She blinked and turned all her attention to her boy. Jesus was still holding her hand, thank goodness (he had a habit of slipping out of her grasp in public places thanks to his exuberant curiosity). He was using the other hand to point to a few people approaching them on the dock.

Mary breathed a little easier at the sight of her traveling companions. Her delight was for Hannah, her husband Abel, and their young son Lazarus. A cousin of Abel’s followed them with his wife and children.

She glanced over to where Joseph was still speaking to a rich merchant, Omar. They were buying passage on his ship. They had agreed to Omar’s fee, and still there were details he wanted to haggle further about. He was a Jew, too, but that didn’t make a difference. The man was well-traveled and knew how to leverage his prices. The one boon in their favor was that Omar was keen to return to Sepphoris where his family currently lived. This knowledge had prompted Mary to ask Joseph if they should stay in Bethlehem or go directly north.

“The messenger only said it was safe to return now that Herod is dead,” Joseph said in his thoughtful, level-headed way. “Let’s go and see how Samuel and his family are and listen for news about Herod’s heir. Then we can decide.”

Ever since Joseph’s dream, another visit from a heavenly messenger, Mary had prayed and looked for a sign that the turbulence in their lives was finally coming to an end. She’d heard from no other messenger of her own. It seemed God wanted Joseph to manage the responsibility. Maybe He was trying to give her some peace of mind while urging her to put hope in her husband as well as in the Almighty. She never doubted Joseph’s competence and care. Sure, the mix-up about Samuel’s address and their unfair treatment by the innkeeper had caused some embarrassment and inconvenience, but Mary reflected on that memory with fondness as well as bewilderment. Joseph had brought her and Jesus to Egypt, unharmed, and he would bring them home—wherever home ended up being.

Having some extra company bolstered her spirit, too. Hannah reached her first with sweet Lazarus half-asleep in her arms. She and Mary kissed each other’s cheeks. Mary missed her sisters, and Hannah had done a beautiful job acting as a surrogate. Sharing a name with Mary’s mother hadn’t hurt, either. She’d likewise become an aunt to Jesus. That explained why he stared up with his big brown eyes and his mouth bent in an open smile. Of course, he might have been smiling at his friend, who was too sleepy to notice.

“Praise Adonai we didn’t miss the boat,” Hannah said with a sigh. She adjusted her grip on Lazarus and bounced him a little.

“Praise Adonai we waited to pay the rest when we got here,” said Abel as he caught up to his wife. “I just hope Omar isn’t waiting until the last minute to raise his price. Again.”

They watched Omar and Joseph continue to talk. Joseph was growing more animated in his hand movements. Not a good sign.

“Don’t worry,” said Mary. “If Omar thought we couldn’t pay, he would’ve left already.” She didn’t like thinking poorly of people. Then again, there were many wicked people in the world. She and her family had been forced to flee because of one of them. But even a wicked man could get them home if God was protecting them.

Breathe. Do not be afraid.

“Omar isn’t going anywhere without us,” said Abel’s cousin as he sauntered up. His name was Levi. “I already told Abe here that I have the insurance we need to get across the sea.” He grinned like a cat and threw his arm around Abel’s shoulders. “Granted, if he decides you haven’t paid up for everyone here, I can’t promise he won’t throw one of you overboard. But I’ve got my fishing net so you can catch a ride all the same!”

Levi’s laughter earned a wince and a feeble smile from Abel. Hannah focused on bouncing Lazarus so he’d fully fall asleep. Mary forced a smile. “I’m sure God will protect us.”

“Sure,” Levi said, shrugging, “but things go wrong, and where is He when they do? There’s no Moses here to part the Mediterranean, nor a fish to swallow someone like Jonah. We’ll have to make do with what we’ve got.”

This time, Mary couldn’t hold up the smile. Here was another man she wished she could think better of. Levi was handsome and could be pleasant, but too often he spoke with bravado. He acted like he knew everyone’s secrets. One of her earliest memories of knowing him involved him being arrested by the authorities for walking off with a bracelet in the middle of the marketplace. According to him, there was a misunderstanding, and he did end up being released. He smirked when he retold the story. Later, Joseph asked her if they should keep away from Levi. As Abel’s cousin and therefore a member of Hannah’s family, his presence couldn’t be entirely avoided.

Levi had his better moments, even some charm, which was more than could be said of his wife. Anah said nothing with her mouth but much with her eyes. With a cool stare, she surveyed the docks, the group, and even her husband. She was tall, taller than Levi, and had dark features. Their two older children, both boys, took after her. Mary guessed that Anah had a Gentile parent. The mysterious blood-red pendant she wore reminded Mary of similar jewelry she’d seen many Egyptian women wearing. Maybe Anah had been raised pagan or had pagan beliefs mingled with Jewish teachings. Above all, she acted as though everything around her didn’t deserve her approval, nor even her words. Her sharp gaze found Omar, and her displeasure heightened. On that subject, she and Mary were in accord.

Then there were the children. Uzzi was eleven years old, and he already had black hair on his legs and arms as well as on his head. Japheth was thirteen, smooth-faced and thin-haired. He’d probably be bald when grown. They both had strong bodies and could have knocked down a grown man together. In fact, Mary feared that very thing when they came running past their parents for a race or game. Uzzi was chasing Japheth and laughing and hooting as he did. They bumped into several pedestrians, earning barks and cries of chastisement. Mary instinctively pushed Jesus behind her as the boys flew past.

Anah waited until her sons had already shot down the dock before her voice came out like a whip. “Boys!”

Uzzi and Japheth stopped and looked back. The composed, terrible glare brought them back to Anah’s side with fear that made Mary’s skin prickle.

Levi chuckled, ruffled Uzzi’s hair, and patted Japheth’s shoulder. “You better settle down, you beasts. Once we’re on that boat, you’ll be climbing off the walls if you can’t stay calm.”

The boys grumbled and wondered why they had to leave at all, and they murmured like conspirators. Mary worried for them more than feared them. There was still time for a wise teacher to curb their boisterous behavior.

Of all the members of this family, other than Hannah and Lazarus, her heart ached for the one who slipped between her brothers and mother to study the ship.

This was Huldah, about six years old, and the child who most resembled her father with her slender build and brown hair. She, too, was tall for her age. She had some of her mother’s dark brown complexion. Some, because parts of her face, her left arm, and her legs had splotches of pale pink. This discoloration reached the hair at the crest of her forehead and turned it blond. Even her left eye was affected, gray instead of golden brown. Mary had heard that some people suffered from this stark but harmless skin condition. At least it wasn’t leprosy.

Like her mother, Huldah had a cool temperament, but it hadn’t cultivated into snobbery or disdain. Her manner was more contemplative. She had clearly never been on a ship before, and her frown spoke of her doubts about the ship’s integrity. Or of Omar’s integrity.

“Don’t worry, Huldah,” Mary found herself saying. “We’ll be on that ship soon, and we’ll have a safe journey.”

Huldah aimed her frank gaze at her. “How do you know?”

“Well … I don’t know. I trust in Adonai, though, and He has protected us so far.”

“Why? He doesn’t help everybody.”

It was hard not to be startled. Huldah spoke candidly, with enough knowledge of what she either had heard from her parents or seen with her own eyes. Even so, it was hard not to be appalled on God’s behalf.

“He … if we trust Him, He gives us what we need. It’s not easy, and it doesn’t mean there aren’t hardships, but He sees us through them.”

“Mama said most of her family died in a flood.  Why didn’t Adonai save them?”

Mary swallowed. Tingles ran down her arms. Her hand found Jesus’s head. Of course, Jesus had long ago stepped out of her protective shadow. He was staring at Huldah.

The girl’s words stirred a hunger inside Mary that urged her to hoist up Jesus into her arms and never let him go, let nothing in the world touch him. Huldah’s question echoed the one in her heart when she’d learned about the massacre of all those children in Bethlehem. Why? Why?

“We live in a world that has gone wrong,” spoke up Hannah. She was pressing Lazarus’s head against her shoulder. She swung her body slowly. Other than that, she sounded calmer than Mary felt. “Evil things happen. But Adonai is wise and good. If we don’t understand why something happened, we trust that He will make good out of it.”

“Were they bad people? Was Adonai punishing them for something?”

Hannah cringed and looked at Mary. Mary opened her mouth despite having no quick answer. How could they know?

“That’s enough, Huldah,” said Anah. “Don’t torment them with your questions. If we meet a rabbi on the ship, you can ask him.”

Mary nodded at Huldah and gladly let Anah shepherd the girl back to her brothers.

Abel came close to Hannah and Mary. “I was worried she’d start quoting from Job.”

The women laughed abruptly, then quieted themselves.

Just a moment later, Levi took it on himself to go over to Joseph and speak to Omar. Within the next five minutes, the issue that had occupied them was resolved. Levi shook Omar’s hand. Joseph, looking like he’d been spun around, shook hands with Omar, too. He and Levi returned to the group. Omar did demand a little more money, but Levi agreed to pay it, provided that Abel and Joseph signed a note of debt that Levi could collect at his leisure. This put Mary on edge; Joseph urged her not to worry. The amount was small enough that he could earn it in the next few months.

Mary silently wondered if they should try to sell the bottle of myrrh she had stashed among her belongings. She and Joseph had agreed to keep it after they sold the frankincense and used the gold to buy passage to Egypt the first time. They’d saved enough for this voyage without losing the myrrh. Maybe they ought to. After all, they would still have the memory of those men from the East, even if they surrendered the evidence of the extravagant gifts. At this moment, Mary kept the matter to herself. There would be time to consult with Joseph on the ship.

With all their worldly possessions in just a few sacks, the company boarded and sailed out of Alexandria.

Over the first few hours, with the unveiled sun turning the sea into turquoise glass, Mary stayed above deck in a fanciful hope of seeing her homeland. It would be more than a week before they landed at Joppa. That didn’t stop her from squinting into the hazy distance. The coast would remain visible to the starboard side the whole way, and Omar would make stops at a couple key ports. These facts fed into her illusion that, if she had the nerve to climb the mast, she could spot Judea’s shores when they were still five days out.

And what good would that do me? She chuckled dryly to herself. Seeing it will not bring us there sooner.

She swallowed and tried to relax while also watching Jesus as he wandered around the deck. Joseph had been sitting with her, but he started to feel a little ill—he didn’t like sea travel—and went into the lower galley to rest. Jesus, on the other hand, was elated by the new experience. He’d been too young to remember his first boat ride. He thumped around, followed any sailor who didn’t immediately shoo him away (and that didn’t always deter him), and admired even the cracks between the boards to find whatever treasures a little child might deem worthy of his interest. Mary also noticed Huldah sitting on the deck right by the port railing with her mother. They were working on making bracelets and necklaces. Now and then, Uzzi or Japheth came bounding up the steps from the lower deck. Japheth lingered and even chased Jesus around for a bit while his brother grew bored and returned to the hold. When he was done teasing Jesus, Japheth struck up conversation with a couple sailors to learn more about the trade.

Hannah eventually came up with a slumbering, slobbering Lazarus. She settled next to Mary and spoke softly. Mary scooted closer and leaned in to hear her.

“How do you feel about this?”

Mary smiled shyly. “I was thinking of asking you the same thing. You’ve not seen Judea for even longer than we have.”

Hannah sighed and nodded. “But maybe, in a way, that makes it easier for me. I’m not sure what to expect. I haven’t lived there since I was a girl. Now that Abel and I have started a family, the timing feels right, even with all the uncertainties ahead of us. For you, though—what you told us about Herod, what he did in Bethlehem—and to now go home and not know how your family has fared during this time … it’s all right to feel afraid, you know. As much as I know you hate to show it, you’re allowed to be overwhelmed now and then. And to let others comfort you for a change.”

“I have Joseph to comfort me!”

“Yes, and a very privileged role that is.”

Mary laughed. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be so … what’s the word? Reticent?”

“Actually,” Hannah said, “I think you’re very strong. But sometimes, in trying to be strong, we don’t let others take care of us the way we need to be.”

Mary hadn’t thought that could ever be a problem for her, not with Joseph for a husband. But, looking back, she could see how she had always tried to be the attentive, responsible daughter when her sisters would buckle or rebel under the yoke. That could mean being left with more work to do than was fair or even feasible. She’d refused to complain—God could see her struggles and give her strength. But Hannah was right. Adonai made mankind for companionship and dependence on one another. The Jewish people knew that better than anyone. This certainly applied to Jews in the diaspora, as Mary witnessed recently. Hannah had come to Egypt with her family to evade some of the pressure of Roman occupation, even while Egypt was a Roman province. They still had their struggles, and they relied on one another to endure.

Both she and Abel had kin in Galilee, hence why they were traveling with Mary and her family. Abel had received word of his family’s successful mining business in that region and had decided to return to the land of their forefathers.

“I’ve been thinking about how hard it might be,” Hannah said, “to live in a land I have dim memories of, and to get to know Abel’s relations while trying to reconnect with my own. Maybe we will wish we stayed in Egypt. But my family came to Egypt in fear of the occupation and the violence that comes from it. I don’t want to keep living in fear. I would like to look forward to something, instead.”

“I understand,” said Mary. She couldn’t push herself to say more. There was so much in her life that she couldn’t explain to Hannah, or anyone other than Joseph, without opening the door to uncomfortable questions. In her mind, her own questions gushed, and they centered on her son. Yes, it would be hard for her and Joseph, too, getting resettled. That mattered far less than knowing if they were doing all they could to raise Jesus the right way. What other dangers might threaten him? Would she always know a threat when she saw it?

Only Adonai knows all. I must trust Him.  

Hannah continued, “I also often think about the kind of questions that Huldah asked. ‘The Lord gives, and the Lord takes away.’ It’s easier to accept that when tragedies happen to other people. Having a child now … it terrifies me all that could happen.”

Her eyes grew dewy as she looked at Lazarus. She kissed his head.

Mary’s eyes dampened, too. She touched Hannah’s hand, the one cradling Lazarus’s back. “I’ll pray for you and your family every day. God doesn’t shield us from everything, but I know He listens to prayers.”

“Thank you.” Hannah’s strained smile soon softened. “I’ll pray for you, too.”

“Well, please pray that I gain motherly wisdom so I know what I’m doing.”

“Pray that for me! At least you’re a few years along into motherhood. I’ve only just started.”

Mary laughed, then peered around the deck to find Jesus. He was perched on the port-side railing. Somehow, he’d pulled himself up high enough that his feet weren’t touching the floorboards. She could barely see the back of his head. He was tipping so far forward.

All humor and calm fled. She jumped to her feet. “Jesus!”

She ran. Oh, Lord, Lord, don’t let him fall! Don’t—

A girl cut in front of Mary before she was anywhere near the railing. She threw herself almost on top of Jesus and hauled him backward. They landed on the floor with him on top, eyes wide and skyward. Mary stumbled to avoid tripping on Huldah’s head. Her hesitation gave the girl enough time to sit up, still holding Jesus. He gawked at her with an upside-down view.

“Jesus!” Mary dropped next to them. “What were you doing? What were you thinking?” The words spilled out of her. She wasn’t thinking, either, only swimming through every fear that had been waiting to taunt her for a moment such as this.

Jesus heard his mother’s voice, her panic, and broke into tears. Mary checked his head, arms, legs. No injuries. Huldah’s body had cushioned his fall. If anything, she should have checked that Huldah hadn’t knocked her head on the floor.

Anah came over to attend to that, less panicked but with the same total concern for Huldah as Mary had for Jesus. They took their respective children into their arms.

“I’m fine,” Huldah said. She turned to Mary. “Is he hurt?”

Fighting through the thunder in her chest and the anxiety trying to choke her, Mary took stock. Jesus was fine. He was crying from her fear rather than his own. “H-he’s okay. Thank you. Are you hurt?”

Huldah shook her head, then wiggled her shoulders in discomfort. She probably had bruised her back a little. Anah whisked her away to give her a more thorough examination. Mary watched them hurry to the lower deck, and her heart once again felt like a block of granite. For a few seconds, she wanted to drop her whole body into the ocean. How could she be so careless and let not only her own child but someone else’s suffer?

No words of comfort, neither Hannah’s nor Joseph’s, could help her slough this weight. She kept Jesus with her below deck, even after he recovered and grew fussy with restlessness. Eventually, she relented into walking him around the ship, but always while holding his hand. The rest of the afternoon passed like this until, just as she headed back to where Joseph had set up their beds, Mary saw Uzzi loping down the ship corridor.

“Is your sister all right?”

“Huh? Oh, yes, Huldah’s fine. Was this the fellow who knocked her down?” Uzzi grinned at Jesus like he wanted to eat him. Jesus whined and hid his face against Mary’s hip.

“I’d like to speak to her.”

Uzzi directed her to where their family had set up their own beds and belongings. Mary stepped around the other passengers and the barrels and crates of cargo to find the nook Levi and his family occupied. Levi and Huldah were the only two there. He was speaking to her in a low voice with a lilt that suggested he was in the middle of a story. Mary didn’t get close enough to hear his words; he noticed her and stopped. He helped Huldah stand with him.

“Well! Quite a bit of excitement, and only the first day! How is your little man?”

“He isn’t hurt. It was my fault. Huldah, I’m sorry that you felt you had to intervene. I should have been more attentive. Thank you again.”

Huldah shrugged.

“Come now, my lily!” said Levi. “You’re the hero of the hour! Enjoy it.”

Was he hoping Mary would offer a reward for Huldah’s good deed? She decided to smile about it. Whatever his flaws, Levi didn’t hide his pride for his children.

Mary crouched and gestured for Huldah to come closer. It was the first time since the near accident that she dared to let go of Jesus’s hand. He didn’t go anywhere. He watched Huldah as she approached. Huldah looked like she wanted to jump into the sea herself rather than hear further gratitude.

“I just want to say,” said Mary, “that you reminded me of something very important. You’re right: we don’t know if bad things might happen to us, whether it’s deserved or not. But we hope for God’s will, and we act when He tells us to. Thank you for being God’s hand today.”

Huldah frowned, full of doubt. Mary smiled and offered her hands. Despite her reticence, Huldah placed her own in Mary’s gentle grasp. Two quick kisses on each, and Mary let her go so she could rush to her father’s side.

“I won’t add this to the debt,” Levi said with a half-smile.