Bold Girls Speak. Mary Stromer Hanson

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      The angel continued, “Go to Balak, but speak only what I tell you.” This was quite enough for one day; we have seen an angel and a talking donkey.

      “Do you think we should run back to camp and tell someone that Balaam is coming? They will want to know that he won’t speak curses, but blessings on the Israelites,” Hoglah said while keeping her head about her.

      “Do you think they will believe us?” Milcah added.

      “If they don’t, they will have to endure the fear of curses until they hear blessings with their own ears,” Noah observed.

      Upon arriving back at the camp, we joined the multitude of the Children of Israel at the base of Mount Peor. Balaam the seer seemed to observe the flight of birds that soared above him, but he apparently did not perceive any patterns from that usual source of divination. Then Balak arrived on the scene. He and Balaam appeared to exchange angry words. Seven altars were already built for the sacrifice of seven bulls and seven rams. This was the third time that Balak had tried to get Balaam to pronounce a curse upon Israel. This was the third mountain, and the third preparation of seven alters. The difference on this third occasion was that Balaam could see all the Children of Israel watching, and they could see him. Balak’s hope was that Balaam could see the multitude of Israelites spread out over the valley and finally understand the threat that Moab felt. Surely, Balaam would now curse the Israelites. Balak killed and offered a bull and a ram on each of the seven alters. The sisters knew that Yahweh never required seven sacrifices at once on seven altars.

      The multitude held its breath with the expectation of hearing curses pronounced upon them. We already knew it was not to be as Balak had hoped. Balaam the seer could only let words of blessing come from his mouth. At the third trial, the Spirit of God came upon him and he uttered his oracle, “Their king will be greater than Agag; their kingdom will be exalted. God brought them out of Egypt; they have the strength of a wild ox. They devour hostile nations and break their bones in pieces: with their arrows they pierce them. Like a lion they crouch and lie down, like a lioness—who dare to rouse them? May those who bless you be blessed and those who curse you be cursed!”

      Balak clapped his hands together in anger that Israel received blessings instead of curses, but there was nothing he could do. Balaam returned to his land without pay. We continued to gaze at the smoke that drifted upward from the seven sacrifices and the smell of burnt meat, hair, and bones. We had not eaten meat for a long time, and we were hungry just thinking about such a feast. We understood how an enemy, wealthy enough to afford to sacrifice so many animals, could be attractive. Yet these seven sacrifices by Balak were in vain, made to a false god, Baal. The real God of Israel is our strength and protection.

      After the event was over, we walked to our tent as the sky became dark. We discussed the blessing that came out of the mouth of Balaam. “A star will come out of Jacob; a scepter will rise out of Israel,” he had said. We discussed among ourselves, “What did that mean?”

      The Sisters Dare to Ask Moses

      “The priests are counting the entire population of Israelites for when they divide up between the tribes this Promised Land, which no one has seen,” Milcah reported to us.

      “What do they mean we will draw lots for land which we will actually own?” Hoglah asked. “I can’t imagine actually owning anything and living in a house. I would just like to have sandals that hold together a little longer, although these are lasting remarkably well.”

      “Oh, they are taking a census all right, but only of the men. They are the only ones who will receive land,” Mahlah, our worldly oldest sister said.

      “We are only girls, what will happen to us?” young Tirzah asked, suddenly understanding the bigger issue. “And we will no longer have manna to eat? How can this be a Promised Land?”

      “We will grow our own food. We will stay in one place long enough to plant grains and then harvest them,” added in Noah. “The elders are already drawing maps with sticks in the dust. They write their names on stones and rearrange them endlessly like game pieces.”

      “But our names are not on the stones. Our father is dead, and as women we won’t get land,” Hoglah predicted.

      “Well, we will certainly marry, then husbands will take care of us,” our idealistic littlest sister piped in. She knew her stories about how our ancestor Jacob met Rebecca at the well, and how Moses also found his wife at a well.

      “Hey, get realistic sister,” said Hoglah. “Look at us. We are sunburned. Our skin is like leather, sand-blasted from the wind. No eligible young men will ever give us a second look, even if we are struggling with heavy jars to pull water up from the wells. We have to get land in order to eat.”

      “Besides, lately the Israelite men have preferred the Moabite women. Of course they haven’t been walking every day for years, and can manage to wash their hair,” Mahlah said to no one in particular. The rest of us did not pursue that topic, as Mahlah seemed bitter.

      “Our father never regretted that we were all born female, at least he never expressed it,” Noah sighed. “Yet he knew he would never live to see the Promised Land and receive his allotment of land. What would he want us to do?”

      “It is a matter of justice,” Milcah added. “Without a son, his family inheritance promised by Yahweh will disappear unless we advocate for ourselves.”

      “The area of land that our tribe, Manasseh, receives will be unfairly smaller,” Hoglah observed.

      “Father knew Moses and said he was a fair and good man. Maybe he would help us preserve our father’s memory,” Mahlah lightened up.

      “Not to mention, provide us land to keep some sheep and grow crops for a living,” Noah added.

      “Do you know anything about planting a field?” Hoglah asked.

      “Well then, we have two problems, no land, and we don’t know wheat from a weed. All we have seen in this barren wilderness is manna and thorns that poke through our thin sandals,” Milcah added.

      “How does one eat wheat? I hear that it can be used to make bread, but I am not sure how wheat turns into bread,” Tirzah said. She had little experience eating anything other than manna.

      “So, СКАЧАТЬ