murielle

A Long Walk

“What’s the matter? Why are you trailng behind?” Neriah called to her daughter. “Come along, girl.”

Shielding her eyes from the glare of the sun on the sand, the girl smiled half-heatedly. “I’m coming as fast as I can, Imma, but it’s hard to walk.”

“Hard to walk? It’s hard for everyone to walk. So, why is it so hard for you?”

The girl tried to gauge her mother’s expression, her body language, and to estimate what her reaction might be if she just out and told her.

“Well?”

“My feet are too big,” Gili said.

“What? Your feet are too big? What does that mean? What are you talking about, my joy?”

“My feet are too big for my sandals, Imma.”

“Stop!”

Gili stopped and watched as her mother scurried to her side. “Show me!”

Dutifully, she raised one shod foot then the other so her mother could inspect them. Her toes hung over the tops of the soles and her heal stuck out in the back. Neriah fiddled with first one and the other then sighed heavily. “This won’t do at all. They’re too small for you.”

Gili responded with a crooked smile and a little shrug. “A bit.”

“A bit! They’re cutting off your circulation. If you wear them one minute longer we’ll have to amputate your feet.”

Gili giggled behind her hands.

“Abe! Abe! Come here and see this! You must see this right now! Take them off!  No!  Don’t!  Your father has to see this or he’ll never believe me.  Able! I need you now!”

* * *

“How did he do it?”

“You know, Abba. He talked to this one, he talked to that one, he went through three or four different families and eventually we all had sandals that fit.”

“Don’t you care they’re for boys?”

“No, I don’t. They fit and they don’t hurt my feet. I think I can walk all the way to the Promise Land in these. They’re well worn-in.”

“Whose were they before you got them?”

“Go ask Imma. You ask too many questions, Benny. You make my head hurt.” Her little brother responded by taking her hand and rubbing his face against her arm. Correction, wiped his nose on her sleeve.

“Yuck! You’re disgusting!”

“Gili don’t talk to your brother that way.”

“But he…”

“Gili?”

“Yes, Imma. I’m sorry.”

* * *

“You gather and I’ll hold the basket this morning, my joy.”

So Gili scooched down and began to gather the sweet flaky substance from the ground. Enough for the family and only enough, no more. She had helped her mother gather it every morning for forever. “Is your back sore, Imma?”

“No, dear, but it’s getting harder to bend. Puah says it won’t be long.”

“What won’t be long?”

“The baby.”

“Baby?”

“Yes, Gili. Surely you’ve noticed my belly growing…”

“Oh, yes, but I didn’t...A baby! Will it be a boy or a girl? I want a girl! Too many boys in our family already. Imma!  A baby! Can I take care of it? Can I? I’ll be so good to it you won’t have to tell me anything twice. I promise.”

Neriah laughed. “Yes a baby. Yes you can help. I will need your help, with the boys at first and then with the baby, but yes I’ll need you to help me. As for it being a boy or a girl only Adonai knows now, but we’ll know soon enough. Another girl would be nice, wouldn’t it?”

“Oh, Imma!” Gili lept up to hug her mother. “I will be the perfect daughter you wait and see.”

“Who would want a perfect daughter? Be yourself. It’s you I love. I don’t want any strangers around me.” She placed a tender kiss on Gili’s cheek.

“What will you call her?”

“We’ll see. Your father has some say in the matter, too.”

* * *

Gili held up little Mira’s feet for her father to inspect.

“She’s so tiny. I don’t mind carrying her. I could carry her for ever. Besides, where will you find shoes small enough for her, Abba? She’s so tiny.”

“Yes. I know. But she must start to walk on her own soon so she will be strong like you and the boys. There’s a man in the camp over to the west who makes sandals and he will trade for them.”

“What will you trade?”

“Let’s see what he needs first. Would you like to come with me?”

“Oh, yes, Abba!”

(Exodus 20:12)