Sleeping in the open without the protection of a roof or walls was not conducive to sleeping late. The sun, birdsongs, and cool breezes were wake up calls for travelers. Lingering meant more traveling in the heat of the day, and later to reach the destination.

Eran kept watch at night, so he had slept very little. He welcomed the dawn. He packed up what little they'd unpacked the night before, and roused his new family -- pushing for an early departure. His fellow travelers each looked like they'd been dragged from sleep.

After a half day of travel through the mountains near Galilee, their tiny procession turned a corner on the road. Suddenly they were in an unexpectedly verdant, secluded meadow.

Although it had been many years since he was here, Eran recognized the landmarks of his brother's encampment. Various totems were placed around the site that were symbols of the camp's residents shared purpose and beliefs.

The remote site looked as if it had been there forever, even though it was founded by his older brother within Eran's lifetime. None of the buildings were elaborately constructed. it looked more like a family farm that had been around for generations. Relics of broken mule carts and primitive farming tools were strewn about and the small, dusty pathways looked well worn.

The place looked slightly abandoned for the middle of the day, it seemed like there was nobody around. Mary could hear sounds of chickens and sheep, clucking and bleating nearby. Dishes and pans were being clanked together somewhere, and she thought she could hear hammering sounds. This brought a little comfort to the austere ambiance of the place; it had a lived-in air that immediately made her feel homesick.

Since they were not expected, there was no welcome party. Eran wasn't surprised, but It did seem strange that there was no security posted. How different life is for people who did not have much, he thought. He had grown accustomed to being a part of Josh's wealthy household. He had lost touch with the peacefulness that came with living simply.

Eran heard a cough coming from behind. He turned to see a young woman standing there. She was wide-eyed and strong looking. Her arms were folded across her chest and her legs were spread in a firm stance.

Eran studied the girl's expression. His brother was the reason they had journeyed to this remote place, and would be the only currency he could use to gain refuge. He gave the customary greeting of his native tongue to the girl, "Every knowledgeable man is free."

The young woman smiled in recognition, She said, "As every knowledgeable woman hopes." She waited to see how the stranger responded to her twist on the customary greeting.

Eran smiled. "It is so," he offered.

Mary and the boys were unfamiliar with the customs of Eran's people. They quietly waited to see what would happen next. They trusted that Eran would bring them to a safe place. They hoped it would be a welcoming one.

"I am Eran, recently of Nazareth, and I am looking for the teacher Amun. Do you know him?"

"She knows me, because she is my daughter, Miri," came a low voice from somewhere behind them in the trees.

Eran turned to see who was speaking, but he knew the voice right away. It was Amun. He looked older, but was still as striking and fierce a man as he remembered.

Eran moved to embrace his brother but Amun raised his hand and said, "Before we can touch, you must bathe first, it is our way."

"Of course," Eran said, not offended and thankful at the opportunity to bathe. He gestured toward Mary and the boys with his hand to introduce them.

"This is my family. My wife Mary, and our sons John and Jesus," he said. Mary and the boys played their parts well. Mary, without missing a beat, bowed slightly to Amun. She had grown comfortable with the idea of being Eran's wife.

The boys, for their part, still not sure if they liked being called brothers, went along with the story. They loved Eran, their teacher and for all purposes now, their father.

Amun and Miri, followed by two older male village dwellers, led them to a series of shallow, man-made caves cut into the hillside. There were two caves, one quite large for the men, and the other much smaller for women.

Miri explained to Mary as they walked that the community was composed almost entirely of men, many of them elderly. Women were not forbidden, but were not encouraged to stay. Women were considered a less clean vessel for the teachings. It was not much different in the temple, but they both acknowledged the utter nonsense of this teaching with a shared glance.

Amun was orthodox in his way. Since her mother was no longer alive, Miri did her best to respect her father's ways but did not agree with them, and would speak her mind when given the opportunity. Mary recognized a bit of herself in Miri, and was glad to find another woman to relate to, especially now with her mother gone.

Mary fretted about how Jesus would fare in the cleansing ritual. Without her there to shield him from exposure, he would have to keep his secret hidden from the view of the other men. Jesus would have to fend for himself, more now than ever before. Mary knew it would be hard, but such was the life ahead of him. She prayed for his protection as the boys and the men disappeared behind a curtain hung at the opening of the men's bath.

Miri drew aside the curtain to the women's bath and gestured for Mary to follow her inside. The modest-sized cavern was just large enough for the two of them. The bath, constructed of earth and stones, was only big enough for one. The other person had to sit beside on a wooden chair that doubled as a table. Until now, this room had been Miri's personal domain. Mary was grateful that she seemed happy to share it with another.

Once inside, with the curtains pulled, there was little light in the small cave. Though it was tight, Mary felt comforted and protected in the space.

Miri stood on its edge of the bath and using a stick, reached up to the caverns roof and pushed open a small door that let in a little daylight.

"I'm happy to meet you Mary," Miri said. "I knew that my father had a brother but he never spoke much about him. I assumed he was dead. My mother knew him--but she is no longer with us."

Mary could hear a touch of sadness in Miri's voice when she spoke of her Mother. She wondered how long it had been since her passing. Mary, given her own loss, felt a painful sadness well up in her chest. Tears began to course down her cheeks.

With their sudden departure from Nazareth, and the trek to this place, Mary had had no time to think about her parents' deaths. Of their murder! She'd pushed all thoughts from own mind to focus on the road ahead. Now, in this dark, moist place, she felt safe to release her feelings.

"Have I said something to offend you Mary?" Miri asked. She knew nothing of Mary's story, Mary's crying seemed to come out of nowhere. Miri placed a hand on Mary's shoulder in a simple gesture of concern, unafraid to express compassion to a stranger.

"I sometimes speak too plainly with people before I should, my father tells me. I did not mean to speak out of turn., Miri apologized.

As she undressed for the bath, Mary tried to gain control of her fragile feelings. She wiped her eyes with a small towel Miri offered. She was not ready to speak about her parents just yet. She gently lowered herself in the bath. It was just big enough for her to submerge herself completely. She stayed below for a long moment, suspended in the water, hoping to feel relief. When she emerged, letting the water trickle down her face and shoulders, she leaned against the wall of the tub and began to tell Miri her story.

(End of Chapter 23)