Emma Wade - Short Story - Ohio County
Item
Title
Emma Wade - Short Story - Ohio County
Description
Dear Tabitha
Abstract
Dear Tabitha,
You asked when you came to us for Passover, to tell you the story of your father’s healing. You are a wonderful granddaughter to ask such a thing. Everyone in Nain is tired of me telling the same story over and over, but I shall never be tired of telling the miracle to everyone I meet.
Before I tell you of the resurrection, I must tell you about the years leading up to that day. I was married to Bilthal when I was in my sixteenth year. We were so happy. He was a strong handsome man who defended me from all the biting words of the neighbors and the disgrace of my family. I think he was the only man who loved me before the cart ran me over and after. Soon I conceived and gave birth to a son. We named him Micha after Bilthal’s father. I could not imagine a happier day! Giving Bilthal a son had been one of my dreams. I felt that that was one thing I could do to repay him for his love toward me, give him a son to carry on his name. If only I could have seen that my dreams would come crashing down on me, it would have saved me so much pain.
When Micha was just three months old, he started to fuss and suddenly contracted a raging fever, which scared Bilthal and me to death. I did not know what to do. I could not send for my mother, for she would not listen to her mangled daughter about anything. When Bilthal returned home, I had him send for his mother, who hurried to my aid as fast as her old legs could carry her. We spent two weeks trying everything we could, but little Micha died in my arms on that horrid day. I could not help questioning why God had done this to me and why he had not saved my child, but I knew that he was God and I was not.
A month later I conceived again and bore another son. His name was Nasha. He grew to be ten years old before he too died. There were also three daughters, Sarah, Nalomi, and Mary, who all died at three years old. Soon I became numb. Bilthal had to order me to eat, and I did not sleep. I urged him to find another wife who could bear him children but he refused to listen. He urged me to try one more time. He said that the Lord had spoken to him at the temple and told him that the next child would be a son, and he would live.
I conceived and bore your father that year, Tabitha. I was so hopeful that I could live a joy-filled life, but I received word one evening that Bilthal had died in the shop. I was devastated yet again. Our son was my only consolation, until he fell sick just like the others. I did not know what to do. I tried everything. And nothing worked. I will always remember that day. I sat on the edge of his mat and watched the life blow from him like chaff on a windy day. Before I knew what was really happening, he was gone. I felt like a stone rolling to the edge of a cliff. Without any children or a husband, who would care for me?
The next day we were carrying him to the graves of his brothers, sisters, and father. Suddenly, I heard a voice. A still peaceful voice. Calm and reassuring. It was the Nazarene called Jesus. He asked me if this was my son and I do not even remember what I said. All I know is that Jesus touched your father and he sat up and looked me in the eye. I had never seen him so alive inside. He jumped off the stretcher and hugged me. I looked around for Jesus, but he was lost in the crowds. All I knew, Tabitha, was that my son was back. I never again felt the despair that I had before. My joy was complete. I did not mourn when your father and mother married, instead I looked forward to the arrival of you! I still find it hard to believe that I have become so blessed, all because of a man from Nazareth.
Sincerely,
Your loving Nana
You asked when you came to us for Passover, to tell you the story of your father’s healing. You are a wonderful granddaughter to ask such a thing. Everyone in Nain is tired of me telling the same story over and over, but I shall never be tired of telling the miracle to everyone I meet.
Before I tell you of the resurrection, I must tell you about the years leading up to that day. I was married to Bilthal when I was in my sixteenth year. We were so happy. He was a strong handsome man who defended me from all the biting words of the neighbors and the disgrace of my family. I think he was the only man who loved me before the cart ran me over and after. Soon I conceived and gave birth to a son. We named him Micha after Bilthal’s father. I could not imagine a happier day! Giving Bilthal a son had been one of my dreams. I felt that that was one thing I could do to repay him for his love toward me, give him a son to carry on his name. If only I could have seen that my dreams would come crashing down on me, it would have saved me so much pain.
When Micha was just three months old, he started to fuss and suddenly contracted a raging fever, which scared Bilthal and me to death. I did not know what to do. I could not send for my mother, for she would not listen to her mangled daughter about anything. When Bilthal returned home, I had him send for his mother, who hurried to my aid as fast as her old legs could carry her. We spent two weeks trying everything we could, but little Micha died in my arms on that horrid day. I could not help questioning why God had done this to me and why he had not saved my child, but I knew that he was God and I was not.
A month later I conceived again and bore another son. His name was Nasha. He grew to be ten years old before he too died. There were also three daughters, Sarah, Nalomi, and Mary, who all died at three years old. Soon I became numb. Bilthal had to order me to eat, and I did not sleep. I urged him to find another wife who could bear him children but he refused to listen. He urged me to try one more time. He said that the Lord had spoken to him at the temple and told him that the next child would be a son, and he would live.
I conceived and bore your father that year, Tabitha. I was so hopeful that I could live a joy-filled life, but I received word one evening that Bilthal had died in the shop. I was devastated yet again. Our son was my only consolation, until he fell sick just like the others. I did not know what to do. I tried everything. And nothing worked. I will always remember that day. I sat on the edge of his mat and watched the life blow from him like chaff on a windy day. Before I knew what was really happening, he was gone. I felt like a stone rolling to the edge of a cliff. Without any children or a husband, who would care for me?
The next day we were carrying him to the graves of his brothers, sisters, and father. Suddenly, I heard a voice. A still peaceful voice. Calm and reassuring. It was the Nazarene called Jesus. He asked me if this was my son and I do not even remember what I said. All I know is that Jesus touched your father and he sat up and looked me in the eye. I had never seen him so alive inside. He jumped off the stretcher and hugged me. I looked around for Jesus, but he was lost in the crowds. All I knew, Tabitha, was that my son was back. I never again felt the despair that I had before. My joy was complete. I did not mourn when your father and mother married, instead I looked forward to the arrival of you! I still find it hard to believe that I have become so blessed, all because of a man from Nazareth.
Sincerely,
Your loving Nana
Youth(s) First Name and Initial of Last Name
Emma Wade
Age Division
15
Category
Short Story
County
Ohio
