Free Martha by Diana Wallis Taylor Page A

on Cyprus, beloved.”
    â€œYour offer brings joy to my heart, but my father needs me right now. I cannot leave him for this. It would break his heart.”
    His shoulders sagged as he nodded. “I understand, but I will hope—until they order me to Rome.”
    She searched his face and realized how dear he was to her. She could not ask him to wait forever.
    As if reading her thoughts, he took a step closer. “I will wait a little longer.”
    They seemed to move toward each other as one, and as his strong arms closed about her, she felt as if she could stay there forever. She laid her head against his shoulder, feeling the strength of his body. He seemed to sigh and, with reluctance, put her away from him. He smiled down at her upturned face and brushed her forehead with a light kiss.
    â€œI would wish more than that, beloved, but for now, let that be a seal between us.”
    She moved back from him until only the tips of their fingers touched and finally she turned away. She could not look back at him, for she would have run back into his arms and promised anything. She lifted her shawl over her head and walked home as a tear slid slowly down one cheek.

 10 
    The dream had been sweet. She was wrapped in Thaddeus’s arms, looking out toward the sea. Someone was calling and she was shaken awake by her sister Mary.
    â€œMartha, come quickly. It is Abba. I don’t think he is breathing.”
    It was barely light, but Martha rose quickly and followed her sister to her father’s pallet. Mary had taken to sleeping near her father through the night lest he wake and need her. Lazarus awakened and he too hurried to his father.
    Ephraim lay peacefully on his pallet, his face serene in death. He’d left them quietly in his sleep sometime during the night.
    Mary began to weep softly and Lazarus remained on his knees, his head bowed over the body of his father. Martha felt hot tears roll down her own cheeks as she tore the part of her tunic over her heart to express her grief. She had leaned on her father’s wisdom so long, and now he was gone. First her mother and now her father—the weight of the responsibility felt like a stone in her heart. It was all on her shoulders now.
    As soon as it was light, Lazarus went to tell Nathan and the neighbors. Martha sent Mary for Anna and Helah to begin the aninut , the preparation time. When they came, the women prepared Ephraim’s body for burial, rubbing it with oil. The women helped Martha lift the body to wrap it in long strips of linen and tucked fragrant spices in the folds. Mary bound his head with a linen napkin. The local rabbi was sent for to say the kaddish, the mourning prayers, for him. Most of the village came out of their homes to join in the funeral procession. The women wept with loud cries, flinging up dust and tearing their clothes as a sign of great mourning. Ephraim’s body was borne on a bier through the town to the place of burial and the entrance sealed with a stone. Mary and Martha wept as they left the tomb, but Lazarus walked stoically beside them, his eyes dry but his face a mask of pain.
    When they returned to the house, Judith brought eggs, a symbol of life, and bread. It was the seudat havraah, the meal of condolences. During the seven days of mourning, the shivah , Martha, Mary, and Lazarus sat on low stools, and the sisters wept together. No clothes were changed, no meals prepared. Their feet were bare as a sign of mourning and no work was done in any way. For Martha, whose life revolved around her household, it did not matter. The burden of responsibility for her family was like a great cloak that had been laid on her shoulders. Food was brought by friends and neighbors. Martha watched her brother as he sat, unshaven, staring at the floor. If only he would give vent to his grief. He recited the kaddish each day as required by a son for his father, standing up before the minyan of ten men, affirming