Chapter 16

Contrary to Peter’s expectation, Esther had not joined their company when they passed through Bethsaida on the way to Hammath.

He had doubted the wisdom of her accompanying them at all; but, now that she had been invited to do so, he was anxious to see her; and, as they approached the corner nearest Hannah’s house—followed by the crowd that had assembled again in the plaza at Capernaum—his eyes searched the street. He did not know that she had received instructions not to proceed to Cana until the following day.

The next morning, after tenderly embracing Hannah, who had cried a little at their parting, she started on her journey; but not alone, for the procession that had filed through sleepy little Bethsaida all day yesterday continued to trudge along toward the south.

Arriving in the spacious field, half a mile east of Cana, she made no effort to attach herself to the Master’s company, but was content to be a mere member of the multitude that increased hourly, and immediately gave her attention to the weary and hungry women who had brought their sick, blind, and crippled children for healing.

It was not an easy assignment. Esther had often seen poverty in distress, but never before at such close range; nor had she ever felt in any way responsible for its alleviation. It had been her supposition that the poor and needy were sympathetic toward one another; it seemed reasonable that this should be true. Her present experience quickly disillusioned her. Whatever might be the traditional indifference of the rich to the plight of the poor, it was becoming apparent that the poor had but little respect for their unfortunate neighbours. The women she tried to befriend were not disposed to co-operate. They wanted food and shelter and they wanted it now—and they wanted it ahead of the others. It angered them to be asked to await their turn. Each footsore, dirty and dishevelled mother thought her case deserved immediate attention.

At first the girl was indignant. When she asked half a dozen of them to accompany her into the town, where she told her story to not very sympathetic housewives and begged a few loaves of bread here and a coney-skin of goat’s milk there and a little basket of sun-cured figs somewhere else, the women were reluctant to go. And the women who were asked to look after the absentees’ babies thought they were being imposed on. And when she returned with provisions for them, most of them quarrelled over the distribution of food. It was quite discouraging.

With her patience exhausted, she silenced one bickering group by saying, ‘I’m not being paid for helping you, you know! I’m not doing this because I think it’s fun…Stop quarrelling now—and listen to what the Master is saying!’ They scowled, but turned their faces toward the Carpenter—and made pretence of listening.

Sometimes the sensitive girl marvelled at the complacency of Jesus as he pleaded for kindness and good will among men and the mutual bearing of burdens and sharing of benefits, while the impatient audience that had come to see the working of miracles trampled on toes and jabbed elbows into ribs and jostled for better vantage.