I see my wife as she was in her youth. She walks with me as far as women are allowed to go—the Court of Women—to see me off at the temple. She holds a basket, smiling brightly and waving. I remember that day so well. She was excited from the morning, saying she had good news. No matter how much I asked, she wouldn’t tell me what it was, but her cheerful mood was infectious.
After I enter the Court of Israel, my wife leaves through the Beautiful Gate. As she walks toward the Upper City, where our home is, she greets many familiar faces, returning each greeting with the brightest smile imaginable. People think my wife is kind because of her appearance, but they don’t know the real depth of her charm. I watch her walk contentedly through the Upper City, lined with clean, splendid buildings. Her beautiful hair is hidden beneath her scarf, but to me, even the way it moves makes me fall in love with her all over again. My wife is truly beautiful.
Just when I think she’s heading home, she turns at a fork and goes down toward the Lower City. Unlike the Upper City, where the king, nobles, and wealthy live, the Lower City is home to the poor. Narrow alleys wind like a maze between old buildings, and in small open spaces, street vendors set up their stalls. Sometimes, vendors argue over their spots, and the whole street erupts with noise. My wife leaves the main road and enters an alley that curves down toward the Hinnom Valley, south of Jerusalem. As she moves away from the main road, the sunlight fades and shadows gather. Trash litters the alleys, and the air is thick with a musty smell. It’s a wonder that anyone could stay healthy in such a place.
On one side of the alley stands an old building with a crumbling wall. Women gather in small groups around the rundown mud house. My wife smiles and greets them. Some return her greeting, but others ignore her or look uncomfortable. Used to such reactions, she passes by without a second thought and enters the house. Inside, a young woman lies on a bed, holding a newborn in her arms.
“Are you feeling better?”
“Yes, it’s more bearable now. I don’t know how to thank you for always coming to take care of me.”
“No need to thank me. It’s just the right thing to do.”
“Still, it must be hard for you to come all the way here...”
My wife smiles gently.
“Really, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it. And if you want to thank someone, thank God, not me.”
“Yes...”
She takes out some fresh ingredients and a bit of money from her basket and sets them on the kitchen table.
“This should be enough to buy two doves. When your days of purification are over, go straight to the temple to offer them, all right? And I brought some food too. Make sure to eat well—a healthy mother means a healthy baby.”
“Thank you so much.”
“Oh, you’re crying again. There, there. Don’t cry.”
“All right...”
My wife smiles radiantly. Just then, the baby in the woman’s arms gurgles—a pure soul smiling up at her. The baby reaches out tiny fingers toward my wife, and she instinctively extends her own hand, but before they can touch, the young woman flinches and hugs the child tightly.
“The purification period isn’t over yet...”
She holds the child a little awkwardly. A flicker of sadness crosses my wife’s face, but she quickly smiles and stands up.
“Take care and stay healthy. Look after the baby, too.”
“Yes, you take care too, Elizabeth.”
“I will. I’ll be going now.”
My wife steps outside. Before she can take a few steps, she hears women gossiping loudly nearby, making no effort to lower their voices.
“Is that the woman?”
“Yes. I heard she goes around helping poor women who’ve just given birth.”
“Is that really helping? She’s just showing off her wealth... Or maybe she’s plotting something with the children. If something happens to the mother, maybe she’ll take the child for herself.”
“I heard she’s a priest’s wife. Surely she wouldn’t do that. Maybe, since she can’t have children, she just wants to be close to babies.”
“She’s been married over ten years and still has no child. What kind of sin must she have committed for God to treat her like this?”
“I know, right? It must be God’s curse.”
I know all too well how women who can’t bear children are treated in Israel, where continuing the family line is so important. But this isn’t right. These are just a few cases among the many people my wife helps, yet they exaggerate them as if they’re the whole story. Who are they to spread such unfounded rumors about her?
My wife hesitates for a moment, then walks on, disappearing around the corner. I watch her go, her figure vanishing from sight. I burn with anger at the women’s senseless gossip. What do you know about my wife? Do you have any idea how hard she tries to live righteously before the Lord? By what right do you speak so cruelly about her? I want to rebuke them, to denounce them even more fiercely than she had been slandered, to prove her innocence with all my might. But they could neither see me nor hear my voice.
As I turn the corner, I see Elizabeth sitting with her back against the wall. She can’t bring herself to cry out loud, but through the hands pressed over her mouth, I can hear her stifled, sorrowful sobs escaping.
* * *
“Honey.”
“Wake up.”
Zechariah felt himself shaking all over as he opened his eyes. He saw Elizabeth’s face, her hair now white, smiling warmly at him.
“Honey, get up. You have so much to prepare for your first day back at the temple in a long time.”
“I know when to get up. Why are you making such a fuss so early?”
Despite Zechariah’s gruffness, Elizabeth just kept smiling. Time had changed many things. Zechariah still obeyed God’s laws and cared for the poor, but his smile had faded. For decades, he had prayed fervently to God for a child, yet his prayers remained unanswered. No matter how faithfully he served, nothing changed. What hope was left?
“Yes, yes, I’m sure you’d get up on your own, but isn’t it nicer to see my face when you wake up?”
“Such nonsense.”
Zechariah was irritable with his wife, though it wasn’t how he truly felt.
“Please wash up and come for breakfast.”
Unlike himself, who had grown more rigid with time, his wife had only become gentler. The years had left their marks on her face, but even those lines made her more beautiful.
“I said I’d do it myself.”
He muttered again as he washed his face and hands.
Starting tomorrow, his division of Abijah would serve in the temple. When he arrived today, he would be assigned quarters and sleep at the temple headquarters. At dawn tomorrow, he would perform purification rites, then gather in the priests’ court to draw lots for the incense offering. Incense would be burned morning and afternoon, continuing until the end of his duty period. How long would it be before he saw his wife again? Even after decades of priestly service, he still hadn’t gotten used to being apart from her. He worried about what she might hear while he was gone. He knew she was stronger than he was, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t hurt by people’s words. She just didn’t show it.
He watched his wife as she ate breakfast. She looked unusually pale today.
“Why do you look like that?”
“I’m just a bit tired. Maybe I’m coming down with something.”
“That’s why I told you to take it easy with the volunteer work. There are plenty of others who can help. If you get sick from helping others, the treatment costs will be even worse.”
“I’ll be fine after a day or two of rest. Maybe I’ll get better in a few hours now that I don’t have to see your face.”
She laughed at her own joke.
“I enjoy helping others, so it’s good for my health if anything. And I have somewhere to go this week.”
“You never listen to your husband. Where are you going?”
“There’s an unmarried mother who gave birth to a child nearby. Her husband ran away when he found out she was pregnant. It really seems like the end times—things we couldn’t even imagine before are happening now. Anyway, she doesn’t have any relatives close by, so I should at least help.”
“What? You’re going again after all you’ve heard before? How many times have I told you not to go to houses with newborn babies?”
“It’s not like I haven’t heard such things before. It doesn’t bother me anymore. And when I see newborn babies, I wonder if God didn’t give us a child because He wanted to use me this way. They’re not my children, but when I see them, it feels like God is praising me, saying ‘Well done.’”
As she speaks, her face seems to shine, even in her illness. Zechariah couldn’t understand why his old wife, who never listened to him and was unwell to boot, could look so beautiful. Honestly, it felt as though he was the one who needed treatment, not her.
“Anyway, don’t go out today. Just rest at home. If you get sick while I’m gone, you won’t have anyone to help you.”
“What do you mean, no one? There’s Mary’s family in Galilee.”
“It would take days for them to get here from the countryside. What if something happens in the meantime?”
“Then we could meet halfway.”
“Again with the nonsense.”
“If only you treated me half as well as you treat others.”
Zechariah’s face turned red.
“I treat others the same way.”
“I don’t think so.”
“I do.”
“All right, let’s say you do.”
He coughed awkwardly, feeling as if he’d lost even though he’d won.
“Ahem... So you’re not going there, right?”
His wife looked him straight in the eye. Facing her honest gaze made him uneasy.
“Would you really prefer I didn’t go? Do you think that’s what God would want?”
“No... that’s not it, but...”
“See? You agree too.”
“Anyway, don’t go out until you’re better.”
“All right, I understand.”
Zechariah knew that, despite what his wife had said, she would almost certainly go out before she had fully recovered. He couldn’t help but notice how eager she was to do good for others, yet how easily she could ignore her own husband’s words. As this thought crossed his mind, he remembered something he’d once heard: that men grow weaker with age, while women only become stronger. Now, looking back, it seemed truer than ever. Watching his wife, who refused to yield even an inch, Zechariah pursed his lips in frustration and spoke.
“I’m off now. Make sure to lock the door.”
“Who would bother an old woman like me? Don’t worry and do your work well.”
“Ah, you never give in.”
Zechariah spoke gruffly, still hiding his true feelings. Though he couldn’t say it aloud, his wife was still the person he loved most in the world.
Listen to the audiobook now.
