family, nevertheless he was maintaining his stand to honor her. After all, Abraham refused to take another wife besides Sarah even without any child. And Abraham was their father. All he wanted was for his mother to understand and respect his decision. “I will continue to do what I know to do and wait for YHWH to smile down upon me with a son. And I hope very soon,” he said out loud, talking to himself. His situation appeared peculiar to him as he truly could not name another man in his tribe or other tribes facing this same dilemma. There must be at least one, he pondered. Many men in his age group had more than one wife, he realized, solely for this same reason—sons. Some in this bid had defiled many girls, something he refused to do. He was too honorable for that. “Jehovah will satisfy the desire of my heart. I am blessed to belong to the tribe of Manasseh. I am not the least of my brethren. My quivers are filled with sons. I will make it to the promised land and my inheritance will not be taken from me. . .” As he recited his favorite prayer lines, Zelophehad felt some calmness return to him. He decided to go by his olive groves and to see how Kish was doing and to get his mind off his unsettling thoughts.
On getting to his farm, he found Kish with his torso bare, sweating profusely as he worked. He watched him a while and as always felt compassion for the boy. He had bought him three years ago from his uncle, a very harsh man. His plan was to liberate him after six years as permitted by the law. That was the only way he could help the boy. Kish’s father, a Cushite slave, was bought many years ago by Zelophehad’s uncle who also gave him a crippled Hebrew girl for wife. Kish and his sister, the result of this union, had automatically belonged to their father’s master. Kish’s father had gotten his freedom after many years but was not allowed to leave with his family under the law. Kish had been devastated and adversely affected by his father abandoning them. He had become defiant, which had led to a lot of suffering at the hands of his master. He was always being flogged for one reason or another. On one occasion he was caught trying to run away and was given the beating of his life. It was at this point that Zelophehad came into the picture, bargaining with his uncle with much pleading for the boy. He had paid twice the price he was worth. His brothers and mother had teased him mercilessly. They credited his benevolence to his lack of a son. Maybe they were right, because every time he looked at the boy, fatherly emotions welled up. Maybe God will honor his good deed, a slave boy for a son. “Did you get off as much of the mildew as possible?” Kish straightened up and bowed in greeting. His face tanned by daily exposure to the sun made him look more like a Cushite than a Hebrew. “Take a break and go get something to drink and eat before you faint.” He did not stop what he was doing immediately as you would expect of a child his age but took his time to finish brushing off the mildew from the shrub he was dealing with. Neither did he show any excitement, which worried Zelophehad a great deal. He made sure he did not give Kish more work than was appropriate for a boy his age. He talked to him gently. He allowed him enough freedom to go and come as he liked, as he had allowed him to continue to live in his family tent with his mother and sister. Kish was not used to acts of kindness and no matter how Zelophehad tried to change his perception, the boy still did not trust people, especially men. “Go on. I said take a break. Go on home and get something to drink and eat. I will continue where you left off.” Kish was only fourteen but looked and behaved like a man. He was sturdy and muscular, scarred in the face and on his back. His forlorn looks of a beaten cub had Zelophehad’s heart melt every time he looked at him. In those black pebbled eyes was pain and sadness that should never have been his. He was too young. At his age Zelophehad remembered being carefree and happy. He strongly wanted to help him heal and learn to trust again. He had three more years to go and he would become a free Hebrew. His mother was one and he was being raised as a Hebrew. Zelophehad planned not only to give him his freedom but a life afterward if Kish would allow him. His mother and sister still officially belonged to Zelophehad’s uncle but he would help him redeem them. He hoped the boy will not take off in search of his father like he attempted before. If he did, there was nothing he could do to stop him as he would be a free man by then. He knew how he had been with his own father and could not imagine growing up without one.
They were battling with early signs of mildew attack and were trying to get rid of as many oil spots as possible from the foliage before they became powdery and messed up the berries. Zelophehad made a lot of money from olive oil, an essential commodity that was needed by all. Their lamps were fueled by olive oil. The tabernacle consumed half of their production because the lamps in the tabernacle must be kept lighted at all times. He was also planning to harvest some olive wood, which is valued for ornamental work, before they relocated. Because of their increasing stay at their camps nowadays, many of them were able to cultivate the land around them. Vineyards and olive groves were common, even though sometimes they would have to abandon farmlands before they could harvest their crops. Some people had simply refused to venture into farming because of this. For him, he would continue to plant just as they continued to marry and have children. His only setback was lack of enough hands. His wife who was his main help had been in confinement for eighty days, but thank God it was over now. He would begin to enjoy her company again on the farm.
4
Back in their tent Zelophehad’s wife was feeding her baby Milcah and singing as she did so. Her three daughters surrounded her to listen and learn as she sang the song of deliverance. “I will sing unto the Lord for he has triumphed gloriously, the horse and the rider thrown into the sea . . .” Noah, clinging to her mother’s side, asked her to tell them again the story behind the song. The song was popularly known among the Israelites as the song of Moses and Miriam. It was first sung at the crossing of the Red Sea, spontaneously composed by Miriam and Moses as they led the people to give thanks to YHWH for their deliverance. Even though she had no clear recollection of what had happened at the Red Sea because she had been about Noah’s age then, Zelophehad’s wife like many Israelite knew every detail of the great testimony of their deliverance from Egypt. She began her story with the time when Moses fearlessly went to Pharaoh, king of Egypt, to demand the release of all the Israelites. She recounted how the king of Egypt had proved stubborn, playing tricks on Moses. She recounted all the different plagues YHWH rained down on the Egyptians as punishment for Pharaoh’s stubbornness. She explained carefully the last plague that broke Pharaoh, not wanting to terrify her daughters. The girls all laughed and clapped their hands in delight as their mother ended the story and their baby sister belched at the same time. “But Imah, how did our fathers get to Egypt and why did they have to go to such a mean place in the first place?” Noah asked. “Abbah told me that it was because YHWH planned it to be so,” Mahlah, the firstborn, quickly responded before their mother could gather her thoughts. Wiser than her sisters by virtue of her age, plus having heard the story more times than they had, Mahlah looked to their mother for confirmation. Her mother looked at her with pride and smiled and started another chapter of the story. Zelophehad’s wife, who was a pious woman, loved telling these stories not only to entertain her daughters but to remind herself time and time again of the greatness of the God they served. It gave her strength and hope for the future. “Well girls, you know that Abraham our father had Isaac, and Isaac had Jacob, who became the father of the twelve patriarchs. Now because the patriarchs were jealous of their little brother Joseph being their father’s favorite, they sold him as a slave into Egypt.” Noah, who was always trailing her sister in a bid to outdo, again interrupted her, exclaiming, “Now I know why our fathers became slaves in Egypt. It was because Joseph, the first Israelite to get to Egypt, went there as a slave!” Their mother smiled and continued her story, marveling at this interesting show of intelligent reasoning by her eight-year-old daughter. “Well, my lamb, I am not sure about that, but God was with him and rescued him from all the troubles and challenges he faced in Egypt. Joseph found favor with people everywhere he went, even with Pharaoh the king of Egypt. The king made him a ruler in Egypt, his second in command. Somewhere along the line, a great famine struck all Egypt and Canaan, bringing great suffering, and our people could not find food.” Mahlah looking confused asked, “You said Egypt and Canaan, where did Jacob and his sons live?” “Oh they used to live in the land of Canaan, but as foreigners before they migrated to Egypt. Anyway, under the rule of Joseph, Egypt was able to conserve a large reserve of food, and all the surrounding nations went to Egypt for food. When Jacob, Joseph’s father, heard that there was food in Egypt, he sent his sons down to Egypt to buy food. So the patriarchs visited Egypt,
