The Widow of Zarephath - William Lyons (fun to read .TXT) 📗

The Widow of Zarephath

by
William Lyons

The city of Zarephath was situated on the sea coast between Tyre and Sidon. It was a beautiful little city. While it did not have a large harbor like the neighboring towns, it did have a small fishing community and a respectable little fish market. It was to this little market that Miriam, the young widow of a fisherman, was making her way.
What she saw when she arrived surprised her greatly. Instead of the dozen or so small brightly colored fish stalls that were normally there; today, there were only three. Her favorite vendor was one of them and she approached his stall. Surprisingly, for so early in the morning, he was cleaning up and closing. "Sir." She inquired respectfully, “ Why do you close so early today?”
Looking up from his tasks the man recognized her as a regular customer and politely replied, “The ships caught almost nothing last night. I had only a few fish worth selling, sadly, they are already sold. I’m sorry.”
Miriam looked at the other stalls and quickly saw that they too were either closed or closing. Looking at the vendor she replied quietly, “Thank you. I see that this is true for all of you.” She paused and then added, “I shall come again tomorrow as the fishing is unlikely to be bad two nights in a row.”
The vendor bowed to her and said with great politeness, “You are very kind.” His tone became sad and he added, “Others have not been so understanding and have railed at us that we simply did not work hard enough.”
She gave the man a sad smile and then replied, “I doubt that is the case. My husband was a fisherman and I know how hard it is to bring in a catch.” She hesitated and then said sadly, “Sometimes the work is very dangerous.”
The vendor got a pained look on his face and said with great kindness, “I’m sorry, I’d forgotten that your husband was a fisherman. That was a bad accident. I lost someone in that wreck too.” He paused and added, “Come early tomorrow. If there is anything, I will try to set back something for you.”
With tears of gratitude in her eyes, Miriam thanked the man and hurried home. Unfortunately, the fishing did not improve. In fact, it got worse. Soon, the fishermen were catching nothing. Then the situation became more serious. The spring crops failed along with the spring rains. There was going to be nothing to eat for anyone this season except for the town’s meager communal grain stores. Miriam was eternally grateful for the small barrel of dried fish and the barrel of meal she had been prompted to buy some time ago.
There was a rumor circulating that the famine had been called down by the God of Israel through his prophet. They said his name was Elijah, sometimes known as Elijah the Tishbite. The more this rumor spread, the more people feared this “Tishbite.” It was rumored that his eyes shot flame and by his very word, people lived or died. There was a great fear of him.
Many fled the area in search of food. They went North to Assyria, South to Egypt, or even (as most of the fishermen did) West to the many fertile islands there. There were reports of people fleeing the famine being slaughtered at the Northern borders, some of the remaining fisherman were lost at sea, and almost nothing was heard from those that fled to Egypt. It was truly a grim time. The town was now a ghost of its former self. The few people that had remained stayed indoors most of the time. These townsfolk, like Miriam, had put aside stores of provisions and still had some food to support their families.
Everyone kept to themselves and extra guards were posted at the gates to prevent bandits from entering the town to steal the small remaining communal food stores. The first months of the famine things went pretty well for the town; but then, the town’s common stores of grain failed. There were wealthy, important people in the town with large private food stores and they were not effected as badly as those with little. These people stayed behind the closed gates of their estate like homes (guarded by well-armed, private guards) and let everyone else fend for themselves.
Some of the rich people were wealthy traders. They owned ships and held lands in the islands to the West. These people took their servants and valuables, packed them in their ships, and left as soon as things became difficult. Others used their ships to buy grain in foreign lands and then sold it to the rich that had remained in the town at exorbitant prices.
There were daily rumors that fish or meal could be had in this place or that, but these were almost always false. The few fishermen that had remained tried daily to provide for the city, but their catches were either very small or nonexistent. Food was becoming extremely scarce.
Miriam had remained busy and had done very well using the stores that she had been prompted to acquire before the famine. One day, she noticed her neighbor was looking awful. She soon discovered that the woman and her baby had not eaten in days. Unable to see this woman (a widow like herself) perish, Miriam took half of what she had and gave it to the woman so that she and her child would survive. It had saved both the woman’s life and that of her child, but it had cut Miriam and her son down to half rations and little hope. Her dried fish had lasted for another month; then, a month after that, she looked into the barrel of meal and was horrified to see that all she had left was enough for one last meal. She looked in the cruse of oil and saw that it, too, was almost gone; but, if she used it sparingly, there was enough to make her and her son one last meal.
With tears in her eyes, she told her son to stay in the house and she went outside the gates of the city to gather a few sticks of wood so that she could make their final meal. While she was doing this, an old man came down the road toward the city. He looked very gaunt and extremely tired. Despite her own plight, she felt sorry for this old man; who had, obviously come to the city looking for food. He would soon find that there was none; or, at least there was none that anyone would share.
While she was distracted thinking about the old man, he had come close to where she was and called to her politely, “Woman may I speak with you?”
Startled, she replied, “Of course, sir.” She left her tiny bundle of sticks and came down to the road where the man stood. Bowing politely she asked, “How my I help you, sir?”
Bowing in return he asked quietly and almost painfully, “Fetch me, I pray you, a little water in a vessel, that I may drink.”
There was such tiredness in the man’s voice that she could not help but respond in the affirmative. “Oh course, sir. Wait here and I will fetch it for you.”
As she turned and began walking toward the well, he stopped her and added almost pleadingly, “Bring me also, I pray you, a morsel of bread in your hand.”
The poor woman was astonished at the request. She thought, “I and my son are about to starve and he requests food of me?” Yet, there was so much pain in the man’s voice that it broke her heart. She replied with much softness and regret in her voice. “As the Lord your God lives, I have not a cake, but a handful of meal in a barrel, and a little oil in a cruse.” She then pointed to the pathetic little pile of sticks that she had gathered and continued. “Behold, I am gathering a few sticks, that I may go in and prepare it for myself and my son, that we may eat it, and die.”
The old man simply stood there staring at her for a few moments. She could see pity in the man’s eyes, but he said nothing. Instead, he silently looked up as though to Heaven for some time; then, as though hearing something, he nodded. Looking her in the face once more he said, “Fear not, go and do as you have said; but, make me a little cake first, and bring it unto me. After that, make cakes for you and for your son. For thus the Lord God of Israel says, ‘The barrel of meal shall not waste, neither shall the cruse of oil fail, until the day that the Lord sends rain upon the earth.’”
Was the man mad? Had hunger gone to his head? How could any man say such a thing? Poor Miriam simply stood there for a few moments and then she came to a decision. Sparse or not, last meal or not, she and her son would share what they had, then all three would simply die. Remembering that he had asked for water she returned to her house and, bringing a small vessel, she went to the well and got the man some water. After that, she led him to her home. Finally, she returned to the field by the road, collected the tiny bundle of sticks she had gathered earlier, and returned to her house.
Sadly, she went to the barrel and scooped out the final bit of meal inside. Then taking a
bowl she poured in the meal, added some water, and some oil from the cruse. Finally she added a bit of salt to the mixture. She laughed as she saw how much salt they had, that container was full! When the baking stone was hot enough she carefully oiled it and poured a small measure of the batter onto it. It sizzled a bit and soon the odor of it could be detected. It smelled wonderful! With tears in her eyes she thought, “How sad this is the last time I shall ever smell this!” After it had finished cooking, she handed it to the old man.
Reverently he took the bread from her. She had expected the old man to grab it and gobble it down. Instead, he surprised her. Taking the cake, he reverently broke it in two. Then looking up as though to Heaven once more, he thanked God for the food and blessed it. Then, and only then, did he begin to eat. Even then, he ate slowly and reverently.
The sight had sobered Miriam. She again heated the stone, oiled it and poured on the thick batter that would be her son’s cake. When it was done she gave it to the lad. He had been watching the old man and instead of tearing into