Hello, everyone! This is the first of a 3 (probably 3) part short story that I’ll be sending out. It would’ve made more sense to send out an Easter story before Easter, but I had the idea too late for that. Enjoy!
“My feet hurt,” Adah complained, tugging on her Abba’s clothes. He sighed, but obligingly crouched so she could climb onto his back.
Adah put her head on her father’s shoulder and watched the dust swirl with each person’s footsteps. In the past few days, they had encountered more and more families going in the same direction as them, and now they were part of a steady stream headed into Jerusalem.
“When are we going to be there?” Daniel asked. He was three years older than Adah, and thus too old to complain or be carried, but surely his feet still hurt.
“We’re almost there,” Imma answered, and stopped Daniel to wipe a smudge off his face. “See the walls?”
“The gate that we’re going through is called the Gate of Mercy. You might be able to see it, too,” Abba said as Daniel craned his neck to see.
“I can’t see the gate,” he whined.
From her vantage point on her father’s back, Adah could see the gate. It wasn’t impressive in itself, but she oohed and aahed to make Daniel jealous.
When they were closer to the city, Adah noticed some soldiers working on a nearby hill.
“Abba, what are they doing?”
Her father looked at where she pointed and sighed another deep sigh. Daniel also looked, and this time saw what they were talking about.
“They’re taking down the dead bodies,” Daniel told his sister, in the kind of voice meant to give her nightmares.
“Dead bodies?”
“From the people they killed. Whenever the Roman soldiers find any bad little girls—like you—they put them on those big wooden crosses until they die.”
“What!? Imma!”
“Daniel, that’s enough,” their mother stepped in. “They don’t kill little girls, Adah. Only criminals are crucified.”
Comforted, Adah turned her attention back to the soldiers. She watched them take the bodies off of the crosses with fascinated horror, then turned away and buried her face in her father’s back.
It was late afternoon by the time they finally got to the Gate of Mercy. The crowd got more dense as they went on, until they were walking in a nearly single file line. Finally, they were let through the gate and entered the city.
Although Adah could only remember coming to Jerusalem two other times, she always loved it. There were so many people everywhere. They brought bright colors and varied smells and a cacophony of noise with them that made you lose yourself in the best possible way. As her family walked deeper into the city, Adah was delighted to find that everything was exactly as it was before—at least, it seemed like that to her.
“Does something feel different to you this year?” Abba asked Imma, hollering to be heard.
“Hmm. Well, I’m not sure why there are all these palm leaves underfoot. Do you think there was a storm recently? We didn’t see one, but I suppose it’s possible. I do hope someone cleans them up soon; the streets are filthy enough without branches tripping us up. ”
“Palm branches?” Abba stopped and chuckled. “I hadn’t even noticed them. Very odd. But I was talking about the people. Something feels different to me.” He looked around. “Some sort of restlessness or excitement.”
Imma looked around too, then nodded. “Let’s get to Mary’s house. She’ll know what’s going on.”
Imma was right, as usual. As soon as Adah and her family stepped foot in Mary’s house, the woman greeted them with all the news of the city.
Now, Imma’s sister wasn’t a gossiper or idler. Mary was simply someone who needed to keep busy, and after her husband passed and her sons left home, she took to helping everyone she could.
By the time everyone’s feet were washed, and Adah and Daniel had been given dried dates and figs to eat, Mary had gotten to her biggest news.
“Jesus is here!” she told Abba and Imma.
“The rabbi from Nazareth?” Abba asked doubtfully.
“I heard He’s a prophet,” Imma put in.
“No, no, you don’t understand. He’s not only a prophet or a rabbi. He’s the Messiah, and He came into the city today! Oh, I wish you’d been here earlier. He rode into the city on a donkey, and most of the crowd spread their coats in the road, and others were cutting branches from the trees and spreading them in the road.1 And then everyone was shouting ‘Hosanna!’ and—” Mary finally ran out of breath.
Adah giggled in the silence, and Abba and Imma gave each other a knowing glance.
“Well, that explains the palm branches,” Imma remarked.
Matthew 21:8