Free Return to Me by Lynn Austin Page A

square by the house of assembly. Musicians brought out their instruments and Iddo and the other men danced and whirled in joyous circles, clapping and singing and praising God. He couldn’t remember ever being this happy in his life. “Give thanks to the Lord for He is good,” he sang along with the others. “His love endures forever.”
    Dinah’s cousin Shoshanna led a circle of dancing women, singing the song of their ancestress, Miriam: “I will sing to the Lord, for he is highly exalted. The horse and its rider he has hurled into the sea.”
    Iddo was nearly exhausted by the time the celebration ended and people drifted home, but he still felt too restless to settle down for the night. He was bursting with joy and with thoughts of the Almighty One, and who better to share them with than his grandson. “Come with me, Zechariah,” he said, steering him away from the rest of his family. “I want to show you something.”
    “Where are you going this time of night?” Dinah fussed. “It’s late.” But her worry couldn’t destroy Iddo’s good mood. He felt giddy with joy, not wine.
    “We won’t be long. Go on home with the others.” He led his grandson in the opposite direction, down the narrow lanes through the maze of houses.
    “Where are we going, Saba?”
    “I thought we would walk to the canal where you like to play.”
    Zechariah halted like a guilty man, forced to return to the scene of his crime. Iddo laughed out loud. “You thought I didn’t know where you ran off to on Sabbath afternoons with your friend Yael?”
    “Are you mad at me, Saba?”
    “No, son. I’m not mad. Who can blame a young boy for preferring activity over study now and then? Come on, show me where you go.”
    Zechariah still looked unsure and a little worried, but he led Iddo through the dark streets where very few of the drab, mud brick homes still had lamplight shining from their windows.
    “What do you think of the announcement, Zechariah?”
    “Everything the prophets said came true, Saba!”
    Iddo heard the wonder and awe in his grandson’s voice, andlaughed. “Yes, of course! Our God is real and His word to us is real.”
    “Abba said that kings never let their slaves go free, but King Cyrus did! He really did, just like Pharaoh! The Torah is all true, Saba!” Iddo pulled the boy close for a hug.
    They reached the wide, shimmering void of the canal a few minutes later and halted near the bank, listening to the gentle sighing of the water. Fishing boats rocked on the waves, their tall masts swaying. The air was cooler by the water, and a cluster of palm trees swished softly in the breeze. Best of all, the sky seemed to open up above their heads.
    “Look up, Zaki. See all those stars? Do you remember how the Holy One created those stars and the palm trees and the birds? What does the Torah teach us?”
    “It doesn’t say how. God just said, ‘Let there be light’ and—”
    “And there was light! Exactly! The Almighty One spoke creation into being with His words. That’s why I brought you here, to talk about the importance of words. Today King Cyrus gave us a proclamation—words on a piece of paper—and do you see the power that those few words have? They will move us from Babylon to Jerusalem, from people with nothing to people with a homeland. Those words will move stones into place to build a temple for our God. Powerful words, yes?”
    “Very powerful!” Zaki’s dark eyes glistened in the moonlight.
    “Do you know why God is allowing us to return? Because of His grace and love. He will forgive us and dwell among us again.”
    They gazed at the water, and it was so still that Iddo could see the moon’s reflection on the shimmering surface. When Zechariah shivered and crossed his arms against the nighttime chill, Iddo turned and motioned for them to start walking back.
    “We’re made in the Holy One’s image, so our words also have power. You tell someone they’re ugly or that they’re a fool,