Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: Illustrate the meaning of "Make Hay While the Sun Shines" (without using the actual phrase or literal example). (03/06/08)
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TITLE: Twelve Year Miracles in Kfar Nahum | Previous Challenge Entry
By Petra van der Zande
03/12/08 -
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“You’ve got presents for us, Abba?” Miryam’s children begged.
“Presents for everyone!” Zabud laughed. “I did good business in Damascus.”
Veronica quietly looked on when the happily shouting children ran away with their gifts.
Zabud turned to his first wife.
“Here, my dear Veronica, a special present for you.”
Veronica’s sad eyes lit up in her anemic face.
“Thank you, my husband!” She sucked in her breath. “Oh! What a beautiful scarf!”
“But that’s not all!” He smiled at her. “There was talk in Damascus about a man called Yeshua. He seems to be able to heal people.” He held up his hand to stop her protest. “Listen to me! You’re bleeding for 12 years now. Whatever we tried, nothing helped. Even the best doctors made it worse, and it cost us a fortune.” He sighed. “Next week I travel to Megiddo. I drop you off in Kfar Nahum, that’s where this Yeshua lives. On my way back I pick you up again.”
“But where do I stay?”
“With a relative of mine. Yair. He’s a synagogue official.”
Tired after the long trip and feeling dizzy, Veronica sat down. She stared in amazement at the mass of people crowding Lake Kinneret’s shoreline.
“Is Yeshua there?” She asked a bystander.
“He’s coming from the other side of the lake. We’ve been waiting for hours! So many people want to be healed! Me too!” The woman started running, “There’s his boat!”
The crowd surged forward and gathered around a thin, tired looking man, whose talmidim tried to protect him against the mass of people.
Veronica swayed when she stood up, and her ears rang. She sank down on the stone again. Panic grabbed her by the throat. “I shouldn’t be here!” She sighed. “I’m not allowed to touch anyone, I’m unclean!”
But then a thought hit her. Nobody knew who she was, and everyone was pressing against each other.
The throng of people that passed her came to a sudden halt.
“What does Yair want from Yeshua?” She heard a man say.
“The synagogue official?” Veronica was pleasantly surprised. “What’s happening?”
“Don’t know.” The man shrugged and strained his ear. “His daughter is sick.”
Veronica bit her lip. She wouldn’t impose on them. But where else could she stay?
Suddenly resolved, Veronica carefully stood up. This might be her one and only chance. She had listened to Zabud’s stories about all those people Yeshua had healed. It was now or never.
“I’ll only touch the fringes of his mantle, that will be enough,” Veronica reasoned, and pushed herself through the crowd towards Yeshua, who now seemed to follow Yair.
Veronica managed to push her trembling arm between two people, and touched Yeshua’s mantle.
She stopped. Shocked. Amazed.
She ignored the protests cries of those bumping into her.
Her eyes filled and she put a hand on her mouth.
“I’m healed!”
The ever present pounding in her head was gone; power surged through her body, making her feel like a young girl again. She looked at her hand. The previously yellowish skin now looked a healthy pink.
“Who touched me?”
“Ah, Yeshua, what a question!” one of the talmidim said, “Everyone is pushing and shoving!”
“No, Shimon, someone received healing!”
Veronica felt Yeshua’s eyes upon her.
Trembling, she came forward, fell at his feet and told him what happened.
Yeshua touched her bowed head.
“Daughter, your trust has healed you. Go in peace, and be healed of your disease!”
“Yair, you don’t have to bother the rabbi any longer," someone interrupted the joyful gathering, "Your daughter has died.”
Yeshua clasped Yair’s dejected shoulder. “Don’t be afraid,” he said and looked in the grieved man’s eyes, “just keep trusting!”
Veronica decided to follow the crowd and see what happened next.
After Yeshua and three talmidim entered Yair’s house, a group of upset mourners, muttering angry words came out.
“She’s dead, I tell you!” One of the professional mourners told the waiting crowd. “Who does that Yeshua thinks he is? Throwing us out like that!”
Suddenly the door opened. A servant yelled,”She’s alive!” and slammed the door shut again.
That evening Veronica sat around the table with Yair’s family. She looked in amazement and wonder at the resurected 12 year old girl, enjoying her stew.
“Today was a day of 12 year miracles,” Veronica said, her face glowing. “I’m so glad I grabbed my chance!” She sighed. “Isn’t Yeshua great?”
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