Free Jerusalem's Hope by Brock Thoene Page A

not my son,” Nakdimon started to explain but caught himself.
    â€œNot your son? Then who . . .”
    Nakdimon snapped a reply he had learned in Torah school. “Haven’t you heard that to care for travelers is as great a matter as the reception of the Shekinah?”
    The peddler fleetingly considered this wisdom and then shook his head. “No.”
    â€œOr whenever a poor one stands at your door, the Holy One, blessed be his Name, stands at the right hand?”
    â€œA lovely sentiment.” The fellow applauded weakly. “So. These boys are nothing to you. Just beggars, are they? A ticket to get in good standing with the Almighty?”
    â€œWhat does it matter to you who they are? We are speaking of the price of your animal’s hire. Here to Yerushalayim. You retrieve it at the end at my house. Nakdimon ben Gurion. You know my name. And everyone is satisfied, eh?”
    â€œPay me what I ask.”
    â€œThis will not stand well in the eyes of the Lord.”
    â€œI’ll take my chances.”
    â€œThe hooves are split.”
    â€œIf you are who you claim to be, you are a rich man. You can afford to hire ten donkeys. I’m a poor man. I offer you this deal and you insult my animal. As a matter of fact, according to your own proverb you insult the Almighty. You don’t know. I may be an angel sent to travel to this khan to meet you! To test your generosity.”
    Nakdimon knew well that the khan was packed to the brim with angels, prophets, holy men, pilgrims, rabbis, peddlers, spies, rebels, bandits, and thieves—all on their way to Passover. Whatever this fellow might be, he was not an angel.
    But there was the donkey. A much more attractive creature than its master. Better teeth anyway. It was probably the lone beast of burden for sale or hire between Galilee and the Temple Mount.
    â€œLast chance,” the thief bargained.
    Nakdimon dipped into his purse and removed the coins. “You leave me no choice. For the sake of the boy’s feet. But it’s robbery.”
    Decayed teeth flashed a solicitous grin. Grimy palm extended to collect the cash. “May the Eternal bless your honor! May you enjoy prosperity all your days for your generosity toward a poor man! You won’t regret this! I will come to your door and collect my little beast.”
    â€œAnd refund my two-shekel deposit.”
    â€œYes. Yes. Until then may he serve you well.” Thrusting the lead rope into Nakdimon’s hand, the fellow scurried away to bilk another traveler out of hard cash.
    â€œReligious holidays bring out the best in people,” Nakdimon grumbled. His uncle Gamaliel often said it was the duty of a righteous man to consider all men as if they were robbers but treat them as if they were the Messiah himself. Well, there was no doubt about this hawker. He was not the Messiah. But his donkey might well save some battered soles.
    Nakdimon absently stroked the pitiful creature’s thin neck as he gazed around the khan for the two boys for whom he had become protector and traveling companion. Then Nakdimon would go home to his children in Jerusalem. It really was not a bother. Probably not worth an honorable mention in the record book of the Almighty.
    Never mind.
    And there they were. Huddled beside a pillar. Striped robes as obvious as the clothes of a jester in the court of Herod Antipas. The Good Light and Truth. How could a man with any religious training turn away from performing a good deed on behalf of children with such names as these?
    Hadassah would have taken them for angels. Human and grubby though they might have been, they would have been swooped up and bundled home for supper. She would have made certain they were apprenticed to an artisan in the market of Jerusalem before she let them go!
    Two boys. Yes. Not angels. Yet the two had become three. Three dressed alike. Nakdimon clearly recognized the newcomer as one of the Jerusalem link boys! He was