Legal Property

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Friday, July 27, 2012

Fiction Friday - One More time - Chapter 49D

(continued. Would Jesus heal the daughter of a Canaanite?)

Jesus' words were so in opposition to the look in His eyes. Did He want her to beg?

Ah, I remember. “Lord,” she said, “Even the little dogs are allowed to clean up the crumbs under the table.” Odd how she now remembered one of her childhood Sunday School lessons and connected it with Keddy.


She had gotten the message—first, have faith; second, it didn’t take a huge amount of faith to ask; and third, humility. Oh yes, and that He alone was Lord!

Jesus smiled. “Woman, your faith is great; it shall be as you asked.”

For a moment, Sarah froze. A grin dawned on her face and spread from ear to ear, even while tears again spilled down her face.

“Thank you, Master,” she said softly enough that only He could hear. “Thank you.”

She rose to her feet and bowed her head toward him. Then she turned and ran homeward, truth and life flooding her mind and heart. She walked into their house, knowing what she’d find. Paul sat by Tamara’s bed, smiling, and he held a finger to his lips. Tamara slept, the flush of fever gone from her face, a smile on her face even as she slept.

Paul whispered into Sarah’s ear. “What happened? You were gone all morning. And your clothes look like you robbed a homeless person.”

“It’s a long story, Paul.”

“I have time.”

Paul rose and placed an arm around Sarah, and they walked into the common room. “Soon. Now, husband, I’m hungry. I don’t think I’ve eaten anything all day. Do you mind if I go get something to eat?”

“I have a better idea,” Paul responded. “Why don’t I go talk Shalisha into letting me have enough to bring back for all of us? When Tamara stopped convulsing and lost the fever, she ate and drank her juice and some bread, then she went to sleep.”

“Shalisha won’t be there, I don’t think. I remember seeing her in the Sabbath crowd.”

“Well, Martha, then, maybe. And even if they are not around, I’ll bet I can find some food.”

Sarah laughed. “I’ll just bet you can, you honey-tongued man!”

Paul opened the door and nearly ran right over the top of Martha, who stood with one hand raised to knock on their door, her other hand holding a tray of food that very nearly spilled onto the ground before she caught it.

“Hello, Martha, what have we here?” Paul said.

“I brought you some food. How is the little one? Shalisha just got home and she said something about a Man named Jesus or something like that Who said you were there—oh, no, I mean Shalisha said Sarah was there talking to Jesus, and that she—Sarah—had been hurt or killed and Jesus lifted her up, and then Sarah bowed to Him and she said—Shalisha said, that is—that Jesus said Tamara would be delivered or healed or something like that. Is Sarah all right, and is Tamara all right?” Martha’s words spilled all over each other.

“Thank you, Martha,” said Paul, “both Sarah and Tamara are fine. Come in and see for yourself.” He opened the door wide, and Martha followed him in.

“Sarah. You don’t look so bad—that is if you don’t take into consideration that your clothes look dusty and torn. What happened to you? Where is Tamara? Would you like something to eat?”

“Come see for yourself—but please be quiet—Tamara is asleep.” Martha followed Sarah into Tamara’s bedroom.

“Are you sure she is all right?” Martha whispered. “She is lying there so quiet she looks … she looks ...”

Tamara opened her eyes. Martha clapped her hands. “She is alive!”

“Hi, Martha. I’m hungry. Did you bring food?” Tamara hopped up from the pallet. “Why is everybody crying? Let’s go eat.”

Sarah picked up Tamara and squeezed her until she squealed, “Mama, you’re squishing me!”

Paul took her from Sarah’s arms and held her above his head, making her laugh. He set her down on the floor. “Okay, gigglebox, let’s eat!” He turned to Martha. “I think you should stay and eat with us.”

“Oh, no, it’s not for me. I didn’t bring enough for me, too, and anyway I already ate,” she said, patting her stomach. “I’m so delighted to see Tamara well again. I’ll tell Dorcas. How surprised she’ll be! And the rest of the household, too, they’ll all be so pleased.” She left, still chattering as she went through the door.

Paul, Sarah, and Tamara sat around the table. “If there’s ever been a time when it would be appropriate to offer thanks, this has got to be it,” Paul said. He took Sarah’s and Tamara’s hands and bowed his head. “Most High God, we thank You from the bottom of our hearts for restoring Tamara to us, and for your provision for all our needs. Amen.”

“Amen,” Sarah and Tamara repeated.