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As the boys climbed the steps, Hazael unconsciously moved closer to his brother in order to avoid being swept up in the sea of people that were beginning to flood into the temple. The nineteen-year-old wanted to avoid this if he could as his poor eyesight practically guaranteed that if he got separated from the rest of his family, he would not be able to find them before the services started. If that happened, well, he would be a dead man as soon as the festival ended as Avriam would not take kindly to his son disappearing during what was the most important event of the year. He would need more than just Yahweh’s mercy in order to make it through that.
Maybe this wouldn’t have been such an issue if he had been allowed to bring Bracha with him. Haz wouldn’t be so nervous about getting lost or falling behind if he had the Saluki by his side. She would be able to keep the young man on track. However, dogs weren’t allowed in the temple or in the tents and Hazael wasn’t going to take the chance of leaving her tied up outside when the entirety of Judea was gathered into this one building. He had already risked losing Bracha once and the emotional scar of needing to rely on a stranger had been strong enough to eliminate the chance of that never happening again -- nevermind the fact that Avriam hated his dogs. That had been a major obstacle too.
Due mostly to his poor eyesight, Hazael had missed Thaddeus waving at him as everyone climbed the steps. Even though the boy was rather adept at separating the smudged color blobs that made up his vision in most cases, it was hopeless in such a crowded area where everyone was some pale amalgamation of skin and simple cloth. It was just an endless blur to the boy and in some cases, it was difficult for him to see where one person ended and another began. Though that did not mean that his hearing suffered in the same ways and Hazael was easily able to discern some rumors that implied that even the blind boy should be able to make out the members of the Jaffe Manheeg as they were not getting much sunlight these days. He did perk up a bit when he heard Amiti mentioned though as Hazael not only recognized him as the man who had rescued him from the Egyptian thieves all those years ago, but also as the man who was supposed to be marrying Maeri as far as Hazael knew. However, he didn’t hadn’t crossed paths with the man since that day in the market, so Hazael didn’t really pay much heed to these rumors. Not only were they just not his business to discuss, but this was also the moment that Jorah responded to his brother.
Hazael turned to the younger boy just in time for Jorah to worry about whether or not Yahweh would be kind to them in the upcoming year. The elder boy was quick to put a reassuring arm over his brother’s shoulder as he said with the slightest hint of a smile, “Jorah, you shouldn’t be worried. You’ve probably spent enough time in the temple to save the rest of us.” The banter was light and Hazael hoped that it would set his brother at ease as the boys neared the front doors. That was also how he hoped the arm slung over Jorah’s shoulder was interpreted as well and that Jorah wouldn’t see through Hazael and realize that this was the elder boy’s thinly veiled attempt to ensure that he wasn’t lost as the crowd converged on the temple and were squeezed through the bottleneck opening.
Once they were through. Hazael was quick to remove his arm, though it wasn’t because he was no longer worried that he would be separated from his brother. No, instead as the boys found their places in the congregation, not too far away from the Jaffe boys who seemed to be at the heart of the rumors that were swirling, Hazael pulled away from Jorah as his blood ran cold from the younger boy’s question. Though calling what the boy said as a question seemed to undermine the gravity of Jorah’s words. It felt more like an accusation in this sacred, holy place. How else was he supposed to interpret the inquiry on whether Hazael was squirreling money away with the ultimate goal of leaving? His eyes widened as he regarded his brother, unsure if he could even answer without it being taken as an offense to Yahweh.
It didn’t matter that it wasn’t true. He was not saving any of the money, save for the smallest stash hidden in the kennel. However, these few coins were not meant to be some escape fund as Jorah seemed to think it was. No, instead it was just something he held onto in case of emergencies that affected the dogs. He didn’t keep any of the money if he could help it. Not only did it feel morally wrong to hoard gold to that extent, but also he didn’t want to risk his father learning that Hazael could walk away with a decent amount of coins in his pocket after selling a dog. Hazael didn’t want the money he earned to be put into the causes that Tiras supported. So, in that sense, he had nothing to fear.
However, that didn’t even touch upon how Jorah even knew about the money in the first place. That was articulated quite clearly when Hazael softly hissed at the boy, “What on earth are you talking about?” Even though he was attempting to feign ignorance on what Jorah could be referring to; the fact that Hazael knew was so plain to see on his face. This was a culture that severely frowned upon lying and given that Hazael couldn’t see the finer details of facial expressions anymore, he was a terrible liar. Even when his words were not a lie, it was clear enough to see that Hazael knew what the boy was talking about.
There was no way that Hazael was going to outwardly say this though, so instead, he awkwardly danced around the topic. “And besides, why would I keep anything for myself during Hoshana Rabbah? Such a selfish action would be spitting in the face of Yahweh.” The boy said matter of factly, hoping that his answer centering on their god would satisfy his brother. This just wasn’t something that the nineteen-year-old wanted to speak about during a religious holiday while surrounded by not only members of their family, but members of the Manheegs as well.
Hazael hoped that his final question would pull the boy off of this topic as he knew that Jorah would be eager to speak about the facets of their religion given that the boy was not subtle in his desire to dedicate his life to the temple. “Jorah, remind me. What will happen during the ceremony?” It was such a rudimentary question to ask, but he hoped that his brother would think that Hazael was enough of a fool that he wouldn’t dig too deeply into it or that he would be so excited to talk about Hoshana Rabbah that he wouldn’t notice that Hazael was attempting to change the subject.
But would his brother fall for such a ruse?
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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As the boys climbed the steps, Hazael unconsciously moved closer to his brother in order to avoid being swept up in the sea of people that were beginning to flood into the temple. The nineteen-year-old wanted to avoid this if he could as his poor eyesight practically guaranteed that if he got separated from the rest of his family, he would not be able to find them before the services started. If that happened, well, he would be a dead man as soon as the festival ended as Avriam would not take kindly to his son disappearing during what was the most important event of the year. He would need more than just Yahweh’s mercy in order to make it through that.
Maybe this wouldn’t have been such an issue if he had been allowed to bring Bracha with him. Haz wouldn’t be so nervous about getting lost or falling behind if he had the Saluki by his side. She would be able to keep the young man on track. However, dogs weren’t allowed in the temple or in the tents and Hazael wasn’t going to take the chance of leaving her tied up outside when the entirety of Judea was gathered into this one building. He had already risked losing Bracha once and the emotional scar of needing to rely on a stranger had been strong enough to eliminate the chance of that never happening again -- nevermind the fact that Avriam hated his dogs. That had been a major obstacle too.
Due mostly to his poor eyesight, Hazael had missed Thaddeus waving at him as everyone climbed the steps. Even though the boy was rather adept at separating the smudged color blobs that made up his vision in most cases, it was hopeless in such a crowded area where everyone was some pale amalgamation of skin and simple cloth. It was just an endless blur to the boy and in some cases, it was difficult for him to see where one person ended and another began. Though that did not mean that his hearing suffered in the same ways and Hazael was easily able to discern some rumors that implied that even the blind boy should be able to make out the members of the Jaffe Manheeg as they were not getting much sunlight these days. He did perk up a bit when he heard Amiti mentioned though as Hazael not only recognized him as the man who had rescued him from the Egyptian thieves all those years ago, but also as the man who was supposed to be marrying Maeri as far as Hazael knew. However, he didn’t hadn’t crossed paths with the man since that day in the market, so Hazael didn’t really pay much heed to these rumors. Not only were they just not his business to discuss, but this was also the moment that Jorah responded to his brother.
Hazael turned to the younger boy just in time for Jorah to worry about whether or not Yahweh would be kind to them in the upcoming year. The elder boy was quick to put a reassuring arm over his brother’s shoulder as he said with the slightest hint of a smile, “Jorah, you shouldn’t be worried. You’ve probably spent enough time in the temple to save the rest of us.” The banter was light and Hazael hoped that it would set his brother at ease as the boys neared the front doors. That was also how he hoped the arm slung over Jorah’s shoulder was interpreted as well and that Jorah wouldn’t see through Hazael and realize that this was the elder boy’s thinly veiled attempt to ensure that he wasn’t lost as the crowd converged on the temple and were squeezed through the bottleneck opening.
Once they were through. Hazael was quick to remove his arm, though it wasn’t because he was no longer worried that he would be separated from his brother. No, instead as the boys found their places in the congregation, not too far away from the Jaffe boys who seemed to be at the heart of the rumors that were swirling, Hazael pulled away from Jorah as his blood ran cold from the younger boy’s question. Though calling what the boy said as a question seemed to undermine the gravity of Jorah’s words. It felt more like an accusation in this sacred, holy place. How else was he supposed to interpret the inquiry on whether Hazael was squirreling money away with the ultimate goal of leaving? His eyes widened as he regarded his brother, unsure if he could even answer without it being taken as an offense to Yahweh.
It didn’t matter that it wasn’t true. He was not saving any of the money, save for the smallest stash hidden in the kennel. However, these few coins were not meant to be some escape fund as Jorah seemed to think it was. No, instead it was just something he held onto in case of emergencies that affected the dogs. He didn’t keep any of the money if he could help it. Not only did it feel morally wrong to hoard gold to that extent, but also he didn’t want to risk his father learning that Hazael could walk away with a decent amount of coins in his pocket after selling a dog. Hazael didn’t want the money he earned to be put into the causes that Tiras supported. So, in that sense, he had nothing to fear.
However, that didn’t even touch upon how Jorah even knew about the money in the first place. That was articulated quite clearly when Hazael softly hissed at the boy, “What on earth are you talking about?” Even though he was attempting to feign ignorance on what Jorah could be referring to; the fact that Hazael knew was so plain to see on his face. This was a culture that severely frowned upon lying and given that Hazael couldn’t see the finer details of facial expressions anymore, he was a terrible liar. Even when his words were not a lie, it was clear enough to see that Hazael knew what the boy was talking about.
There was no way that Hazael was going to outwardly say this though, so instead, he awkwardly danced around the topic. “And besides, why would I keep anything for myself during Hoshana Rabbah? Such a selfish action would be spitting in the face of Yahweh.” The boy said matter of factly, hoping that his answer centering on their god would satisfy his brother. This just wasn’t something that the nineteen-year-old wanted to speak about during a religious holiday while surrounded by not only members of their family, but members of the Manheegs as well.
Hazael hoped that his final question would pull the boy off of this topic as he knew that Jorah would be eager to speak about the facets of their religion given that the boy was not subtle in his desire to dedicate his life to the temple. “Jorah, remind me. What will happen during the ceremony?” It was such a rudimentary question to ask, but he hoped that his brother would think that Hazael was enough of a fool that he wouldn’t dig too deeply into it or that he would be so excited to talk about Hoshana Rabbah that he wouldn’t notice that Hazael was attempting to change the subject.
But would his brother fall for such a ruse?
As the boys climbed the steps, Hazael unconsciously moved closer to his brother in order to avoid being swept up in the sea of people that were beginning to flood into the temple. The nineteen-year-old wanted to avoid this if he could as his poor eyesight practically guaranteed that if he got separated from the rest of his family, he would not be able to find them before the services started. If that happened, well, he would be a dead man as soon as the festival ended as Avriam would not take kindly to his son disappearing during what was the most important event of the year. He would need more than just Yahweh’s mercy in order to make it through that.
Maybe this wouldn’t have been such an issue if he had been allowed to bring Bracha with him. Haz wouldn’t be so nervous about getting lost or falling behind if he had the Saluki by his side. She would be able to keep the young man on track. However, dogs weren’t allowed in the temple or in the tents and Hazael wasn’t going to take the chance of leaving her tied up outside when the entirety of Judea was gathered into this one building. He had already risked losing Bracha once and the emotional scar of needing to rely on a stranger had been strong enough to eliminate the chance of that never happening again -- nevermind the fact that Avriam hated his dogs. That had been a major obstacle too.
Due mostly to his poor eyesight, Hazael had missed Thaddeus waving at him as everyone climbed the steps. Even though the boy was rather adept at separating the smudged color blobs that made up his vision in most cases, it was hopeless in such a crowded area where everyone was some pale amalgamation of skin and simple cloth. It was just an endless blur to the boy and in some cases, it was difficult for him to see where one person ended and another began. Though that did not mean that his hearing suffered in the same ways and Hazael was easily able to discern some rumors that implied that even the blind boy should be able to make out the members of the Jaffe Manheeg as they were not getting much sunlight these days. He did perk up a bit when he heard Amiti mentioned though as Hazael not only recognized him as the man who had rescued him from the Egyptian thieves all those years ago, but also as the man who was supposed to be marrying Maeri as far as Hazael knew. However, he didn’t hadn’t crossed paths with the man since that day in the market, so Hazael didn’t really pay much heed to these rumors. Not only were they just not his business to discuss, but this was also the moment that Jorah responded to his brother.
Hazael turned to the younger boy just in time for Jorah to worry about whether or not Yahweh would be kind to them in the upcoming year. The elder boy was quick to put a reassuring arm over his brother’s shoulder as he said with the slightest hint of a smile, “Jorah, you shouldn’t be worried. You’ve probably spent enough time in the temple to save the rest of us.” The banter was light and Hazael hoped that it would set his brother at ease as the boys neared the front doors. That was also how he hoped the arm slung over Jorah’s shoulder was interpreted as well and that Jorah wouldn’t see through Hazael and realize that this was the elder boy’s thinly veiled attempt to ensure that he wasn’t lost as the crowd converged on the temple and were squeezed through the bottleneck opening.
Once they were through. Hazael was quick to remove his arm, though it wasn’t because he was no longer worried that he would be separated from his brother. No, instead as the boys found their places in the congregation, not too far away from the Jaffe boys who seemed to be at the heart of the rumors that were swirling, Hazael pulled away from Jorah as his blood ran cold from the younger boy’s question. Though calling what the boy said as a question seemed to undermine the gravity of Jorah’s words. It felt more like an accusation in this sacred, holy place. How else was he supposed to interpret the inquiry on whether Hazael was squirreling money away with the ultimate goal of leaving? His eyes widened as he regarded his brother, unsure if he could even answer without it being taken as an offense to Yahweh.
It didn’t matter that it wasn’t true. He was not saving any of the money, save for the smallest stash hidden in the kennel. However, these few coins were not meant to be some escape fund as Jorah seemed to think it was. No, instead it was just something he held onto in case of emergencies that affected the dogs. He didn’t keep any of the money if he could help it. Not only did it feel morally wrong to hoard gold to that extent, but also he didn’t want to risk his father learning that Hazael could walk away with a decent amount of coins in his pocket after selling a dog. Hazael didn’t want the money he earned to be put into the causes that Tiras supported. So, in that sense, he had nothing to fear.
However, that didn’t even touch upon how Jorah even knew about the money in the first place. That was articulated quite clearly when Hazael softly hissed at the boy, “What on earth are you talking about?” Even though he was attempting to feign ignorance on what Jorah could be referring to; the fact that Hazael knew was so plain to see on his face. This was a culture that severely frowned upon lying and given that Hazael couldn’t see the finer details of facial expressions anymore, he was a terrible liar. Even when his words were not a lie, it was clear enough to see that Hazael knew what the boy was talking about.
There was no way that Hazael was going to outwardly say this though, so instead, he awkwardly danced around the topic. “And besides, why would I keep anything for myself during Hoshana Rabbah? Such a selfish action would be spitting in the face of Yahweh.” The boy said matter of factly, hoping that his answer centering on their god would satisfy his brother. This just wasn’t something that the nineteen-year-old wanted to speak about during a religious holiday while surrounded by not only members of their family, but members of the Manheegs as well.
Hazael hoped that his final question would pull the boy off of this topic as he knew that Jorah would be eager to speak about the facets of their religion given that the boy was not subtle in his desire to dedicate his life to the temple. “Jorah, remind me. What will happen during the ceremony?” It was such a rudimentary question to ask, but he hoped that his brother would think that Hazael was enough of a fool that he wouldn’t dig too deeply into it or that he would be so excited to talk about Hoshana Rabbah that he wouldn’t notice that Hazael was attempting to change the subject.
But would his brother fall for such a ruse?
Curveball May Your Future Be Bright
The gong and bells of summons can be heard as everyone in their concentric circles fall silent and start to pray within their minds. The chief rabbi of Jerusalem stands upon a podium at their centre. His voice calls out low and in a mixture of hebrew and yiddish, the responses from the crowd familiar chants of respect at the end of each of his sentences...
When the prayers and chanting are over, the servants of the temple offer out strips of cloth. Only a few inches in length and no wider than a thumb, each piece is given with a stick of roasted incense. As the cloth pieces and sticks are passed around the first circle, the hopes and prayers - one for each person - are written on the cloth and the incense passed on to the next. It is a long process that occurs whilst others continue to chant and pray. With the completion of each circle, the implements are passed backwards. Once all have completed their wishes for the new year, the strips are passed forwards and collected into small copper bowls by servants of the temple...
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The gong and bells of summons can be heard as everyone in their concentric circles fall silent and start to pray within their minds. The chief rabbi of Jerusalem stands upon a podium at their centre. His voice calls out low and in a mixture of hebrew and yiddish, the responses from the crowd familiar chants of respect at the end of each of his sentences...
When the prayers and chanting are over, the servants of the temple offer out strips of cloth. Only a few inches in length and no wider than a thumb, each piece is given with a stick of roasted incense. As the cloth pieces and sticks are passed around the first circle, the hopes and prayers - one for each person - are written on the cloth and the incense passed on to the next. It is a long process that occurs whilst others continue to chant and pray. With the completion of each circle, the implements are passed backwards. Once all have completed their wishes for the new year, the strips are passed forwards and collected into small copper bowls by servants of the temple...
Curveball May Your Future Be Bright
The gong and bells of summons can be heard as everyone in their concentric circles fall silent and start to pray within their minds. The chief rabbi of Jerusalem stands upon a podium at their centre. His voice calls out low and in a mixture of hebrew and yiddish, the responses from the crowd familiar chants of respect at the end of each of his sentences...
When the prayers and chanting are over, the servants of the temple offer out strips of cloth. Only a few inches in length and no wider than a thumb, each piece is given with a stick of roasted incense. As the cloth pieces and sticks are passed around the first circle, the hopes and prayers - one for each person - are written on the cloth and the incense passed on to the next. It is a long process that occurs whilst others continue to chant and pray. With the completion of each circle, the implements are passed backwards. Once all have completed their wishes for the new year, the strips are passed forwards and collected into small copper bowls by servants of the temple...
It felt odd, as if the woman remembered her, but Gwyneth's memory held no recollection of the slender lady clearer taller then her in height, but of a far different upbringing. When she mentioned years, Gwyneth's frown only deepened, but failed at connecting face to any special event. Her days were a blur, even more so after her sister's death. Forefront in Gwyneth's mind was the day Ayala had been executed, and anything that had happened before that she barely remembered.
So Gwyneth could only wear an apologetic and slightly perplexed glance as she returned the curtsy with one of her own, before nodding in return. They would not all go in the temples of course, but the people gathered all quickly shuffled to get into the circles forming in order to be in place before the chief rabbi would get into position.
With her small stature, Gwyneth was easily jostled as she tried to get into position, and could not even grab ahold of something to keep her balance, as she tried to maintain her hold on the estrog and lulav she held. While it may seem to only be a brief few minutes, it felt like a suffocatingly long time before the knot of humans finally found their momentum, and Gwyneth finally could fall into place in one of the circles forming, as the gogs and bells began to sound in the distance.
Exchanging another smile with the soft spoken lady who had claimed to know her from years ago, Gwyneth's own smile was slightly hesitant but still friendly, as she clasped her own hands and allowed the low chant of hebrew and yiddish by the chief rabbi to wash over her, a familiar sensation of welcoming the new year. For Gwyneth, she simply wished for a smooth passage in seeking righteous revenge for her sister, and for her father's health to perhaps improve, even if she knew the latter was a futile hope. In her heart of hearts, Gwyneth knew Valence of Noam was running on borrowed time, and she would be lucky if she could usher in the next year with him still around.
When the prayers ended, Gwyneth waited for her turn with the strip of cloth, finishing her own wishes before handing them over to the woman she stood next to along with the roasted inecnese, smiling softly as she did so before resuming her chanting whilst she waited for it to finish. It was a familiar process, almost like a reset for Gwyneth to remind her that the end of one year's cycle had come to pass, and it was now the start of another. Funny, how she had been in the exact same position with Ayala just a few years ago, but now and possibly in many years for the future, Gwyneth would likely be attending the prayers herself.
When the final prayer was given after the mass of people circled the podium seven times as was custom and the last gong reverberated across the lands, Gwyneth bowed her head one last time in thanks to Yahweh, waving the etrog and lulav in all four directions to thank Yahweh for making the crops and harvest grow, before holding them against her chest again as she would bring it home to replace the ones from the previous year in the hall of her family home.
She should be returning to the sukkah she had with her employers now, to ensure the meal was ready for them once they returned. Yet Gwyneth couldn't help but turn to the mysterious lady she had just met with another smile, one that was more grateful then the confused one she had worn earlier. "Thank you for your companionship today. I would have ushered in the new year alone, had it not been for you."
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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It felt odd, as if the woman remembered her, but Gwyneth's memory held no recollection of the slender lady clearer taller then her in height, but of a far different upbringing. When she mentioned years, Gwyneth's frown only deepened, but failed at connecting face to any special event. Her days were a blur, even more so after her sister's death. Forefront in Gwyneth's mind was the day Ayala had been executed, and anything that had happened before that she barely remembered.
So Gwyneth could only wear an apologetic and slightly perplexed glance as she returned the curtsy with one of her own, before nodding in return. They would not all go in the temples of course, but the people gathered all quickly shuffled to get into the circles forming in order to be in place before the chief rabbi would get into position.
With her small stature, Gwyneth was easily jostled as she tried to get into position, and could not even grab ahold of something to keep her balance, as she tried to maintain her hold on the estrog and lulav she held. While it may seem to only be a brief few minutes, it felt like a suffocatingly long time before the knot of humans finally found their momentum, and Gwyneth finally could fall into place in one of the circles forming, as the gogs and bells began to sound in the distance.
Exchanging another smile with the soft spoken lady who had claimed to know her from years ago, Gwyneth's own smile was slightly hesitant but still friendly, as she clasped her own hands and allowed the low chant of hebrew and yiddish by the chief rabbi to wash over her, a familiar sensation of welcoming the new year. For Gwyneth, she simply wished for a smooth passage in seeking righteous revenge for her sister, and for her father's health to perhaps improve, even if she knew the latter was a futile hope. In her heart of hearts, Gwyneth knew Valence of Noam was running on borrowed time, and she would be lucky if she could usher in the next year with him still around.
When the prayers ended, Gwyneth waited for her turn with the strip of cloth, finishing her own wishes before handing them over to the woman she stood next to along with the roasted inecnese, smiling softly as she did so before resuming her chanting whilst she waited for it to finish. It was a familiar process, almost like a reset for Gwyneth to remind her that the end of one year's cycle had come to pass, and it was now the start of another. Funny, how she had been in the exact same position with Ayala just a few years ago, but now and possibly in many years for the future, Gwyneth would likely be attending the prayers herself.
When the final prayer was given after the mass of people circled the podium seven times as was custom and the last gong reverberated across the lands, Gwyneth bowed her head one last time in thanks to Yahweh, waving the etrog and lulav in all four directions to thank Yahweh for making the crops and harvest grow, before holding them against her chest again as she would bring it home to replace the ones from the previous year in the hall of her family home.
She should be returning to the sukkah she had with her employers now, to ensure the meal was ready for them once they returned. Yet Gwyneth couldn't help but turn to the mysterious lady she had just met with another smile, one that was more grateful then the confused one she had worn earlier. "Thank you for your companionship today. I would have ushered in the new year alone, had it not been for you."
It felt odd, as if the woman remembered her, but Gwyneth's memory held no recollection of the slender lady clearer taller then her in height, but of a far different upbringing. When she mentioned years, Gwyneth's frown only deepened, but failed at connecting face to any special event. Her days were a blur, even more so after her sister's death. Forefront in Gwyneth's mind was the day Ayala had been executed, and anything that had happened before that she barely remembered.
So Gwyneth could only wear an apologetic and slightly perplexed glance as she returned the curtsy with one of her own, before nodding in return. They would not all go in the temples of course, but the people gathered all quickly shuffled to get into the circles forming in order to be in place before the chief rabbi would get into position.
With her small stature, Gwyneth was easily jostled as she tried to get into position, and could not even grab ahold of something to keep her balance, as she tried to maintain her hold on the estrog and lulav she held. While it may seem to only be a brief few minutes, it felt like a suffocatingly long time before the knot of humans finally found their momentum, and Gwyneth finally could fall into place in one of the circles forming, as the gogs and bells began to sound in the distance.
Exchanging another smile with the soft spoken lady who had claimed to know her from years ago, Gwyneth's own smile was slightly hesitant but still friendly, as she clasped her own hands and allowed the low chant of hebrew and yiddish by the chief rabbi to wash over her, a familiar sensation of welcoming the new year. For Gwyneth, she simply wished for a smooth passage in seeking righteous revenge for her sister, and for her father's health to perhaps improve, even if she knew the latter was a futile hope. In her heart of hearts, Gwyneth knew Valence of Noam was running on borrowed time, and she would be lucky if she could usher in the next year with him still around.
When the prayers ended, Gwyneth waited for her turn with the strip of cloth, finishing her own wishes before handing them over to the woman she stood next to along with the roasted inecnese, smiling softly as she did so before resuming her chanting whilst she waited for it to finish. It was a familiar process, almost like a reset for Gwyneth to remind her that the end of one year's cycle had come to pass, and it was now the start of another. Funny, how she had been in the exact same position with Ayala just a few years ago, but now and possibly in many years for the future, Gwyneth would likely be attending the prayers herself.
When the final prayer was given after the mass of people circled the podium seven times as was custom and the last gong reverberated across the lands, Gwyneth bowed her head one last time in thanks to Yahweh, waving the etrog and lulav in all four directions to thank Yahweh for making the crops and harvest grow, before holding them against her chest again as she would bring it home to replace the ones from the previous year in the hall of her family home.
She should be returning to the sukkah she had with her employers now, to ensure the meal was ready for them once they returned. Yet Gwyneth couldn't help but turn to the mysterious lady she had just met with another smile, one that was more grateful then the confused one she had worn earlier. "Thank you for your companionship today. I would have ushered in the new year alone, had it not been for you."
As the people of Jerusalem jostled to find their own places within the circles that represented their community as a whole, Hannah found such actions a beautiful sort of fluidity. There were the occasional awkward elbows and the treads that found other people's toes but, in general, when looked at from the steps of the Holy Sanctuary's side building, she could witness hundreds upon hundreds of souls finding a continuity and unification between one another. Like an ocean of calm that was only disturbed by the occasion white tuft of a curling wave. Such moments of breaking ne'er detracted from the all-encompassing serenity of the sea as its whole.
There was something immense... something that was almost imperceivable to Hannah as she witnessed the crowds and how they fell into place as a community. It was a collective that she so desperately wished to be a part of and had only just started to feel like an equal droplet within the ocean when it had all been blown away from her. With the loss of her husband, melted the chance of true connection to these people. And yet she was more Judean in her heart now than Greek and so belonged to neither party. She could not claim true union with the souls that were born and lost within their world of human connection. She was not a part of their community. Not truly. Yet she was no Greek. She was a satellite of unbelonging that could ne'er step forward and ne'er fall back. Held by the tenuous belief that one day Isaiah would return and rebuild the bridge that might allow her to be a part of this community. Were she to give up, to return to Taengea and reinvent her life all over again, she might have been able to find that sense of foundation. But she could not give up on the life she now held until her heart was truly lost. A loss that she would never admit to herself until she had seen her husband's passing with her own eyes.
Distracted by the bugles and by the movement of the woman next to her, Hannah moved to follow the young lady that had helped her so many years ago in Damascus. The Judean led the way and Hannah fell into step behind her. No longer able to offer the lulav and etrog when the people of the city were to be still and quiet, she was left to her own devices as a member of the faithful instead of an owned slave, and her choice in that small moment of liberty was to follow the lady she knew to be compassionate of heart into pattern of circles.
Finding themselves somewhere in the third concentric circle - for it mattered not in this particular festival where they were stood based on rank or social place - the jostling and awkwardness of human bodies was felt by the both of them. Where Gwyneth struggled to find her centre of gravity, the items of pastoral prayer in her hands halting any chance of correcting her balance - Hannah was pushed and shoved as if she were invisible, a slave of poor clothing and covered face that was holding into perhaps the most damaged of the holy plants as she had offered out the best to all others. She was nudged and shifted and with her own frail frame, she was easily knocked from one foot to the other.
It was only as the prayers began and everyone found their own place and still, that Hannah was able to plant her feet, shoot a soft look of concern towards the woman beside her and lower her head in faithful homage to the Lord Almighty. For it was He to whom they had come to pray and bless.
As the rabbi chanted, Hannah found her lips moving to form the appropriate words and responses. Her memory of just this ritual was only of one event. One time, so many years ago, in which she had tended to this event with her husband. She had only said these prayers once, had only heard them over and over upon one day. But her memories of that single event were so sharp, so vivid and so integral to her heart that they guided her well. Her voice was soft and leant to the general buzz and powerful call of the people.
When the strips of cloth and pieces of incense were passed around, Hannah remembered how they were to be used. She wrote her own wish in a Hebrew that was formed to perfection - as only those who are newer to the language and work hard to form each letter as it should exist do. She wrote with a care that took longer than others but no-one rushed her. For prayers were private between you and your God and it was of no rights to mortals to hasten that communication. Instead, she was allowed the minutes needed to form the letters and the almost Arabic appearance of the letters and place her wish for a reunion with Isaiah onto paper.
Keeping hold of the little strip and passing on the stick of incense, Hannah held the piece wrapped in the centre of her palm and bent over it with eyes closed and her heart open and begging. She sent her fears and worries and thoughts and hopes up to Heaven in the perhaps vain hope that she had lived a life valid and vital enough to be given this wish in the coming months. For that was the greatest desire of all who cumulated at just such a new year festival. That their dreams might be permitted by Him and come to fruition within the next twelve months.
When it was time to pass the strip of fabric forwards through the circles, Hannah felt almost embarrassed to have her cloth move through other hands in a manner that might be seen. But she was also emboldened that every touch would be the presence of another of the faith. One more accepted than she. Whose very connection to her wish might help to see it come alive.
Clasping her hand empty hands together, her fingers interlaced beneath the over long arms of her simlah, Hannah continue to pray in all the tongues she knew. It was internal, within her mind, but she offered up words of begging and promises of faith and fealty that she had offered on more than one occasion outside of any festival. Her lips formed the responses necessary when the rabbi at the centre of their congregation paused for their next reply and she kept her eyes closed in faith and prayer.
As the bugle became to sound again, slow and low so as not to disturb the prayers still on-going around the central plateia, Hannah glanced up to see that many of the pilgrims around her were breaking from formation and moving away from the festivities. There were already the smells of meat and vegetables and the calls of vendors to be sensed down the streets that expanded out from the Holy Sanctuary. Now that the religious side of the affairs had been seen to, the economy of the Judean people was ready to flourish in a crowd so large.
Some of the communion remained in the open square, not shifting from their spot with the hands bound, their heads down and their lips forming prayers of their own, over and over. They would not leave until they were ready. And the rabbi would not depart and head back into the temples until all had left. He was there as their conduit and their guide to the Almighty.
At the words of the young woman beside her, Hannah turned to smile in return. The smile reached her eyes and warmed them over the edge of her newly fastened mitzpahath. Her tone was also friendly...
"Perhaps we can both take comfort that our wishes have been sent from both our hearts." She suggested softly and then reached out to take one of the girl's hands. "Piska tava, my friend." She wished, blessing her wish to be positive. "God be with you."
And then she allowed the woman to depart, as she seemed wanting to do and turned back to the central podium of the square. With her face masked and her shoulders bent low, no-one would look too closely at the Grecian face that risked breaking with Hoshana Rabbah tradition and, she hoped, would leave her to continue praying for as long as her heart could beat...
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Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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As the people of Jerusalem jostled to find their own places within the circles that represented their community as a whole, Hannah found such actions a beautiful sort of fluidity. There were the occasional awkward elbows and the treads that found other people's toes but, in general, when looked at from the steps of the Holy Sanctuary's side building, she could witness hundreds upon hundreds of souls finding a continuity and unification between one another. Like an ocean of calm that was only disturbed by the occasion white tuft of a curling wave. Such moments of breaking ne'er detracted from the all-encompassing serenity of the sea as its whole.
There was something immense... something that was almost imperceivable to Hannah as she witnessed the crowds and how they fell into place as a community. It was a collective that she so desperately wished to be a part of and had only just started to feel like an equal droplet within the ocean when it had all been blown away from her. With the loss of her husband, melted the chance of true connection to these people. And yet she was more Judean in her heart now than Greek and so belonged to neither party. She could not claim true union with the souls that were born and lost within their world of human connection. She was not a part of their community. Not truly. Yet she was no Greek. She was a satellite of unbelonging that could ne'er step forward and ne'er fall back. Held by the tenuous belief that one day Isaiah would return and rebuild the bridge that might allow her to be a part of this community. Were she to give up, to return to Taengea and reinvent her life all over again, she might have been able to find that sense of foundation. But she could not give up on the life she now held until her heart was truly lost. A loss that she would never admit to herself until she had seen her husband's passing with her own eyes.
Distracted by the bugles and by the movement of the woman next to her, Hannah moved to follow the young lady that had helped her so many years ago in Damascus. The Judean led the way and Hannah fell into step behind her. No longer able to offer the lulav and etrog when the people of the city were to be still and quiet, she was left to her own devices as a member of the faithful instead of an owned slave, and her choice in that small moment of liberty was to follow the lady she knew to be compassionate of heart into pattern of circles.
Finding themselves somewhere in the third concentric circle - for it mattered not in this particular festival where they were stood based on rank or social place - the jostling and awkwardness of human bodies was felt by the both of them. Where Gwyneth struggled to find her centre of gravity, the items of pastoral prayer in her hands halting any chance of correcting her balance - Hannah was pushed and shoved as if she were invisible, a slave of poor clothing and covered face that was holding into perhaps the most damaged of the holy plants as she had offered out the best to all others. She was nudged and shifted and with her own frail frame, she was easily knocked from one foot to the other.
It was only as the prayers began and everyone found their own place and still, that Hannah was able to plant her feet, shoot a soft look of concern towards the woman beside her and lower her head in faithful homage to the Lord Almighty. For it was He to whom they had come to pray and bless.
As the rabbi chanted, Hannah found her lips moving to form the appropriate words and responses. Her memory of just this ritual was only of one event. One time, so many years ago, in which she had tended to this event with her husband. She had only said these prayers once, had only heard them over and over upon one day. But her memories of that single event were so sharp, so vivid and so integral to her heart that they guided her well. Her voice was soft and leant to the general buzz and powerful call of the people.
When the strips of cloth and pieces of incense were passed around, Hannah remembered how they were to be used. She wrote her own wish in a Hebrew that was formed to perfection - as only those who are newer to the language and work hard to form each letter as it should exist do. She wrote with a care that took longer than others but no-one rushed her. For prayers were private between you and your God and it was of no rights to mortals to hasten that communication. Instead, she was allowed the minutes needed to form the letters and the almost Arabic appearance of the letters and place her wish for a reunion with Isaiah onto paper.
Keeping hold of the little strip and passing on the stick of incense, Hannah held the piece wrapped in the centre of her palm and bent over it with eyes closed and her heart open and begging. She sent her fears and worries and thoughts and hopes up to Heaven in the perhaps vain hope that she had lived a life valid and vital enough to be given this wish in the coming months. For that was the greatest desire of all who cumulated at just such a new year festival. That their dreams might be permitted by Him and come to fruition within the next twelve months.
When it was time to pass the strip of fabric forwards through the circles, Hannah felt almost embarrassed to have her cloth move through other hands in a manner that might be seen. But she was also emboldened that every touch would be the presence of another of the faith. One more accepted than she. Whose very connection to her wish might help to see it come alive.
Clasping her hand empty hands together, her fingers interlaced beneath the over long arms of her simlah, Hannah continue to pray in all the tongues she knew. It was internal, within her mind, but she offered up words of begging and promises of faith and fealty that she had offered on more than one occasion outside of any festival. Her lips formed the responses necessary when the rabbi at the centre of their congregation paused for their next reply and she kept her eyes closed in faith and prayer.
As the bugle became to sound again, slow and low so as not to disturb the prayers still on-going around the central plateia, Hannah glanced up to see that many of the pilgrims around her were breaking from formation and moving away from the festivities. There were already the smells of meat and vegetables and the calls of vendors to be sensed down the streets that expanded out from the Holy Sanctuary. Now that the religious side of the affairs had been seen to, the economy of the Judean people was ready to flourish in a crowd so large.
Some of the communion remained in the open square, not shifting from their spot with the hands bound, their heads down and their lips forming prayers of their own, over and over. They would not leave until they were ready. And the rabbi would not depart and head back into the temples until all had left. He was there as their conduit and their guide to the Almighty.
At the words of the young woman beside her, Hannah turned to smile in return. The smile reached her eyes and warmed them over the edge of her newly fastened mitzpahath. Her tone was also friendly...
"Perhaps we can both take comfort that our wishes have been sent from both our hearts." She suggested softly and then reached out to take one of the girl's hands. "Piska tava, my friend." She wished, blessing her wish to be positive. "God be with you."
And then she allowed the woman to depart, as she seemed wanting to do and turned back to the central podium of the square. With her face masked and her shoulders bent low, no-one would look too closely at the Grecian face that risked breaking with Hoshana Rabbah tradition and, she hoped, would leave her to continue praying for as long as her heart could beat...
As the people of Jerusalem jostled to find their own places within the circles that represented their community as a whole, Hannah found such actions a beautiful sort of fluidity. There were the occasional awkward elbows and the treads that found other people's toes but, in general, when looked at from the steps of the Holy Sanctuary's side building, she could witness hundreds upon hundreds of souls finding a continuity and unification between one another. Like an ocean of calm that was only disturbed by the occasion white tuft of a curling wave. Such moments of breaking ne'er detracted from the all-encompassing serenity of the sea as its whole.
There was something immense... something that was almost imperceivable to Hannah as she witnessed the crowds and how they fell into place as a community. It was a collective that she so desperately wished to be a part of and had only just started to feel like an equal droplet within the ocean when it had all been blown away from her. With the loss of her husband, melted the chance of true connection to these people. And yet she was more Judean in her heart now than Greek and so belonged to neither party. She could not claim true union with the souls that were born and lost within their world of human connection. She was not a part of their community. Not truly. Yet she was no Greek. She was a satellite of unbelonging that could ne'er step forward and ne'er fall back. Held by the tenuous belief that one day Isaiah would return and rebuild the bridge that might allow her to be a part of this community. Were she to give up, to return to Taengea and reinvent her life all over again, she might have been able to find that sense of foundation. But she could not give up on the life she now held until her heart was truly lost. A loss that she would never admit to herself until she had seen her husband's passing with her own eyes.
Distracted by the bugles and by the movement of the woman next to her, Hannah moved to follow the young lady that had helped her so many years ago in Damascus. The Judean led the way and Hannah fell into step behind her. No longer able to offer the lulav and etrog when the people of the city were to be still and quiet, she was left to her own devices as a member of the faithful instead of an owned slave, and her choice in that small moment of liberty was to follow the lady she knew to be compassionate of heart into pattern of circles.
Finding themselves somewhere in the third concentric circle - for it mattered not in this particular festival where they were stood based on rank or social place - the jostling and awkwardness of human bodies was felt by the both of them. Where Gwyneth struggled to find her centre of gravity, the items of pastoral prayer in her hands halting any chance of correcting her balance - Hannah was pushed and shoved as if she were invisible, a slave of poor clothing and covered face that was holding into perhaps the most damaged of the holy plants as she had offered out the best to all others. She was nudged and shifted and with her own frail frame, she was easily knocked from one foot to the other.
It was only as the prayers began and everyone found their own place and still, that Hannah was able to plant her feet, shoot a soft look of concern towards the woman beside her and lower her head in faithful homage to the Lord Almighty. For it was He to whom they had come to pray and bless.
As the rabbi chanted, Hannah found her lips moving to form the appropriate words and responses. Her memory of just this ritual was only of one event. One time, so many years ago, in which she had tended to this event with her husband. She had only said these prayers once, had only heard them over and over upon one day. But her memories of that single event were so sharp, so vivid and so integral to her heart that they guided her well. Her voice was soft and leant to the general buzz and powerful call of the people.
When the strips of cloth and pieces of incense were passed around, Hannah remembered how they were to be used. She wrote her own wish in a Hebrew that was formed to perfection - as only those who are newer to the language and work hard to form each letter as it should exist do. She wrote with a care that took longer than others but no-one rushed her. For prayers were private between you and your God and it was of no rights to mortals to hasten that communication. Instead, she was allowed the minutes needed to form the letters and the almost Arabic appearance of the letters and place her wish for a reunion with Isaiah onto paper.
Keeping hold of the little strip and passing on the stick of incense, Hannah held the piece wrapped in the centre of her palm and bent over it with eyes closed and her heart open and begging. She sent her fears and worries and thoughts and hopes up to Heaven in the perhaps vain hope that she had lived a life valid and vital enough to be given this wish in the coming months. For that was the greatest desire of all who cumulated at just such a new year festival. That their dreams might be permitted by Him and come to fruition within the next twelve months.
When it was time to pass the strip of fabric forwards through the circles, Hannah felt almost embarrassed to have her cloth move through other hands in a manner that might be seen. But she was also emboldened that every touch would be the presence of another of the faith. One more accepted than she. Whose very connection to her wish might help to see it come alive.
Clasping her hand empty hands together, her fingers interlaced beneath the over long arms of her simlah, Hannah continue to pray in all the tongues she knew. It was internal, within her mind, but she offered up words of begging and promises of faith and fealty that she had offered on more than one occasion outside of any festival. Her lips formed the responses necessary when the rabbi at the centre of their congregation paused for their next reply and she kept her eyes closed in faith and prayer.
As the bugle became to sound again, slow and low so as not to disturb the prayers still on-going around the central plateia, Hannah glanced up to see that many of the pilgrims around her were breaking from formation and moving away from the festivities. There were already the smells of meat and vegetables and the calls of vendors to be sensed down the streets that expanded out from the Holy Sanctuary. Now that the religious side of the affairs had been seen to, the economy of the Judean people was ready to flourish in a crowd so large.
Some of the communion remained in the open square, not shifting from their spot with the hands bound, their heads down and their lips forming prayers of their own, over and over. They would not leave until they were ready. And the rabbi would not depart and head back into the temples until all had left. He was there as their conduit and their guide to the Almighty.
At the words of the young woman beside her, Hannah turned to smile in return. The smile reached her eyes and warmed them over the edge of her newly fastened mitzpahath. Her tone was also friendly...
"Perhaps we can both take comfort that our wishes have been sent from both our hearts." She suggested softly and then reached out to take one of the girl's hands. "Piska tava, my friend." She wished, blessing her wish to be positive. "God be with you."
And then she allowed the woman to depart, as she seemed wanting to do and turned back to the central podium of the square. With her face masked and her shoulders bent low, no-one would look too closely at the Grecian face that risked breaking with Hoshana Rabbah tradition and, she hoped, would leave her to continue praying for as long as her heart could beat...
Like most family trips for the Haviv household, the journey to Jerusalem was far from uneventful. Two horses had gone lame and a cart wheel had threatened to detach. Once they had arrived there, Elhanan had attended the meeting of elders and come back in a most disturbed mood. The tent walls had been thin enough that Amarissa had heard her parents discussing the events of the meeting from her own small tent and the young noble woman could not help but worry about the repercussions of such a decision, not only on trade but also on the people themselves. To not even offer shelter to the wounded seemed...cruel. Surely Yahweh would punish them for such treatment.
As such she approached this celebration with some trepidation. She had tried to find Maeri every day but somehow the two young women kept missing each other and Amarissa had still not seen her since the engagement party.
Elhanan took his time getting ready and so it was that the two boys went ahead on their own to the temple celebrations and Amarissa attended her parents as they made their way through the crowds. As the crowd's whispers met circle around, Amarissa glanced at her father and thought back to the discussion they had had when she'd returned from the night the camels ran away with her and the eldest son of the Jaffe family. It was the first time that she had seen her father truly angry with her. He had said that her idleness and friendliness with those outside of the family had finally been her undoing. That her carelessness in regards to staying with her family had led to unspeakable possibilities.
She had assured him that nothing of any sort had happened between her and the young man but she saw doubt in his eyes. Was it because in her heart she might have sinned had the opportunity truly arose? Did he see that somewhere along the line she had gone from loathing this son of Jaffe to having some level of affection for him? But what was this event? Did she desire him? She didn't even know. It was similar and yet so different from the feelings she'd felt for Mazel once upon a time. Was it because to desire a man was not a sin? Whereas...she dare not even think it.
And then there was Maeri. Sweet Maeri. She felt more of a sisterly affection for that young woman. Protective even. She wondered how the spastic creature that somehow remained so adorable would do with married life. How would Amiti's need for order and discipline mesh with one such as Maeri? They seemed happy enough together. Amarissa prayed that their personalities would fine a happy balance together.
Her father shot her a look as the rumors spun around them all and Amarissa made a respectful dip of her head as she continued to follow them through the crowd. She was not to be alone with Amiti again. Such was her father's decree anyway. He'd prefer her not speak to the man at all unless marriage was being discussed between the two families but felt proposing such so close to Amiti's first upcoming wedding would be unseemly on all involved. No, they would wait, they would bide their time. Like any negotiation, an amiable solution would be found that could make all agreeable.
So it was that when Amarissa saw Maeri and her family ahead in the crowd, she was about to call out but thought better of it. She hoped that they might be able to find each other again in the crowds, perhaps even pray together but the crowd surged and moved around them and soon she lost sight of her young friend again.
The horns were blown and the prayers of the people rose as a voice both diverse and as one. Quiet whispers mixed with the occasional wails of the desperate. The scent of incense rising around them and mixing with the scents and smells of those who had been living in tents and caring for animals this past week or so depending on their journeys here. Some perhaps had even been traveling for near a month.
Amarissa carefully wrote out her prayer for peace and whispered it to the heavens. A tear or two escaped her eyes as she wished earnestly for all to work itself out for the best. War, marriages, all of it. Any of it.
She had just opened her eyes and wiped them on the edge of her sleeve when she turned to move with her family and saw Maeri ahead. "Yedidati (my friend)!" she called out as she moved toward the young woman. "So good to see you!" She hoped that Maeri had not heard the cruel whispers that were going around earlier. How disturbing to a young wife to be those would be!
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Like most family trips for the Haviv household, the journey to Jerusalem was far from uneventful. Two horses had gone lame and a cart wheel had threatened to detach. Once they had arrived there, Elhanan had attended the meeting of elders and come back in a most disturbed mood. The tent walls had been thin enough that Amarissa had heard her parents discussing the events of the meeting from her own small tent and the young noble woman could not help but worry about the repercussions of such a decision, not only on trade but also on the people themselves. To not even offer shelter to the wounded seemed...cruel. Surely Yahweh would punish them for such treatment.
As such she approached this celebration with some trepidation. She had tried to find Maeri every day but somehow the two young women kept missing each other and Amarissa had still not seen her since the engagement party.
Elhanan took his time getting ready and so it was that the two boys went ahead on their own to the temple celebrations and Amarissa attended her parents as they made their way through the crowds. As the crowd's whispers met circle around, Amarissa glanced at her father and thought back to the discussion they had had when she'd returned from the night the camels ran away with her and the eldest son of the Jaffe family. It was the first time that she had seen her father truly angry with her. He had said that her idleness and friendliness with those outside of the family had finally been her undoing. That her carelessness in regards to staying with her family had led to unspeakable possibilities.
She had assured him that nothing of any sort had happened between her and the young man but she saw doubt in his eyes. Was it because in her heart she might have sinned had the opportunity truly arose? Did he see that somewhere along the line she had gone from loathing this son of Jaffe to having some level of affection for him? But what was this event? Did she desire him? She didn't even know. It was similar and yet so different from the feelings she'd felt for Mazel once upon a time. Was it because to desire a man was not a sin? Whereas...she dare not even think it.
And then there was Maeri. Sweet Maeri. She felt more of a sisterly affection for that young woman. Protective even. She wondered how the spastic creature that somehow remained so adorable would do with married life. How would Amiti's need for order and discipline mesh with one such as Maeri? They seemed happy enough together. Amarissa prayed that their personalities would fine a happy balance together.
Her father shot her a look as the rumors spun around them all and Amarissa made a respectful dip of her head as she continued to follow them through the crowd. She was not to be alone with Amiti again. Such was her father's decree anyway. He'd prefer her not speak to the man at all unless marriage was being discussed between the two families but felt proposing such so close to Amiti's first upcoming wedding would be unseemly on all involved. No, they would wait, they would bide their time. Like any negotiation, an amiable solution would be found that could make all agreeable.
So it was that when Amarissa saw Maeri and her family ahead in the crowd, she was about to call out but thought better of it. She hoped that they might be able to find each other again in the crowds, perhaps even pray together but the crowd surged and moved around them and soon she lost sight of her young friend again.
The horns were blown and the prayers of the people rose as a voice both diverse and as one. Quiet whispers mixed with the occasional wails of the desperate. The scent of incense rising around them and mixing with the scents and smells of those who had been living in tents and caring for animals this past week or so depending on their journeys here. Some perhaps had even been traveling for near a month.
Amarissa carefully wrote out her prayer for peace and whispered it to the heavens. A tear or two escaped her eyes as she wished earnestly for all to work itself out for the best. War, marriages, all of it. Any of it.
She had just opened her eyes and wiped them on the edge of her sleeve when she turned to move with her family and saw Maeri ahead. "Yedidati (my friend)!" she called out as she moved toward the young woman. "So good to see you!" She hoped that Maeri had not heard the cruel whispers that were going around earlier. How disturbing to a young wife to be those would be!
Like most family trips for the Haviv household, the journey to Jerusalem was far from uneventful. Two horses had gone lame and a cart wheel had threatened to detach. Once they had arrived there, Elhanan had attended the meeting of elders and come back in a most disturbed mood. The tent walls had been thin enough that Amarissa had heard her parents discussing the events of the meeting from her own small tent and the young noble woman could not help but worry about the repercussions of such a decision, not only on trade but also on the people themselves. To not even offer shelter to the wounded seemed...cruel. Surely Yahweh would punish them for such treatment.
As such she approached this celebration with some trepidation. She had tried to find Maeri every day but somehow the two young women kept missing each other and Amarissa had still not seen her since the engagement party.
Elhanan took his time getting ready and so it was that the two boys went ahead on their own to the temple celebrations and Amarissa attended her parents as they made their way through the crowds. As the crowd's whispers met circle around, Amarissa glanced at her father and thought back to the discussion they had had when she'd returned from the night the camels ran away with her and the eldest son of the Jaffe family. It was the first time that she had seen her father truly angry with her. He had said that her idleness and friendliness with those outside of the family had finally been her undoing. That her carelessness in regards to staying with her family had led to unspeakable possibilities.
She had assured him that nothing of any sort had happened between her and the young man but she saw doubt in his eyes. Was it because in her heart she might have sinned had the opportunity truly arose? Did he see that somewhere along the line she had gone from loathing this son of Jaffe to having some level of affection for him? But what was this event? Did she desire him? She didn't even know. It was similar and yet so different from the feelings she'd felt for Mazel once upon a time. Was it because to desire a man was not a sin? Whereas...she dare not even think it.
And then there was Maeri. Sweet Maeri. She felt more of a sisterly affection for that young woman. Protective even. She wondered how the spastic creature that somehow remained so adorable would do with married life. How would Amiti's need for order and discipline mesh with one such as Maeri? They seemed happy enough together. Amarissa prayed that their personalities would fine a happy balance together.
Her father shot her a look as the rumors spun around them all and Amarissa made a respectful dip of her head as she continued to follow them through the crowd. She was not to be alone with Amiti again. Such was her father's decree anyway. He'd prefer her not speak to the man at all unless marriage was being discussed between the two families but felt proposing such so close to Amiti's first upcoming wedding would be unseemly on all involved. No, they would wait, they would bide their time. Like any negotiation, an amiable solution would be found that could make all agreeable.
So it was that when Amarissa saw Maeri and her family ahead in the crowd, she was about to call out but thought better of it. She hoped that they might be able to find each other again in the crowds, perhaps even pray together but the crowd surged and moved around them and soon she lost sight of her young friend again.
The horns were blown and the prayers of the people rose as a voice both diverse and as one. Quiet whispers mixed with the occasional wails of the desperate. The scent of incense rising around them and mixing with the scents and smells of those who had been living in tents and caring for animals this past week or so depending on their journeys here. Some perhaps had even been traveling for near a month.
Amarissa carefully wrote out her prayer for peace and whispered it to the heavens. A tear or two escaped her eyes as she wished earnestly for all to work itself out for the best. War, marriages, all of it. Any of it.
She had just opened her eyes and wiped them on the edge of her sleeve when she turned to move with her family and saw Maeri ahead. "Yedidati (my friend)!" she called out as she moved toward the young woman. "So good to see you!" She hoped that Maeri had not heard the cruel whispers that were going around earlier. How disturbing to a young wife to be those would be!
Maeri always enjoyed the ceremonies at the temple. The prayers and the songs and everything were always so beautiful. She it was wonderful to go to the temple in Jerusalem. Still all throughout the ceremony, things were niggling in the back of her head. The rumors that Amiti might be interested in two different women had bothered her. Amiti was to be her husband. That much had already been agreed upon between their families. Not that she hadn’t always ultimately wanted to have another wife in the family to help out. Well, eventually. Definitely not as a new wife who didn’t even properly know her husband yet.
When it came to writing down her wish for the year to come, there was only one thing on Maeri’s mind, her upcoming marriage. She wrote down her wish that she would be a good wife to Amiti and that God would bless them with a child before the year was out. That was what she wanted the most in life, to be a good wife and mother. That is what she, and every woman in Judea was expected to become, and that’s exactly what Maeri intended to do with her life. That was what she prayed would be granted to her. She wasn’t even going to let herself worry about rumors about Amiti. It wasn’t good to gossip, after all, so the people spreading those rumors couldn’t be good people.
As the ceremony ended, Maeri and her family rose to head back outside, again joining the crowds who had come to the temple to celebrate. There, she finally saw her friend who she had been missing ever since her engagement had happened. At the sound of Amarissa’s voice, Maeri spun excitedly, grinning broadly. “Amarissa! How I have missed you!” She strode towards her friend gripping her in a tight hug, then pulling back so she could look her friend in the eye. “I hoped we would see each other here.” She seemed even more beautiful than Maeri had remembered. Maeri only wished that she could achieve those same few effortless curls falling from beneath her mitpahath on her own hair.
“You’ll be coming to the wedding won’t you?” Maeri asked. She wanted to know when she would see Amarissa again since there was the chance that their respective families could call them to leave at any moment. But that topic brought up the thoughts and fears that had been ruminating at the back of her mind ever since she had entered the temple.
“You didn’t hear those rumors about Amiti did you?” Maeri asked, her face suddenly going from smiling at seeing her good friend again, to an expression of worry. “Nedevah said that I shouldn’t listen to gossips, but...Talora didn’t agree. Not that I trust Talora. She’s been very contrary lately.” Still, Maeri couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something was going on there. Perhaps Amarissa might be able to offer some words of wisdom to make her feel more confident that the rumors could be put to rest.
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Maeri always enjoyed the ceremonies at the temple. The prayers and the songs and everything were always so beautiful. She it was wonderful to go to the temple in Jerusalem. Still all throughout the ceremony, things were niggling in the back of her head. The rumors that Amiti might be interested in two different women had bothered her. Amiti was to be her husband. That much had already been agreed upon between their families. Not that she hadn’t always ultimately wanted to have another wife in the family to help out. Well, eventually. Definitely not as a new wife who didn’t even properly know her husband yet.
When it came to writing down her wish for the year to come, there was only one thing on Maeri’s mind, her upcoming marriage. She wrote down her wish that she would be a good wife to Amiti and that God would bless them with a child before the year was out. That was what she wanted the most in life, to be a good wife and mother. That is what she, and every woman in Judea was expected to become, and that’s exactly what Maeri intended to do with her life. That was what she prayed would be granted to her. She wasn’t even going to let herself worry about rumors about Amiti. It wasn’t good to gossip, after all, so the people spreading those rumors couldn’t be good people.
As the ceremony ended, Maeri and her family rose to head back outside, again joining the crowds who had come to the temple to celebrate. There, she finally saw her friend who she had been missing ever since her engagement had happened. At the sound of Amarissa’s voice, Maeri spun excitedly, grinning broadly. “Amarissa! How I have missed you!” She strode towards her friend gripping her in a tight hug, then pulling back so she could look her friend in the eye. “I hoped we would see each other here.” She seemed even more beautiful than Maeri had remembered. Maeri only wished that she could achieve those same few effortless curls falling from beneath her mitpahath on her own hair.
“You’ll be coming to the wedding won’t you?” Maeri asked. She wanted to know when she would see Amarissa again since there was the chance that their respective families could call them to leave at any moment. But that topic brought up the thoughts and fears that had been ruminating at the back of her mind ever since she had entered the temple.
“You didn’t hear those rumors about Amiti did you?” Maeri asked, her face suddenly going from smiling at seeing her good friend again, to an expression of worry. “Nedevah said that I shouldn’t listen to gossips, but...Talora didn’t agree. Not that I trust Talora. She’s been very contrary lately.” Still, Maeri couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something was going on there. Perhaps Amarissa might be able to offer some words of wisdom to make her feel more confident that the rumors could be put to rest.
Maeri always enjoyed the ceremonies at the temple. The prayers and the songs and everything were always so beautiful. She it was wonderful to go to the temple in Jerusalem. Still all throughout the ceremony, things were niggling in the back of her head. The rumors that Amiti might be interested in two different women had bothered her. Amiti was to be her husband. That much had already been agreed upon between their families. Not that she hadn’t always ultimately wanted to have another wife in the family to help out. Well, eventually. Definitely not as a new wife who didn’t even properly know her husband yet.
When it came to writing down her wish for the year to come, there was only one thing on Maeri’s mind, her upcoming marriage. She wrote down her wish that she would be a good wife to Amiti and that God would bless them with a child before the year was out. That was what she wanted the most in life, to be a good wife and mother. That is what she, and every woman in Judea was expected to become, and that’s exactly what Maeri intended to do with her life. That was what she prayed would be granted to her. She wasn’t even going to let herself worry about rumors about Amiti. It wasn’t good to gossip, after all, so the people spreading those rumors couldn’t be good people.
As the ceremony ended, Maeri and her family rose to head back outside, again joining the crowds who had come to the temple to celebrate. There, she finally saw her friend who she had been missing ever since her engagement had happened. At the sound of Amarissa’s voice, Maeri spun excitedly, grinning broadly. “Amarissa! How I have missed you!” She strode towards her friend gripping her in a tight hug, then pulling back so she could look her friend in the eye. “I hoped we would see each other here.” She seemed even more beautiful than Maeri had remembered. Maeri only wished that she could achieve those same few effortless curls falling from beneath her mitpahath on her own hair.
“You’ll be coming to the wedding won’t you?” Maeri asked. She wanted to know when she would see Amarissa again since there was the chance that their respective families could call them to leave at any moment. But that topic brought up the thoughts and fears that had been ruminating at the back of her mind ever since she had entered the temple.
“You didn’t hear those rumors about Amiti did you?” Maeri asked, her face suddenly going from smiling at seeing her good friend again, to an expression of worry. “Nedevah said that I shouldn’t listen to gossips, but...Talora didn’t agree. Not that I trust Talora. She’s been very contrary lately.” Still, Maeri couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something was going on there. Perhaps Amarissa might be able to offer some words of wisdom to make her feel more confident that the rumors could be put to rest.
All the fears of what Maeri might think of her vanished as her friend came in for a tight hug. Amarissa had to wonder what Amiti had even told her then of the camel adventure. Deciding to not think any more of it, Amarissa tightly hugged back her friend and enjoyed the embrace.
"And I hoped the same! It seems at least one prayer was heard" Amarissa laughed with still a bit of glistening to her eyes. "Oh of course! I wouldn't let my family miss it Achot" Amarissa grinned and used the pet name of 'sister' for her friend.
"Are all the preparations ready? The food?" she asked as she linked arms with her friend and they wandered their way from where they'd been standing to offer prayers.
Her smile faded as her friend asked about the rumors. "I had hoped you hadn't heard those wagging tongues" Amarissa said gently and moved a small bit of hair from her friend's face to tuck it back under her head covering. "You shouldn't listen to them. He has eyes only for you" she assured with a smile. "Besides, you know his father hates women, there's no way he'd have two wives" she assured with a laugh as if even the idea was ridiculous. Inside she cringed at her own joke for she knew her father's plans. Still he was a greater salesmen than anyone she knew and perhaps he was up for the task still. But that was something to talk of later. Not now. Not in front of Maeri.
Amarissa smiled encouragingly, "Ignore those idle gossipers and focus on your wedding! And your new home!" Amarissa smiled broadly. "Will you be living in his family's home or has he found a new one for you both yet?" Amarissa asked quickly, trying to distract her friend as she moved them forward again through the crowd.
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All the fears of what Maeri might think of her vanished as her friend came in for a tight hug. Amarissa had to wonder what Amiti had even told her then of the camel adventure. Deciding to not think any more of it, Amarissa tightly hugged back her friend and enjoyed the embrace.
"And I hoped the same! It seems at least one prayer was heard" Amarissa laughed with still a bit of glistening to her eyes. "Oh of course! I wouldn't let my family miss it Achot" Amarissa grinned and used the pet name of 'sister' for her friend.
"Are all the preparations ready? The food?" she asked as she linked arms with her friend and they wandered their way from where they'd been standing to offer prayers.
Her smile faded as her friend asked about the rumors. "I had hoped you hadn't heard those wagging tongues" Amarissa said gently and moved a small bit of hair from her friend's face to tuck it back under her head covering. "You shouldn't listen to them. He has eyes only for you" she assured with a smile. "Besides, you know his father hates women, there's no way he'd have two wives" she assured with a laugh as if even the idea was ridiculous. Inside she cringed at her own joke for she knew her father's plans. Still he was a greater salesmen than anyone she knew and perhaps he was up for the task still. But that was something to talk of later. Not now. Not in front of Maeri.
Amarissa smiled encouragingly, "Ignore those idle gossipers and focus on your wedding! And your new home!" Amarissa smiled broadly. "Will you be living in his family's home or has he found a new one for you both yet?" Amarissa asked quickly, trying to distract her friend as she moved them forward again through the crowd.
All the fears of what Maeri might think of her vanished as her friend came in for a tight hug. Amarissa had to wonder what Amiti had even told her then of the camel adventure. Deciding to not think any more of it, Amarissa tightly hugged back her friend and enjoyed the embrace.
"And I hoped the same! It seems at least one prayer was heard" Amarissa laughed with still a bit of glistening to her eyes. "Oh of course! I wouldn't let my family miss it Achot" Amarissa grinned and used the pet name of 'sister' for her friend.
"Are all the preparations ready? The food?" she asked as she linked arms with her friend and they wandered their way from where they'd been standing to offer prayers.
Her smile faded as her friend asked about the rumors. "I had hoped you hadn't heard those wagging tongues" Amarissa said gently and moved a small bit of hair from her friend's face to tuck it back under her head covering. "You shouldn't listen to them. He has eyes only for you" she assured with a smile. "Besides, you know his father hates women, there's no way he'd have two wives" she assured with a laugh as if even the idea was ridiculous. Inside she cringed at her own joke for she knew her father's plans. Still he was a greater salesmen than anyone she knew and perhaps he was up for the task still. But that was something to talk of later. Not now. Not in front of Maeri.
Amarissa smiled encouragingly, "Ignore those idle gossipers and focus on your wedding! And your new home!" Amarissa smiled broadly. "Will you be living in his family's home or has he found a new one for you both yet?" Amarissa asked quickly, trying to distract her friend as she moved them forward again through the crowd.
Selima was nothing but kindness and smiles on this evening (well, every evening, really). To have such a beautiful and holy event happen in Jerusalem filled her heart with such pride for the city and her people for being able to accommodate such a large pilgrimage every year. But it was the feeling of togetherness, the unity in prayer, and the warmth of company that truly touched the woman’s heart. This was a night that Selima looked forward to, and one that she hoped her children did as well.
Speaking of children, Selima’s eyes scanned the crowd. Of course, as was expected, her family was here. But she had lost them as she mingled with the different visitors and citizens. She liked to believe her daughter and granddaughter were deep in their prayers and chants, and her son and daughter-in-law were politely chatting. Though a mother always likes to believe the best…
Selima never once saw her children. But her eyes did find Maeri and Amarissa chatting among themselves. They had shared a hug, the sweet girls. Ah, that was right! Selima had heard of Maeri’s betrothal, and rumors swirling around them. Honestly, the rumors confused Selima. She tried not to listen to trivial words like that. She’d rather believe the best in people, and allow them the chance to step forward and set matters straight. Rumors were a trap meant to poison the mind and cloud a person’s judgment from the truth before their very eyes.
But it was fact that she was betrothed. So it was only right that Selima offers her deepest congratulations. So with a kind farewell to the person, she was talking to, Selima made her way over to Maeri and Amarissa. “Maeri, Amarissa, it is so wonderful to see you two again! I do hope your families are doing well.” Selima came up from behind the girls, a delicate hand placed on Amarissa as she passed as to not accidentally frighten the girls by seemingly appearing out of nowhere. “It’s been far too long.”
It had honestly felt like it had been long since she saw anyone. It almost felt like this event was her debut back into the world. With her husband as busy as he was, Selima had refocused on her house making sure that it was run to perfection. It had left little time for her to travel and socialize, something that she had missed. But with everyone in Jerusalem now was the perfect opportunity.
“Maeri, I heard word that you were betrothed. Let me offer you my congratulations! You must be so excited,” Selima said sincerely, happy for the young girl. Change was always good, and something that Selima sometimes missed. “Amarissa, Maeri, were you going to go to my home tomorrow for the festivities? It had been so long since guests had visited the home, it would be so lovely. Maeri, I hope that Amiti would be joining you as well. It would be so nice to see the two of you together.”
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Selima was nothing but kindness and smiles on this evening (well, every evening, really). To have such a beautiful and holy event happen in Jerusalem filled her heart with such pride for the city and her people for being able to accommodate such a large pilgrimage every year. But it was the feeling of togetherness, the unity in prayer, and the warmth of company that truly touched the woman’s heart. This was a night that Selima looked forward to, and one that she hoped her children did as well.
Speaking of children, Selima’s eyes scanned the crowd. Of course, as was expected, her family was here. But she had lost them as she mingled with the different visitors and citizens. She liked to believe her daughter and granddaughter were deep in their prayers and chants, and her son and daughter-in-law were politely chatting. Though a mother always likes to believe the best…
Selima never once saw her children. But her eyes did find Maeri and Amarissa chatting among themselves. They had shared a hug, the sweet girls. Ah, that was right! Selima had heard of Maeri’s betrothal, and rumors swirling around them. Honestly, the rumors confused Selima. She tried not to listen to trivial words like that. She’d rather believe the best in people, and allow them the chance to step forward and set matters straight. Rumors were a trap meant to poison the mind and cloud a person’s judgment from the truth before their very eyes.
But it was fact that she was betrothed. So it was only right that Selima offers her deepest congratulations. So with a kind farewell to the person, she was talking to, Selima made her way over to Maeri and Amarissa. “Maeri, Amarissa, it is so wonderful to see you two again! I do hope your families are doing well.” Selima came up from behind the girls, a delicate hand placed on Amarissa as she passed as to not accidentally frighten the girls by seemingly appearing out of nowhere. “It’s been far too long.”
It had honestly felt like it had been long since she saw anyone. It almost felt like this event was her debut back into the world. With her husband as busy as he was, Selima had refocused on her house making sure that it was run to perfection. It had left little time for her to travel and socialize, something that she had missed. But with everyone in Jerusalem now was the perfect opportunity.
“Maeri, I heard word that you were betrothed. Let me offer you my congratulations! You must be so excited,” Selima said sincerely, happy for the young girl. Change was always good, and something that Selima sometimes missed. “Amarissa, Maeri, were you going to go to my home tomorrow for the festivities? It had been so long since guests had visited the home, it would be so lovely. Maeri, I hope that Amiti would be joining you as well. It would be so nice to see the two of you together.”
Selima was nothing but kindness and smiles on this evening (well, every evening, really). To have such a beautiful and holy event happen in Jerusalem filled her heart with such pride for the city and her people for being able to accommodate such a large pilgrimage every year. But it was the feeling of togetherness, the unity in prayer, and the warmth of company that truly touched the woman’s heart. This was a night that Selima looked forward to, and one that she hoped her children did as well.
Speaking of children, Selima’s eyes scanned the crowd. Of course, as was expected, her family was here. But she had lost them as she mingled with the different visitors and citizens. She liked to believe her daughter and granddaughter were deep in their prayers and chants, and her son and daughter-in-law were politely chatting. Though a mother always likes to believe the best…
Selima never once saw her children. But her eyes did find Maeri and Amarissa chatting among themselves. They had shared a hug, the sweet girls. Ah, that was right! Selima had heard of Maeri’s betrothal, and rumors swirling around them. Honestly, the rumors confused Selima. She tried not to listen to trivial words like that. She’d rather believe the best in people, and allow them the chance to step forward and set matters straight. Rumors were a trap meant to poison the mind and cloud a person’s judgment from the truth before their very eyes.
But it was fact that she was betrothed. So it was only right that Selima offers her deepest congratulations. So with a kind farewell to the person, she was talking to, Selima made her way over to Maeri and Amarissa. “Maeri, Amarissa, it is so wonderful to see you two again! I do hope your families are doing well.” Selima came up from behind the girls, a delicate hand placed on Amarissa as she passed as to not accidentally frighten the girls by seemingly appearing out of nowhere. “It’s been far too long.”
It had honestly felt like it had been long since she saw anyone. It almost felt like this event was her debut back into the world. With her husband as busy as he was, Selima had refocused on her house making sure that it was run to perfection. It had left little time for her to travel and socialize, something that she had missed. But with everyone in Jerusalem now was the perfect opportunity.
“Maeri, I heard word that you were betrothed. Let me offer you my congratulations! You must be so excited,” Selima said sincerely, happy for the young girl. Change was always good, and something that Selima sometimes missed. “Amarissa, Maeri, were you going to go to my home tomorrow for the festivities? It had been so long since guests had visited the home, it would be so lovely. Maeri, I hope that Amiti would be joining you as well. It would be so nice to see the two of you together.”
Maeri smiled at her friend’s greeting and reassurance that she had nothing to worry about as far as the rumors went with Amiti. She shouldn’t have worried, but on the other hand, that was not something a young bride wanted to hear about her future husband. It was nice to have a friend who could reassure her that her worries didn’t mean anything. Besides, she was right about Amiti’s family not seeming like the type that would take a second wife.
Maeri had no idea how to answer her friend’s question about where she was going to live after the wedding. That had not been something she and Amiti had talked about. She had assumed that once she was married she’d have a house of her own to look after. That’s what she had always envisioned. “I’m not sure…” Maeri answered uncertainly. “I thought we’d have our own house, but we haven’t discussed it.” And it wouldn’t have mattered if they had, once she was Amiti’s wife, he would get to make the decisions for her family. “I mean...his family seems nice enough,” Maeri added, trying to convince herself that that option would be fine if it came to that.
Maeri was rescued from her awkward uncertainty by the approach of Selima of Simeon. “It has been too long.” Maeri echoed Selima’s greeting. Selima wasn’t someone who Maeri was used to approaching her. She had always seemed like the perfect wife and mother, it was almost intimidating to have her attention turned towards her. “Thank you,” Maeri replied demurely to the offer of congratulations. She wasn’t married yet, so it felt a bit silly to her to be congratulated already. “Can we expect to see you at the wedding?” Maeri would have been honored to have Selima and her family at her wedding. As a joining of two of the greatest families in Judea, it was open to anyone who wished to enjoy their hospitality and celebrate their wedding.
In Jerusalem, however, it was Selima’s place to be the hostess for those families that had gathered for the holidays. She was inviting the two of them over to her house, and Amiti as well. Maeri smiled at the invitation. It was nice to be recognized and personally invited. “Of course I’ll be going!” she replied happily, then turned to Amarissa. “I hope you’ll be there too. I’d really enjoy your company.” It was always good to have Amarissa around. Things always just seemed to go right when she was there. “I don’t know about Amiti, you’d have to ask him.” She hadn’t spoken to Amiti since they had been in Jerusalem. Maeri hadn’t thought to try to find him to speak with him. She’d see him again at the wedding when they were married.
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Maeri smiled at her friend’s greeting and reassurance that she had nothing to worry about as far as the rumors went with Amiti. She shouldn’t have worried, but on the other hand, that was not something a young bride wanted to hear about her future husband. It was nice to have a friend who could reassure her that her worries didn’t mean anything. Besides, she was right about Amiti’s family not seeming like the type that would take a second wife.
Maeri had no idea how to answer her friend’s question about where she was going to live after the wedding. That had not been something she and Amiti had talked about. She had assumed that once she was married she’d have a house of her own to look after. That’s what she had always envisioned. “I’m not sure…” Maeri answered uncertainly. “I thought we’d have our own house, but we haven’t discussed it.” And it wouldn’t have mattered if they had, once she was Amiti’s wife, he would get to make the decisions for her family. “I mean...his family seems nice enough,” Maeri added, trying to convince herself that that option would be fine if it came to that.
Maeri was rescued from her awkward uncertainty by the approach of Selima of Simeon. “It has been too long.” Maeri echoed Selima’s greeting. Selima wasn’t someone who Maeri was used to approaching her. She had always seemed like the perfect wife and mother, it was almost intimidating to have her attention turned towards her. “Thank you,” Maeri replied demurely to the offer of congratulations. She wasn’t married yet, so it felt a bit silly to her to be congratulated already. “Can we expect to see you at the wedding?” Maeri would have been honored to have Selima and her family at her wedding. As a joining of two of the greatest families in Judea, it was open to anyone who wished to enjoy their hospitality and celebrate their wedding.
In Jerusalem, however, it was Selima’s place to be the hostess for those families that had gathered for the holidays. She was inviting the two of them over to her house, and Amiti as well. Maeri smiled at the invitation. It was nice to be recognized and personally invited. “Of course I’ll be going!” she replied happily, then turned to Amarissa. “I hope you’ll be there too. I’d really enjoy your company.” It was always good to have Amarissa around. Things always just seemed to go right when she was there. “I don’t know about Amiti, you’d have to ask him.” She hadn’t spoken to Amiti since they had been in Jerusalem. Maeri hadn’t thought to try to find him to speak with him. She’d see him again at the wedding when they were married.
Maeri smiled at her friend’s greeting and reassurance that she had nothing to worry about as far as the rumors went with Amiti. She shouldn’t have worried, but on the other hand, that was not something a young bride wanted to hear about her future husband. It was nice to have a friend who could reassure her that her worries didn’t mean anything. Besides, she was right about Amiti’s family not seeming like the type that would take a second wife.
Maeri had no idea how to answer her friend’s question about where she was going to live after the wedding. That had not been something she and Amiti had talked about. She had assumed that once she was married she’d have a house of her own to look after. That’s what she had always envisioned. “I’m not sure…” Maeri answered uncertainly. “I thought we’d have our own house, but we haven’t discussed it.” And it wouldn’t have mattered if they had, once she was Amiti’s wife, he would get to make the decisions for her family. “I mean...his family seems nice enough,” Maeri added, trying to convince herself that that option would be fine if it came to that.
Maeri was rescued from her awkward uncertainty by the approach of Selima of Simeon. “It has been too long.” Maeri echoed Selima’s greeting. Selima wasn’t someone who Maeri was used to approaching her. She had always seemed like the perfect wife and mother, it was almost intimidating to have her attention turned towards her. “Thank you,” Maeri replied demurely to the offer of congratulations. She wasn’t married yet, so it felt a bit silly to her to be congratulated already. “Can we expect to see you at the wedding?” Maeri would have been honored to have Selima and her family at her wedding. As a joining of two of the greatest families in Judea, it was open to anyone who wished to enjoy their hospitality and celebrate their wedding.
In Jerusalem, however, it was Selima’s place to be the hostess for those families that had gathered for the holidays. She was inviting the two of them over to her house, and Amiti as well. Maeri smiled at the invitation. It was nice to be recognized and personally invited. “Of course I’ll be going!” she replied happily, then turned to Amarissa. “I hope you’ll be there too. I’d really enjoy your company.” It was always good to have Amarissa around. Things always just seemed to go right when she was there. “I don’t know about Amiti, you’d have to ask him.” She hadn’t spoken to Amiti since they had been in Jerusalem. Maeri hadn’t thought to try to find him to speak with him. She’d see him again at the wedding when they were married.
Amarrissa smiled and nodded assuredly to her friend's uncertainty. Of course, Amiti would have it all planned out, of that she was sure. She wondered briefly how Maeri would do managing a household and briefly saw a household in chaos in her mind's eye. She shook it away and focused on reassuring her friend instead. "I'm sure it will all work out." Amarissa assured and smiled broadly as Selima approached. "Of course" she answered after waiting politely till after Maeri had accepted the congratulations and invitation. "It will be so good to see everyone" Amarissa noted warmly.
The crowd it seemed was starting to disperse and Amarissa looked around quickly to find her family. Amiti had already discovered her adrift from them too often, she didn't wish to repeat any of those encounters. She spotted them quickly enough and nodded respectfully to Selima. "My family and I look forward to seeing your beautiful home as always. Thank you for your gracious hospitality" she noted with a grateful smile. "Maeri," she said softly. "Don't listen to whispers" she assured her and gave her a quick hug. "I'll see you both shortly!" She grinned before disappearing off into the crowd once more to find her family.
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Amarrissa smiled and nodded assuredly to her friend's uncertainty. Of course, Amiti would have it all planned out, of that she was sure. She wondered briefly how Maeri would do managing a household and briefly saw a household in chaos in her mind's eye. She shook it away and focused on reassuring her friend instead. "I'm sure it will all work out." Amarissa assured and smiled broadly as Selima approached. "Of course" she answered after waiting politely till after Maeri had accepted the congratulations and invitation. "It will be so good to see everyone" Amarissa noted warmly.
The crowd it seemed was starting to disperse and Amarissa looked around quickly to find her family. Amiti had already discovered her adrift from them too often, she didn't wish to repeat any of those encounters. She spotted them quickly enough and nodded respectfully to Selima. "My family and I look forward to seeing your beautiful home as always. Thank you for your gracious hospitality" she noted with a grateful smile. "Maeri," she said softly. "Don't listen to whispers" she assured her and gave her a quick hug. "I'll see you both shortly!" She grinned before disappearing off into the crowd once more to find her family.
Amarrissa smiled and nodded assuredly to her friend's uncertainty. Of course, Amiti would have it all planned out, of that she was sure. She wondered briefly how Maeri would do managing a household and briefly saw a household in chaos in her mind's eye. She shook it away and focused on reassuring her friend instead. "I'm sure it will all work out." Amarissa assured and smiled broadly as Selima approached. "Of course" she answered after waiting politely till after Maeri had accepted the congratulations and invitation. "It will be so good to see everyone" Amarissa noted warmly.
The crowd it seemed was starting to disperse and Amarissa looked around quickly to find her family. Amiti had already discovered her adrift from them too often, she didn't wish to repeat any of those encounters. She spotted them quickly enough and nodded respectfully to Selima. "My family and I look forward to seeing your beautiful home as always. Thank you for your gracious hospitality" she noted with a grateful smile. "Maeri," she said softly. "Don't listen to whispers" she assured her and gave her a quick hug. "I'll see you both shortly!" She grinned before disappearing off into the crowd once more to find her family.
The evening was much too busy with far too much to do. It was a pity, Selima would have loved to stand here and chat. Already though, her mind was wandering, thinking of the list of other people she must make sure to talk to before the night was done. There was so much to do and such little time. Ironic, given what it was they were celebrating.
“Of course, we will be at your wedding, Maeri. My family wouldn’t miss it for the world. And it’s so nice to get out of Jerusalem. I love a change of scenery.” She responded kindly, before making adding Amiti to her ever-growing list of people she must get to before the night was done.
It was Amarissa who addressed her next, kindly accepting her invitation. Oh, good. She had hoped with the two girls there Davitah wouldn’t feel quite so alone, and perhaps Katriel would also be sure to be on her best behavior. It was good for the girls to get to know others from outside of Jerusalem. And with Amarissa and Maeri’s positive attitudes they should be a wonderful influence on the two girls… so Selima hoped, at the very least.
“Wonderful! I look forward to seeing you both at the party.” Selima said happily. While her smile was warm, and her words honest, her eye was already trailing behind them. She supposed it would be time to round up her family soon. How long was it since she last saw her husband? And where did her children get off to?
“Well, then. I will see you tomorrow. Oh, it’ll be wonderful. We can talk more then.” Selima glanced back at the two. “God be with you both, and may you two have a wonderful rest of your evening.”
With that, Selima left the girls and weaved herself back through the crowd, looking for her husband somewhere among the sea of people. What a busy, busy night.
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The evening was much too busy with far too much to do. It was a pity, Selima would have loved to stand here and chat. Already though, her mind was wandering, thinking of the list of other people she must make sure to talk to before the night was done. There was so much to do and such little time. Ironic, given what it was they were celebrating.
“Of course, we will be at your wedding, Maeri. My family wouldn’t miss it for the world. And it’s so nice to get out of Jerusalem. I love a change of scenery.” She responded kindly, before making adding Amiti to her ever-growing list of people she must get to before the night was done.
It was Amarissa who addressed her next, kindly accepting her invitation. Oh, good. She had hoped with the two girls there Davitah wouldn’t feel quite so alone, and perhaps Katriel would also be sure to be on her best behavior. It was good for the girls to get to know others from outside of Jerusalem. And with Amarissa and Maeri’s positive attitudes they should be a wonderful influence on the two girls… so Selima hoped, at the very least.
“Wonderful! I look forward to seeing you both at the party.” Selima said happily. While her smile was warm, and her words honest, her eye was already trailing behind them. She supposed it would be time to round up her family soon. How long was it since she last saw her husband? And where did her children get off to?
“Well, then. I will see you tomorrow. Oh, it’ll be wonderful. We can talk more then.” Selima glanced back at the two. “God be with you both, and may you two have a wonderful rest of your evening.”
With that, Selima left the girls and weaved herself back through the crowd, looking for her husband somewhere among the sea of people. What a busy, busy night.
The evening was much too busy with far too much to do. It was a pity, Selima would have loved to stand here and chat. Already though, her mind was wandering, thinking of the list of other people she must make sure to talk to before the night was done. There was so much to do and such little time. Ironic, given what it was they were celebrating.
“Of course, we will be at your wedding, Maeri. My family wouldn’t miss it for the world. And it’s so nice to get out of Jerusalem. I love a change of scenery.” She responded kindly, before making adding Amiti to her ever-growing list of people she must get to before the night was done.
It was Amarissa who addressed her next, kindly accepting her invitation. Oh, good. She had hoped with the two girls there Davitah wouldn’t feel quite so alone, and perhaps Katriel would also be sure to be on her best behavior. It was good for the girls to get to know others from outside of Jerusalem. And with Amarissa and Maeri’s positive attitudes they should be a wonderful influence on the two girls… so Selima hoped, at the very least.
“Wonderful! I look forward to seeing you both at the party.” Selima said happily. While her smile was warm, and her words honest, her eye was already trailing behind them. She supposed it would be time to round up her family soon. How long was it since she last saw her husband? And where did her children get off to?
“Well, then. I will see you tomorrow. Oh, it’ll be wonderful. We can talk more then.” Selima glanced back at the two. “God be with you both, and may you two have a wonderful rest of your evening.”
With that, Selima left the girls and weaved herself back through the crowd, looking for her husband somewhere among the sea of people. What a busy, busy night.