. Such fun we had.
Of course like all children, the fights, the words among themselves, it might be all of a day sometimes. I let them know as to when to cease. Such big disputes, but then I thought that we are all Jews, it is our tradition. Gabe, I am making a joke, so laugh, please.
And I must speak of Yeshua, the protector. In our village, there was not one Kattan, you know, a little boy who ever would get away with pushing or teasing Lydda or Anne. That Yeshua would not allow. To him it was almost as Mitzvah, a commandment.
Yosef and I would often just sit back and watch the little ones at play. How often would Yeshua make new or fix their old toys. And the fresh games, I still laugh when remembering a special one. Yeshua would direct them in what they called the March of the Chickens. They would pretend to be the Invader soldiers, parading about so that even, at times, our flock of chickens would follow. I believe the chickens were expecting food. You understand, Gabe, we Jews have always tried to find some humor, even under tyranny. Humor, with faith in HA-SHEM, keeps our resolve.
Yeshua would explain and tell of so many things, often in story form. How it kept their attention and how much they, and we too, would enjoy. And there was a lesson of love for the Most Holy One and respect for all peoples and of the traditions of our Jewish faith. Yeshua taught of the ancient Psalms as well as the workings of our prophet, Isaiah.
When one or more of the children seemed troubled, Yeshua would ask of Adonai, by the prayer, Yacha, to be generous and to deliver all from distress. I think that it was Lydda who first called him rabbi. I was shocked, but the name was never meant in disrespect to any elder. The children were firmly cautioned to not say that of Yeshua in public. It was their own . . . how do you say that?
[G] Are you thinking of the term, nickname?
[M] Yes, although I do not recall hearing that particular wording, it sounds as though it would apply.
Years later, as he traveled throughout the region, I have been told, Yeshua was indeed Rabbi to his friends as well as to the crowds that gathered to hear his words. All of the time he would uphold the ancient laws, adding lessons of peace and kindness in stories from everyday examples in life. My darling son, always, always the teacher.
Let us walk about, as these old bones stiffen a bit. And we may speak of other things.