The Young Woman Who Wasn't Allowed Any Job

It must have been a dreadful time for many in religious communities that were low on compassion. Mary was one of those 'unfortunates' who was in an occupation openly frowned on by the religious authorities but secretly supported by the very same people. For reason unknown to us, this young harlot was exposed, and the Pharisees were determined that Jesus (Yeshua) would make sure she was stoned.  Here is an excerpt from Jesus' life from His mother's viewpont.

    When the Pharisees exposed Mary, hoping she would be
 stoned,Yeshua had rescued her from certain death, but since
 then she had had no work, no work at all.
She had hunted all over town for a respectable job,
 but everyone looked down on someone

who had been a zonah.
It made no difference that she had not

wanted to be one. It made no difference that she had no
 choice;either that or beg,
 and who would toss coins to a
 beautiful young talitha: one that was obviously in perfect
health?

    When she was not looking for work, Mary frequently

trudged behind the Rabboni, Yeshua,
at a respectful distance. 

She esteemed Him very highly, but did not

feel worthy to be seen in His Shekinah.
   But then one evening that had all changed. She got out

her alabaster box of rich ointment
 and cradled it between her hands.
It had taken her a year of careful saving
to purchase the rare perfume.
She knew she could sell it for a good price,

and survive a little longer, but that is not
what she wanted to

do with it.
   “Yeshua,” she whispered, as the tears slid down her

cheeks,” Will you understand what I am trying to do?”
 As she plodded along the empty street,
she had the alabaster ointment carefully concealed
within the folds of her garment.
 Far in the distance she saw a group of men
strolling towards their supper appointment.
She had overheard one of the Hibernim inviting

Yeshua and His disciples for a meal,
 and was determined to offer this rebbe,
 this healer, this most wonderful friend,
 her supreme gift in gratitude
for what He had done for her.

  Her heart squeezed with fear even while her feet took

her closer to the gleaming mansion and she saw the men

disappear one by one through the enormous doors.
 What if ‘her’ Hibernim was within those portals?
She knew it was most probable.

   The porter had left the door slightly ajar to let in the

evening breezes. Mary slipped in, and followed the sounds of

deep, muted voices. They led her to where men were dining

on couches in a massive dining room.
  Suddenly she saw Him, and she had eyes for Yeshua only.

With a cry on her lips, she hurried over and sank to her knees.

Yeshua,” she whispered. “Yeshua, Yeshua!” Oh that He will

know how grateful I am for all He has done for me!

    As she opened the alabaster box for the first time, a sweet

Perfume permeated the air. Someone sniffed deprecatingly and

she heard a critical comment or two but they barely registered.

The tears of adoration and gratitude that flowed down her

cheeks washed away the dust from His feet. With reverential

tenderness Mary lifted each one, and dabbed at them with her

flowing locks until no dust smudges remained.

  There was a lull in the conversation, and Mary looked up.

Yeshua rested His hand lightly on her ankle-length hair, and

then tilted her chin with one finger so that she would look

directly at Him.

   “Thy sins are forgiven.” His voice was so rich, and kindly.

She gazed rapturously into His eyes until He spoke again.

            “Thy faith hath saved thee, go in peace.”

            Somehow Mary found her way to the door,
 clutching the broken alabaster box to her bosom.
She walked back to her house as one in a dream,
 and knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that she
 would follow Him where ever He went, and

serve Him with her whole heart.

Does this sound like a time in history you would like to know more about? If so,
you may order the book Mary's Diarywww.marilynshistoricalnovels.com on line from my website.

Through Roman Streets at Night

Preview of the future book Around Smoldering Coals
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Talitha slunk down until she was barely eye-level with the top row of bricks, and saw the boys conceal themselves in the deeper shadows. She wondered briefly how children could survive as beggars, but her own concerns snuffed out the thought.

            Just then, the sentries’ flame flashed high against the black night sky

---

and she shrank back. Talitha hardly dared to breathe as she listened to the receding footfalls until they were indecipherable then leaned over to get the attention of the beggars.

            “Yeled,” She beckoned then watched them stiffen and look around then up before spotting her. The whites of their eyes looked strange in the shadowy darkness.

            “Come here!” she called in a piercing whisper. They shrank back and appeared to be talking to each other.

            “Come here!” she pleaded.

            “What did you call us?” the taller boy, who looked to be about eleven, demanded.

            Talitha’s cheeks reddened.

            “Yeled,” she confessed. That was the Jewish word for 'boy'. I need to be more careful to speak Latin. Can't give anyone any reason to suspect we’re followers of the Messiah.

            “Well, what ya want?”

            “Show us a secret way through the city.” I’m sure they know their way around everywhere.

            “Why should we?” The young lad never relaxed his stance for an instant. He was ever on the alert, his eyes darting this way and that and in every direction.

            Talitha took the loaf of bread from Stephanos and showed it to them. “We'll pay you!”

            The younger vagrant leapt to his feet, lithe as one of the scrawny alley cats and gazed up at them. Talitha wondered if his mouth was drooling at the sight of so much food. She watched intently as he turned his head to say something into his brother’s ear.

            Out of the corner of her eye, Talitha saw an orange glow in the distance. The torchbearer had turned and was coming back! The older boy caught the movement of her head, and in an instant, both vanished. Talitha and her small brother once again flattened themselves against the roof of the two-story building.

            “I'm cold,” Stephanos’ words were barely more audible than a sigh, but then his teeth started clattering. Talitha pulled him close against her body for warmth and tucked her knitted palla around them both. They listened, breathing as shallowly as possible as the heavy footfalls below them became more distinct.

            “Where are those thieving rascals?” the guard growled. “They’re usually right around this here court-yard making a nuisance of themselves.” Talitha felt herself tighten up. The harsh sound of his sword striking against stone made her cringe. Finally, the light disappeared and the sound of marching feet pounding along the cobblestone street diminished.

  Talitha slid into a sitting position and then froze. What is that scratching sound? Was it a nasty old rat? She hoped it was the boys.

            Talitha looked carefully around. In the pallid moonlight, the head and shoulders of two shaggy-haired boys were silhouetted with nothing below them. She gasped before realizing they were peering through some sort of trapdoor to the roof.

            “Come with me,” the older boy beckoned. “We’ll git you outta this court-yard, an' where ya wanna be.”

            Talitha bit her lip. As much as I want to trust them, how can I be sure they’ll take us where we want to go? They had disappeared into the denser darkness of the ‘hole’ but the older one poked his head back up once more.

            “Well?” He demanded. “Ain’t ya coming? If you are, we must skedaddle. We have a long ways to go before first light.”

            “How do you know where to take us,” Talitha whispered as she followed her younger brother down the fraying rope ladder.

            “Ain’t you one of them Christianus?” he asked.

Talitha's grip weakened. “What makes you ask that?”

            “I knowed yer voice and that wine-colored palla you wear. We seen you before. Yer one of those pale-skins from the catacombs, aren'tcha? We seen you buyin' bread from that thar baker.”

            In the dim light, Talitha saw how he reached back to steady Stephanos. “We know there is a fish symbol on the baker’s doorpost where we spotted you but the big roses haven't seen it. They don’t know that he's a Christianus: not yet! Course others buy from him also.”

            Talitha carefully climbed down after the disembodied voice somewhere ahead of her. “You-you won’t tell on that baker will you?”

            “No way,” The younger boy piped up for the first time. “He gived us his leftover bread jist before dark. That is if we don't come around too often.”

            “I think he says that because he don't want all the other beggars buggin’ him,” the older one remarked.

            “Or maybe he feeds some of the others on the days you're not supposed to come,” Talitha suggested.

            “Quiet. We will have to cut through the courtyard. No one’s awake this late at night but you gotta be careful.”

            “’Cept the night watchman,” Little Brother reminded him.

            “Shh! But that’s not ‘til later. He is a bumbling old fool who drinks too much and won’t give us a lick o' trouble.”

Talitha’s heart pounded as she raced lightly after the vagabonds. How do I know these beggars can be trusted? Maybe they intend to lead us on a wild pig chase until we are exhausted then steal the bread and run. I’m weary already. I wonder how Stephanos is doing. I have not heard a peep from him for a long time. She clutched her small brother’s hand when they slid along with their backs against a wall. She almost stumbled over a sleeping body or two huddled in doorways and after that watched her steps more carefully.

As they crept around the edge of the court-yard, Talitha could soon make out the crouching form of the watchman. “Who goes there?” He muttered sleepily.

“You hush up, ole Barrah,” the elder brother scolded. “It is only Broken Nose and his kid brother, so go back to sleep. You seen us lotza times.”

“But who’s with yah?” he slurred while hunching himself up and peered bleary-eyed at the foursome.

“Just some kids that got lost. I’m showing them this here shortcut to their home.”

“Yous be gone with you before you wake someone an’ I git blamed.”

Broken Nose twisted the wooden bar on a heavy plank door and cautiously peered out. He saw no one save for some beggars that he knew huddled in the archway. They appeared to be fast asleep. He beckoned to the others to follow him. They trailed silently behind him for a while before he spoke again. “We will soon be going down three crooked alleyways, and then will dart across the main intersection. It is not safe, of course, but there ain’t no other way. If you follow closely, we should make it. Do what I do. I'll show you a hedge to hide under ‘til the next leg o' the journey.”

   
                 

Have You Ever Lost a Penny?

This is an excerpt from the book I was telling you about last week. 

The picture isn't accurate of course because this wdding took place centuries ago and it was a disaster for the bride to lose one penny! This isn't the only book available at www.marilynshistoricalnovels.com either. I hope you find one you like.

Poor Michal! She was frantic with worry today. Raddai

had gone on a business trip with his father but would

return by nightfall. For the first time in their short married life

Michal was dreading his return.

Mary is Afraid

Hurry, hurry, hurry! 

You are running out of time! Only a few more days and the deal is off!

Buy one book and get any other one free from now until Christmas Boxing Day. Got it? Here's your chance for a free book but the offer is off at midnight on the 26th. 

Run over to my website and see what grabs your attention.

The following is an excerpt from my "Christmas book.'

 www.marilynhistoricalnovels.com

Mary has gone to visit her Aunt Elisabeth, but in spite of all the enjoyable times, she worried much about how the man she was engaged to was going to treat her now that she was pregnant. The worst he could do was have her stoned. Sometimes Mary's throat would ache with anxiety.

What Will Happen to the Twins?

With bombs destroying nearby streets, air raid sirens screaming, and blackout curtains compulsory, Birmingham, England is a fearful place to be, but for a pregnant teenage war bride fleeing to Canada to be with her husband is a frightening option. 

Sailing on a ship with submarines lurking nearby makes her uneasy, but so do more personal fears. Does Randall still love her in spite of the fact she's already pregnant? Will her parents ever forgive her for marrying him? Will he be furious to find out she is expecting twins? Will it help if she gave one up for adoption since he doesn't know she is carrying two? 

Later she discovers that he had been deported from the army for a reason no one is talking about and soon after arriving home ends up in jail also for a mystifying reason! 

Grace has big problems but there is hope.

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 Two Mothers, Twin Daughters is the first in a series called Marita's Misery.  From now 'til the 24th of December, you may get two books for the price of one. If you send me a copy of your proof of purchase I will personally reimburse you. (stevenme@hotmail.ca) For more books by this author go to www.marilynshistoricalnovels.com

Oh, Mary, What Will Happen to You?

We have been neglecting our sweet, Mary's diary lately, and she has her own troubles. Let's see what they are.

29 Nissan

April 21

Dear Diary;

           With tears in my eyes, I must admit this has been a low time

Angelic Rescue! A True Story

 I've been intrigued with angels, and have often wondered how I would respond if I actually saw one.
   All through the night, the snow must have fallen softly, because this morning there was a luscious layer covering the gray, muted landscape. For some reason, the gentle beauty made me think of hoarfrost on a day when the sky is a bright, clear blue. Surely an angels wings would sparkle like hoar frosty diamonds!

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  No, I have never actually seen an angel in all its glory, but I have a precious memory of when one came to my aid. Our oldest daughter was just a wee tot when this happened. The stairs leading down to the basement of the house we were living in at the time were rotting, so needed to be replaced. They were removed in the evening and the brand new ones would be installed first thing in the morning. That gaping hole made me uneasy.
   During the night I woke up to the pitter patter of little feet. Our baby was looking for our room! I leapt up to go to her, but she had walked past our bedroom and over to the basement doorway. I hurried over and brought her to safety.
      But later that I realized I couldn't have possibly gotten to her on time. She had stepped into mid-air and was being held up by an angel until I could reach her. Oh, Audrey, I wish you could remember this, and tell me what it was like to be held in an angel's arms!
   Now it's your turn.
 If you want to share an angelic experience privately on Hang-Outs let me know. in the comments section/Let's rejoice in each other's experiences of heavenly encounters especially now when it is so close to Christmas..

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