The footsteps that had drawn near to Joseph paused, set something down on the earthen floor with a soft thud, and then receded into the distance. Curious as to what had happened, Joseph tried once more to open his eyes, but the darkness would not lift. In the past, he would have given up, thinking it must not be God’s will. But this time, he clung to the hope that had found him, refusing to let go. After several attempts, the darkness slowly faded, and the world grew brighter. The evening sky glowed red, filling his gaze. In the distance, he saw the girl who had given him hope and made him reflect on himself. She was walking away with a water jug balanced on her head. Joseph had seen her at the well before, but she had never caught his eye—she was not especially pretty or well-dressed. And suddenly, she appeared to him in a light that made her more beautiful than he had ever realised.
He found himself unable to look away until she vanished behind a building. Lowering his gaze, he noticed a small, roughly hewn wooden bowl beside him, its fresh water gently rippling inside. The ripples in the bowl seemed to echo in Joseph’s heart, swelling into a wave of emotion. He found himself wondering: Why was she so kind to him? Might she like him?
His heart fluttered, but when he looked at himself, he gave a bitter smile. Who would care for a man as dirty as he was? It could not mean anything special. Perhaps she simply felt sorry for a sweaty stranger napping by the well, or perhaps she wanted him to wake up and go home. Long ago, Rebekah had given water to Abraham’s servant when he was tired—perhaps this girl was simply showing kindness, just as Rebekah had. That was probably all it was.
Yet still, even if there was no special intention, her words and this small act of kindness meant more to Joseph than anything else after such a hard day. No matter how insignificant and unremarkable the little wooden bowl appeared, to Joseph, weary and thirsty in both body and soul, it was as if he had been given living water—life itself.
Even if she had meant nothing by it, if such a simple act could revive someone like himself, then perhaps even a life as small and unremarkable as his could become a source of hope for another. Even if he could never do anything great or change the world, or even hope for an ordinary life like everyone else—if, through the days given to him, he could bring hope to someone in pain, would that not be enough? That, he realised, was the life his parents had hoped he would lead, and the life God desired for him as well.
Joseph lifted the bowl to his lips. The cool, fresh water slid down his throat, quenching not only his physical thirst but soothing the deepest longing of his heart. Its refreshing taste calmed the turmoil that had been burning within him—a moment he would never forget, for he had nearly turned away from God. He looked up at the sky, and as he offered a prayer of thanks, tears of true joy—so different from the ones he had forced back earlier—ran down his face.
The wooden bowl she had left behind—so common, so often regarded as dishonourable by others—became to Joseph a vessel of honour beyond compare. It was a sign: not only the bowl, but the girl herself, would one day become a vessel for honour. Though she seemed like any ordinary country girl, through the journey of her life, God was preparing her to be used for every good work.
* * *
After seeing Mary at the well, Joseph’s worries melted away. Determined to live each day with gratitude as she did, he began to look for things he could thank God for in every moment, however small. As he practised this, he found that the tight knots of comparison and resentment in his heart slowly loosened. Joseph wanted, even in some small way, to repay the girl who had brought such a change to his life.
From then on, Joseph would pass by her house on his way home from work. He soon realised that her family’s situation was even more difficult than he had imagined. Mary’s father, having injured his back, was unable to move easily, and the rest of the family worked as tenant farmers and took on countless odd jobs, piling up work outside the house every evening. Sometimes, Joseph would see her siblings come out to fetch another bundle of work, their faces thin and pale, likely from not having enough to eat. With living expenses, treatment costs, and taxes, their lives were always a struggle, no matter how hard they worked.
During Sabbath worship at the synagogue, Joseph would wonder what he could do to help Mary’s family. God had always commanded justice for the poor and the weak, and Joseph felt it was right to offer what help he could to those worse off than himself. So, whenever he was paid, he would buy generous amounts of grain and food and leave them secretly at Mary’s door under the cover of night.
No one ever noticed or praised him for it, but watching Mary’s siblings grow healthier each day was reward enough. As Joseph continued to live with this quiet joy, he found that complaints no longer escaped his lips, no matter how difficult things became. Noticing his hard work and cheerful spirit, the foreman soon made him the supervisor of a small work crew and increased his wages. Grateful for this unexpected blessing, Joseph was glad to be able to help Mary’s family even more.
Outwardly, little had changed in his circumstances, but inwardly, his life was utterly transformed. The days of darkness and frustration faded away, replaced by new days filled with light and hope.
* * *
Weeks passed. One day, Joseph found himself in unusually high spirits. He finished work earlier than usual, and the merchant, now familiar with him, gave him a generous measure of grain. Even after buying all sorts of vegetables and perfectly ripe fruit at the market, the bundle slung over one shoulder felt remarkably light. Buoyed by a sense of anticipation, as though something good were about to happen, Joseph climbed the mountain path to Nazareth. With each step, a cheerful rhythm echoed beneath his feet, and a tune escaped his lips as he hummed softly to himself. His robe fluttered in the breeze, dancing to the melody, and his steps felt as light as if he were walking on air.
Arriving in Nazareth a little earlier than usual, Joseph hesitated, unsure whether to go to Mary’s house straight away or stop by his own place first and drop by later, as he usually did. If he went at night, he could leave the food unnoticed, but the fresh ingredients might lose their quality. On the other hand, if he went now, there was a risk of being seen, but Mary’s family would have a much better dinner. One way was safer but brought less joy; the other was a little risky, but promised far greater happiness. For Joseph, the answer was clear. He decided he would simply be more careful and made his way to Mary’s house.
When he arrived, Joseph checked to make sure no one was around, then crept quietly up to the door. Only after looking around once more did he gently set the bundle down on the ground. As the tension in his chest began to ease, he finally became aware of the sounds of dinner being prepared inside. The scent of food drifting through the door made his empty stomach ache with longing.
Unconsciously, Joseph swallowed. If he left now, he would go home to eat alone—not a real meal, but merely something to fill his belly. For a moment, he imagined what it would be like to sit at a table like theirs, sharing a warm meal with family. The thought made him feel oddly forlorn, and though he tried to leave, he found himself unable to move. He simply didn’t want to rush back to another lonely evening so soon.
He wondered if Mary was inside. Pressing his ear gently to the door, he strained to catch even the faintest trace of her voice. Just as all his attention was focused on the sounds within, he suddenly sensed someone behind him. Startled, he turned—and there was Mary, carrying a water jug, just as she had appeared that day.
She looked wary, and Joseph froze in place, his heart pounding and his body refusing to move. As he tried desperately to do something—anything—he stumbled over the bundle he had left on the ground and fell hard, landing on his backside. His face grew hot with embarrassment.
While Joseph floundered, Mary set her water jug down, a subtle expression crossing her face as if she had realised something. In that moment, Joseph scrambled to his feet, dust flying from his clothes as he stood up too quickly. Only then did he become painfully aware of how foolish he must have looked—caught in such a suspicious pose, dirty and sweaty from a long day’s work, his clothes covered in dust. He felt a deep shame, not just for his awkward actions, but also for his own shabby appearance: tired, grimy, and so unlike the person he wished to be.
Was it a mistake to come so early and get caught? Should he have gone home to wash and change first? Why had he acted like this? Of course she would think he was strange—who wouldn’t be suspicious of a man with his ear pressed to their door?
A thousand thoughts flashed through his mind like lightning, each one leaving a fresh mark of shame. The storm of embarrassment settled over his heart, darkening everything inside him. And then, through that cloud, Mary’s voice reached him—the very same voice that had once led him from darkness into light.
“Hey.”
“Hello…”
“Are you the one who’s been helping us all this time?”
“…Yes.”
“Thank you. You’ve helped us a lot.”
Relief washed over Joseph, and before he knew it, a smile spread across his lips. Trying to hide it only made his expression more awkward, though he was unaware of this. In that moment, he simply rejoiced in the ray of sunlight that had broken through his clouds, offering silent thanks to God for this moment.
Then Mary spoke again.
“But I wish you wouldn’t do this any more.”
“…What?”
“It doesn’t feel right to accept so much help from someone we hardly know, for no real reason.”
“No, it’s not without a reason…”
“After seeing what you just did, even if you have a reason, I doubt it’s a good one.”
Her voice grew firmer now, so different from before that Joseph felt as if he were being scolded. He had only wanted to help, out of kindness, asking for nothing in return. That was enough for him. But how could he prove it? How could he clear away Mary’s misunderstanding?
The sunlight that had filled his heart vanished, swept away by storm clouds. From those dark clouds, rain poured down—each heavy drop striking his chest and sending ripples of pain through him. The ripples became waves, battering him with accusations:
You’re hopeless. Good intentions? Don’t fool yourself. You know what you really wanted. You thought if you impressed her, she might love you. Idiot—wake up. Who would ever love a penniless man like you?
These words were the voices of all the guilt and low self-esteem that had weighed him down for years. Wounds he thought had healed split open once again, and like a levee collapsing under a flood, his weakened heart could no longer hold back the torrent. He felt himself about to break.
At that moment, God’s words suddenly came to mind: “The waters will no more become a flood to destroy all flesh.”
It was the very promise God had given to Noah—the covenant sealed with a rainbow in the sky.
And just like that rainbow after the storm, one steadfast feeling remained in Joseph’s heart: the hope that had freed him from his miserable past. Joseph opened his bundle and took out something wrapped in clean cloth. He unwrapped it and revealed the rough but precious wooden bowl.
“Do you remember this?”
“That’s…”
“It’s the bowl you used to give me water at the well.”
“…”
“I was so grateful that day, I wanted to repay you.”
“It was nothing… you don’t have to repay me.”
“It may have seemed like nothing to you, but to me, it was the greatest gift. I have wandered far from home, suffering many things along the way. I was looked down on as a poor wanderer, worked hard and often went unpaid. I even worked for fellow Jews who exploited me more harshly than foreigners, and I met many who only drew near to take what little I had. The more these things happened, the more exhausted I became. When I saw those who had turned away from God prospering, I began to doubt the path I had chosen. In that way, I found myself living in a hell of my own making.”
“…”
“But your selfless kindness that day saved me when I was at my lowest. Looking at that bowl, I realised that even a life as small and insignificant as mine could still become a great help to someone else. That realisation changed everything for me.”
Mary was silent for a moment, then shook her head.
“I don’t think it was that important… but I understand what you mean. I’m sorry for getting upset earlier. But I think you’ve already done enough.”
“I just want to help. Can’t you let me?”
“I believe God has a reason for giving us this difficult time. With my father injured and everyone in the family having to work, of course it hasn’t been easy. But holding on to the hope that there is something God wants to show us through these hardships has helped us endure. That’s why I worry that accepting help right now, when we’re meant to face and learn from this season, might not be the best thing for us.”
“…”
“I really am grateful for what you’ve done. But from now on, we want to try handling things on our own.”
Hearing that his actions might actually be hindering her family’s growth, Joseph realised that his heart to keep helping might not have come from God, but from his own desire—even his own longing.
“I might have been too blunt. I hope I didn’t hurt you…”
“No, you’re right. I was only thinking of myself.”
“Well, we’ll never forget your kindness. We’ll repay it someday.”
“All right…”
Joseph bowed his head in farewell and turned to leave. He forced a smile, but it only made his face look even more awkward and strained than before.
The passages from Genesis 9:15 quoted in this narrative are taken directly from the World English Bible (WEBBE) translation.
