Daughter of Jerusalem by Joan Wolf

Author:Joan Wolf [Wolf, Joan]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781936034673
Amazon: 1936034670
Publisher: Worthy Book Publishers
Published: 2013-04-16T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty

Over the next few months I met and became one of a circle of very nice Jewish women. Even though Ruth never said so, I was certain she had regaled them with the “tragedy” of my separation from Daniel and forced marriage to Aaron. I didn’t like my private life being spread around town, but I recognized the advantage my story gave me.

Because they felt sorry for me, my new friends were able to overlook my years of living in Sepphoris. Deep in their hearts, most women adore a love story. Especially a sad one. All my Roman friends had grieved their hearts out for poor Dido when Aeneas deserted her.

I had loved two men and lost them both, and I didn’t want to read about or live through a love story ever again.

I had my enemies in the town, however. Some women wouldn’t speak to me and told their children loudly to “keep away from that shameless woman.” I tried not to show my hurt, but I felt it nonetheless. The fact that these women were right about me made their sneers even worse. I often thought that if my new friends knew the whole truth, they would snub me too.

Ezra bar Matthias remained my worst enemy. He was a Pharisee, part of a group that devoted itself to the strictest interpretation of the Mosaic Law. Over the centuries men like Ezra had broken down the Ten Commandments into hundreds of minute rules that covered even the smallest aspect of Jewish life. They not only endeavored to live perfect lives themselves, but they thought everyone else should be just as strict.

Ezra bar Matthias considered himself purer than pure, and whenever I happened to pass him, he would draw his robe away as if he was afraid I might contaminate him. He told everyone I was a filthy whore, a woman who had practiced every one of the deadly sins, and that just speaking to me would make the speaker unclean.

Then, one day at the market, as Ruth and I were standing in front of the cheese maker’s stall, I learned the Pharisee was not so pure after all. I felt someone’s eyes on me and turned my head to look. It was Ezra bar Matthias.

If he had been glaring at with me hatred, I would have turned back to the stall. But I saw the look in his eyes clearly, and it was a look I had seen before in the eyes of other men. I knew it well. Not hatred—lust.

I stared straight back at him, and he flushed and turned quickly away. But he knew that I had caught him, and after that he kept away from me.

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