list and thus soothes the conquered people.”
We both looked at the hearth. There were no words between us for a time. When at last Joseph spoke again it was in a low voice.
“You think me young, but I, too, have endured much.”
“Then be satisfied with your faith and may it comfort you in hard times.”
“I offer these words as comfort for you also.”
“Oh, are you now to convert me? So that I may worship in your synagogue and rock myself to and fro as I stand in prayer to the invisible one you call your Lord?”
“Alexios, I come here to purchase excellent wood, not to make you into someone you have no desire to be.”
“Thank you.”
“In my visits of these past years I have come to know you.”
“And I you. Up to now we have been comfortable together.”
“May it continue. What seem to be boundaries may not be so.”
“Meaning?”
Joseph looked me full in the face.
“Without knowing the prophet Micah you follow the path of his words. You are a just man, a kind man. I believe your love for Sophia and hers for you does not end in the grave. Your love will be recognized.”
“We are born; we die.” I responded. “That is the beginning and the end of our existence.”
“It is not. Think of your love for her, your memories of her. Neither has ended.”
“Words, words,” I muttered.
“Love is greater than death, Alexios.”
“We must stick to what the eye can see and the ear can hear.”
Joseph paused. I was waiting for more words of the scripture he studied. I would rebut it as well, I told myself. But he surprised me.
“Alexios, tell me. You truly loved Sophia and truly love her still?”
“Don’t be silly. Of course.”
“Of course. Now think with me for a moment. When we have spoken of the Lord, you picture God as an angry, wrathful god, a god who must be appeased. A god we weak humans never can live up to. Am I right?”
“Somewhat. My belief is that we have only ourselves for help.”
“I understand. But what if, instead of an aloof, easily angered god, there is a Lord who has created all that is, and loves us and wants the very best for us. What you wanted for Sophia.”
“Yes,” I said softly. “And she was taken from me. Is that the kind of love your Lord shows us?”
He was silent, thinking. At last he spoke once more.
“There was a time when the people cried out to heaven in anguish. The prophet Isaiah spoke the word of the Lord to them. ‘Do not fear, for I am with you. I will help you. I will uphold you with my right hand, my hand of righteousness.’”
We looked at each other for some time. I was the first to turn away.
My eyes had dried. I felt a stirring of hope within me as well as a deep fatigue. I had not spoken of Sophia for years, and the sudden onrush of memories overwhelmed me.
“Perhaps,” I said. I rose. “But let us not argue the matter further. A good night’s sleep will prepare you for your journey home.”
“I bid you a good night also,” Joseph replied.
We went to our separate beds in silence. As I extinguished the oil lamp on my bedside table, I spoke words into the darkness that I had not used since that last night before her birth pains began.
“Good night, my darling. Rest well.”
For the first time in many months, my sleep was dreamless.
After a simple breakfast in the morning, I invited Joseph to walk with me to the tallest cypress in my land of trees. It is where Sophia’s face was bright with joy as she told me she was with child. She and our son are buried there.
We stood there silently for a time, Joseph and I. My anger and resentment of the night before had softened. I asked him to say a few words from his own tradition. He offered a brief prayer of thanksgiving for Sophia’s life.
“Eternal Lord, we thank you for the life of Sophia. When sadness threatens to overcome Alexios, remind him that she and the child are held close in your everlasting care, free from pain in glorious light along with others we have loved. To you we ascribe all honor and glory forever. So be it.”
Our arms around each other’s shoulders, I walked with him to his horse and loaded cart. Simple words of farewell and he was on his way back to Nazareth.
As my hand lowered from a final wave of parting, I realized that Joseph accepted me and came to me not only as a buyer of wood but also as a true friend.
4
The summer that followed was exceptionally busy and I had few further thoughts of Joseph until the winter lull set in. It was a time when I made visits to every section of my woodland to make notes of the new plantings my laborers would make in the spring.
I also noted the trees that were ready for harvesting. One in particular was a great oak that an ancestor long generations ago had planted. It was a magnificent tree, towering above those around it. But it also blocked sunlight from younger trees, and I had decided that it was time to bring the great oak down.
In the early years the oak had been tended well. The resulting trunk was thick and even up to a considerable height, and as I surveyed it, the thought of Joseph and the construction of large wheels for huge carts sprang to my mind. I smiled at the thought and it remained with me through the winter months. How pleased he would be when he heard my proposal!
The days turned warmer at last. A message came with a traveler going north. Joseph expected to be with me in three days time.
The weather continued warm and the blooms of spring were all around. I asked my housekeeper to prepare midday meal packets for Joseph and me on the day he was to arrive.
He came. We made our usual visit to the storehouse and soon his order list was fulfilled. It was barely midday as he turned to me.
“Quick work on a lovely day.” He smiled. “I may as well make for home.”
“Indeed it is a lovely day. I have a diversion for us to enjoy this afternoon.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. We have packets from my housekeeper with delights for our midday meal. I have two secrets of the land to show you. We can see the first and then enjoy our meal in the pleasant surroundings of the second.”
“Intriguing,” smiled Joseph. “I will stay.”
Within
