In the first century there lived a proud but
poor family in Palestine. The
father, Baruch, made his
living as a smith. The pay wasn’t good, but his family didn’t starve.
Sometimes the mother, Miriam, made a few extra denarii by her intricate
embroidery. No one within a hundred miles was as nimble with a needle and
thread as she. They had three children, two teenaged boys, and a
five-year-old daughter named Hannah.
As much as they loved their sons, Hannah was the
light of their lives. She was
so precocious. Even though she was not old enough to read and write,
already she memorized much of the scripture quoted by the wise rabbis at
their local synagogue.
Hannah’s number one passion was her calico cat
whom she named Butterfly.
Butterfly loved to dance about in the meadow as
Hannah chased after her. The
pair spent many happy hours scampering about in the warm sunshine,
heedless of any worry about the future.
Little did they realize that disaster lay ahead.
One day near dusk, a chariot careened out of control near the house where
Hannah’s family lived. The driver of the chariot, a Roman soldier,
toppled to the ground. On his breath was the unmistakable smell of cheap
wine. His red eyes and slurred speech revealed his state of intoxication.
Shaking the dust from his uniform, the soldier cursed and spat near the
ground. Hesitantly, and with many oaths, he toiled to lift his
chariot to an upright position. Unable to complete his mission, the
soldier grew increasingly angry. He staggered to the doorway of the modest
house in front of him. Pounding on the door, he demanded
the occupants to let him in. A very intimidated Miriam peered out
of the doorway.
“Is there any man who can help me lift my
chariot?” roared the drunken soldier.
Around the corner bounded Baruch, who heard the
disturbance and hurried to see what was causing the commotion.
The soldier spotted Baruch’s unmistakable side
curls and phylactery.
Swearing an oath to Jupiter, the soldier
insulted the humble smith.
“Jew, help me lift my chariot!” commanded the
inebriated soldier.
Baruch gritted his teeth but obeyed his taskmaster.
Together, they lifted the chariot to an upright position. The smith was
about to quietly tiptoe away, but his eyes caught the sight of a small but
dark red object. At first, he thought he had uncovered a piece of
discarded cloth that his wife was sewing. However, upon closer
examination, he realized with horror that the small lump was his
daughter’s beloved kitty!
Gently, Baruch lifted her lifeless body. Poor
Butterfly! To have her life snuffed out by a drunken brute!
After the soldier drove away on his chariot,
Baruch broached the news of Butterfly’s demise to his wife, Miriam. The
two were at a loss to explain her death to their precious daughter.
They tenderly wrapped the cat’s lifeless body in
a fresh piece of linen. “It
is growing dark,” said
Miriam. “We can bury Butterfly tomorrow when we can see better.”
Late that evening, both Baruch and Miriam tucked
Hannah into bed. As lucidly as they were able, they broke the bad news of
Butterfly’s death to Hannah. The girl had an understanding of things far
above her years. Most
five-year-olds do not understand death. Not Hannah. She had lost her
beloved grandfather when she was four and had not forgotten the grim
lesson. The poor child wailed loudly for several hours before fitfully
drifting off to sleep.
Early the next morning, the somber parents went
outside near the sycamore tree where Butterfly’s lifeless body lay.
“Oh, Baruch, I just don’t have the heart to do this right now. Let me
feed the children first.” Reluctantly, Baruch followed his wife back to
the house.
“I know I shouldn’t postpone the
inevitable.” he muttered to
himself.
During breakfast, Hannah begged to be excused from
the table. Her parents understood her lack of appetite, and readily agreed
to allow her to go outdoors.
“Poor baby, “ sighed Miriam.
“She loved that cat so!”
“We really should get her a kitten soon.”
replied Baruch. “I will ask the neighbors to find out who has any
kittens. There is no abundance of cats in this neighborhood, so we
shouldn’t have much trouble finding another cat for Hannah.”
As the parents discussed the matter, Hannah
slipped outdoors to play in the front yard. She tried to make mud pies,
but she quickly grew tired of that activity.
Her heart just wasn’t into playing since she no longer had her
favorite companion.
Aimlessly, she stepped near the fence where the
sycamore tree grew. Hannah
carelessly kicked at loose pebbles as she wandered aimlessly in circles.
At last she tripped over an object near the trunk of the tree.
Curiosity gnawed at Hannah’s eager mind. What in
the world was under the white cloth at the base of the tree?
When Hannah lifted the cloth, she shrieked in
horror. There was Butterfly’s mangled body!
The girl ran sobbing as far away from the horrid
sight as she could. She ran until she could run no more.
Miriam heard her daughter’s cries and bounded
out of the house. “Hannah, what’s the matter?” she called. There was
no answer. The worried mother began to scour the neighborhood in search of
her child.
In her confusion and grief, Hannah wandered far
from familiar territory. She
was unable to figure out where she was. Terrified, the girl began to sob
uncontrollably. There was no one to comfort her. Hannah lay down in a
filthy ditch and covered her eyes. She couldn’t bear the heat beating
down on her, and her eyes were swollen nearly shut from all the salty
tears she shed.
When all hope seemed to evaporate, she heard a
voice. The girl looked up. Standing over her was a man. Something about
the man’s demeanor intrigued her.
“What is the matter?” the man gently asked
her.
“I’m lost and my kitty’s dead,” Hannah
quietly answered.
“I came to help the lost find their way, “ the
man replied.
Hannah gazed into his eyes. She had never seen
such love radiating from a person’s eyes. Instinctively, she knew to
trust the stranger.
Together, they traveled down one road after
another. The stranger began to tell Hannah stories about sheep and
shepherds, about a good son and a disobedient son. The people and animals
in the story seemed to make mistakes or get lost just like Hannah. At the
conclusion of each story, the lost ones found their way home. Such stories
made Hannah forget her own misery. What a clever story teller was this
man!
At last Hannah realized that she was approaching
the sycamore tree in her own yard. Grief gripped the child’s heart as
she spied the cloth that covered Butterfly.
Tears trickled down her cheek as she told the man
about Butterfly’s death. It was more than she could bare. How could she
play again without her beloved companion?
Hannah thought she heard the man sigh. He stooped
low and gingerly touched the cat.
Was it her imagination or did she see her feline
stir? The girl furiously rubbed her eyes and stared closely. Her tears
made it hard for her to see clearly. The heat obviously clouded her
judgment and made her see mirages.
Then she heard an unmistakable meow. Hannah also
felt the velvety texture of cat fur rubbing around her legs. It was a
surrealistic moment.
She scooped the squirming mass into her arms. The
cat began to purr and lick tears from Hannah’s grief stricken face.
There was no mistake about what Hannah was experiencing. She held her
cherished Butterfly close to her cheek.
Her cat was alive!
Hannah turned around to thank the stranger, but he
was walking away from her and had almost disappeared around the corner of
a neighbor’s house before she caught sight of him. She ran after him and
managed to grasp his hand firmly with her own tiny fingers. As she did so,
she noticed pure sunlight radiating from his wrists. Hannah twisted his
hand around to get a better look at the unexpected brightness coming from
his wrists. Then she saw why so much light was coming from his wrists. He
literally had huge, jagged holes in his wrists!
She gasped and ran away from the kindly stranger.
How could he have gaping holes in his wrists? Why hadn’t she seen it
before? How could he cause her cat to live and not be able to heal his own
wounds? It was too overwhelming for her to comprehend.
Later that afternoon she overheard her brothers
talking about some miracle working man who was executed by some Roman
soldiers. They didn’t exactly know why he was put to death. Now there
were rumors that he had come back to life. They didn’t believe this
anymore than they believed that Butterfly had been dead and had been
restored to life.
In Hannah’s heart she knew that the stories
about this man were true. She
had to find out more about this man. For days she searched the
neighborhood for the mysterious man. Hannah asked everyone she knew if
they had seen the man with the holes in his wrists.
Years passed but she found no answers. Then one
Sabbath day her synagogue invited a visiting rabbi to teach the
congregation. The visitor began to tell the worshipers about a man whom
the scriptures said would be the Messiah. Hannah didn’t know what a
messiah was, but she hung onto every word that the rabbi said. This
teacher declared that this messiah had to suffer for the sins of all
people, be killed, and then be raised from the dead. Laboriously, this
rabbi explained scripture after scripture that supported his sermon.
Hannah knew these scriptures from memory, but she never understood them
until now. At last she knew.
She remembered the stranger with the jagged holes in his wrists. She heard
the rabbi explain that the Messiah died from being nailed to a cross. Of
course, those were nail prints in the stranger’s wrist! Hannah also
understood his power over death since He himself had conquered death.
This visiting rabbi, known as Paul, was never
invited back to preach at her synagogue. His message was considered too
radical for most of the people in her village. Neighbors argued with each
other over Paul’s sermons for weeks after he left. The village elders
felt that inviting him back would only cause more dissension.
This decision made Hannah sad but it did not stop
her search for the truth. Somewhere in her soul echoed the words of the
itinerant preacher, “You shall know the truth, and the truth shall set
you free.” Hannah hugged
her cat close to her chest, and she vowed that she would always seek the
truth of the one who had the power to raise the dead.
