A Journey of One Thousand Miles: the Story of Ruth and Naomi Read online

  Ruth now drew a breath and turned to her mother-in-law. “Let me go to the fields and pick up the leftover grain behind anyone in whose eyes I can find favor.” Her mother-in-law had been teaching her the laws of pe’ah and leqet, laws of the Torah, the sacred text of the Yisrael nation, whose details required one to leave the corners of their field and the gleanings that fall during the harvest for the poor, the landless and dispossessed.

  Even so, a lone woman would be putting her self at some risk to try and gather grain. While most, if not all, of the people would show her the requisite kindness, it would only take one ruffian to take advantage of Ruth’s lack of protection. Yet they surely could not live on these khubezah seeds for very long.

  Naomi sighed. With a slight nod of her head, she consented, “Go ahead, my daughter. May the Guardian of Yisrael watch over you.”

  Ruth rose from her grinding and brushed off the front of her dress, a simple wool gabardine whose original color had now faded to a bleached cream. She checked her head scarf, tucking the stray locks of hair under coarse fabric. Recognizing the concern on her mother-in-laws face, Ruth walked over to her and hugged her mother-in-law’s arm. With a kiss to her cheek, she whispered, “I’ll be fine. The Almighty will guide my way.”

  As Ruth walked through the fields, her thoughts turned inward. She was happy. It was true that things were difficult, she couldn’t remember when was the last time she wore a decent dress, but she knew that she was exactly where she needed to be. Ruth recalled an expression from her youth, ‘nothing comes without its price.’ The path to true happiness, wholeness, was fraught with difficulties. She hadn’t any doubts. The Holy One of Yisrael was guiding her steps. She never felt more complete.

  The early morning sun was warm; spring was transforming into summer. The fields of barley, which only weeks ago were still green, glowed golden in the morning light. Even the wheat had started to ripen. Ruth saw several fields full of harvesters. She also recognized, in several places, where poor people were following the harvesters, collecting what they could, but she continued on.

  Finally she came to a large field. There were many harvesters, as well as a good contingent of needy, both men and women. She watched the harvesters and the foreman for a few pregnant moments, before deciding that this is the field where she would try her luck. Ruth walked over to the foreman, a young man close to Ruth’s own age. As she approached, he turned to face her, but his eyes focused on the ground in front of her. Ruth was touched by the gesture of modesty. It made her heart light that even poor women would be afforded such honor and respect.

  “Please let me glean and gather the sheaves from behind the harvesters,” she asked meekly, conscious of her accented pronunciation of the “Holy Tongue,” as the children of Yisrael called their language. The foreman merely nodded and pointed to a place in the row of women who were already doing the same thing. Without another word, Ruth hurried to where he had indicated.

  Ruth fell into line with the other women collecting the fallen sheaves. A few of the closer women acknowledged her with a friendly head gesture; they were too distant to exchange greetings respectably, and too busy to break from their work. Ruth found a rhythm and worked diligently the entire morning, collecting as much as her arms could carry.

  As time passed, one of the harvesters noticed Ruth. He turned to his fellow worker. “Who’s that?” he asked, with clear delight in his voice. She’s beautiful.”

  “Keep your eyes in their sockets, N’muel. It’s not proper to stare, and anyway, she’s Naomi’s daughter-in-law, and she’s a Moavi convert. You can’t marry her anyway.”

  “Ah, that’s her. I heard about her,” he said, half to himself. Then to his colleague he protested, “And I didn’t mean it that way.” There was an edge of embarrassment in his voice now, “It’s just that she has a certain grace about her like …” He searched for the words, “I don’t know, like the elders, maybe.” He paused, and then the question came to him, “Anyway, why not?”

  “Why not what?”

  “Why couldn’t I marry her?” adding quickly, “if I wanted to, that is?”

  “Don’t you know your Law? It says clearly, ‘Lo yavo `amoni umo_avi bi-q’hal Adn, gam dor `asiri lo yavo lahem bi-q’hal Adn `ad`olam. An Amoni or a Moavi can not come into the congregation of the Almighty, even to the tenth generation, they can not enter the congregation, ever.’”

  “Then how did MaHlon marry her?” N’muel asked innocently.

  His partner smiled ruefully. “I guess he thought she was pretty too.” Then he added, “Maybe he didn’t attend his lessons and forgot like you.”

  N’muel smiled, “Well, she’s pretty enough to make someone forget.”

  “I thought you weren’t looking at her that way.”

  “We should stop this,” declared N’muel, “this isn’t proper. Even if we can’t marry her, she’s still a convert and deserves our respect. Or did you forget that lesson?” he asked playfully.

  “W’ahav’tem eth ha-ger … Therefore, you should love the proselyte,” stated his companion.

  The two men stopped their conversation and rejoined their task, though occasionally N’muel gave a glance over his shoulder at Ruth and shook his head woefully.

  As midday approached, a small group of men approached the field, commanding the attention of everyone there. When they were within four amoth of the workers, the man at the center of the retinue shouted a greeting, “Adn imakhem! The Holy One be with you.”

  “Yivarekh’kha Adn! May the Holy One bless you,” the workers returned, almost in unison.

  “Who’s that?” whispered Ruth to no one in particular.

  One of the women nearby heard her and answered in surprise, “What? You don’t recognize the elder, Boaz? Why he’s the Father of the Great Court, and the owner of this field.”

  Ruth looked with awe. Boaz. She remembered the name. Someone had mentioned him to Naomi when they had returned. He was a cousin of Elimelekh. They also called him “Ebtsan,” and he sat at the head of all of Yisrael. Ruth gave a prayer of thanks that the Holy One had led her to his field.

  Boaz was not very tall, but his stature commanded a certain presence. His white flowing beard and creased face bespoke of age, yet his body was far from bent. There was a spring in his every step and a light in his eyes that made them seem to dance with joy. All the men of his retinue, Ruth assumed them to be either his sons or his students, were transfixed on his every word.

  Ruth understood why. She had never seen anyone like him before. Despite his simple outwards appearance, with only a staff and shawl marking his office, Boaz seemed to glow with an inner light. When Ruth’s eyes met his, she recognized the same light of holiness that brought her to this people, only with Boaz its radiance was as intense as seventy suns. A gasp escaped from her lips.

  The foreman had left his post to meet the retinue of the elder. After the initial exchange of greetings and the day’s general report, Boaz asked the foreman about Ruth. “Whose young woman is that?” he inquired, for something about her resonated with him as if he recognized her soul.

  “She is the Moavith that returned from Moav with Naomi, Elimelekh’s wife.”

  “How did she end up here?” Boaz asked.

  “I don’t know,” the foreman shrugged, “She showed up in the morning, came to me and asked, ‘Please let me glean and gather among the sheaves behind the harvesters.’ I sent her to work with the women and she has worked steadily from the early morning till now, with only one short rest in the field shelter.”

  “Call her over,” requested Boaz. The foreman nodded to a young boy, who raced to where Ruth stood. When he reported his instructions, she was visibly shaken. Hesitantly, she came over to the group of men.

  “Ken, adoni. Yes, my lord,” she addressed Boaz.

  Boaz offered a reassuring smile. “Biti, my daughter,” he began, waiting for Ruth’s anxiety to subs
ide. “Halo sh’ma’`at. Listen to me,” he continued gently. “I request that you don’t go and glean in another field; you can meet all your needs here. You should return here every day. Stay with the other women under my care. Watch the field where the men are harvesting and stay with the women. I have instructed the men that they should not harass or bother you in anyway. And when you are thirsty, don’t hesitate to drink from the water jars which the men have filled.”

  Ruth shuddered and tears moistened her eyes as she listened to Boaz speak. When he finished she dropped to her knees and bowed until her face touched the ground. Upon rising to her knees, she exclaimed, “Madu’`a matsati Hen b’`enkha? Why have I found such favor in your eyes that you would give such notice to me, a nakh’riyah, a stranger and foreigner?”

  Boaz offered another gentle smile. “I’ve been told about all that you have done for your mother-in-law since the death of your husband – of how you left your mother and your father, your homeland to come and live with a people you did not know before.” He paused and Ruth felt as if he had peered into the very depths of her soul. “May the Lord Almighty repay you for all you’ve done. May you be richly rewarded by the Holy One of Yisrael, under whose wings you have taken refuge.”

  Ruth’s voice was barely a whisper. Her entire body seemed to shake with emotion. “May I continue to find favor in your eyes, my lord.” She looked up towards the elder, “You have given me comfort and have spoken so kindly to your humble servant, though I don’t have even the standing of your maidservants.”

  “Barukh ha-ba-ah, biti. Welcome, my daughter,” Boaz offered, before returning his attention to the foreman. Ruth understood that the interview was over and returned to her work. Tears of happiness creased her face for the rest of the day.

  When Boaz sat down under the field shelter to eat his mid-afternoon meal, his eyes scanned his companions. He had overheard several snippets of conversation concerning the Moavith, and the prohibition in the Torah to bring them into the congregation of Yisrael. Was she fit to break bread with? Was it permitted to drink her wine? What did the prohibition involve, exactly? Could one be a proselyte from Moav at all? Did it apply equally to men and women from Moav? No one from Moav, to anyone’s recollection, had ever accepted the Holy One and His Torah before.

  Boaz refrained from engaging the topic. Despite the fact that he had a clear tradition from his fathers and teachers, he knew to broach the topic might open endless discussion and debate which would spin in circles. Instead, when they sat down to eat, he sent a young boy to call to Ruth, “Come over here to break bread and dip it in wine vinegar.”

  At the sound of his invitation, all conversation stopped. Theory was theory, but no Father of the Court would invite her to eat if it wasn’t an already decided ruling. They all understood the implications of his invitation.

  Ruth meekly approached the diners. At the women’s table, a large friendly woman gestured to her and moved over making a space for Ruth. She bowed politely and sat down. Boaz passed to her the dish of roasted grain and Ruth ate heartily, yet there was plenty left over when she had finished. She modestly placed the leftovers into her sack.

  Ruth got up to glean, offering her gratitude as she did so. When she had returned to the field, Boaz instructed his men, “Even if she gathers among the sheaves, don’t embarrass her, instead, without her seeing, pull out some stalks from the bundles, and leave them for her to pick up, and don’t chastise her at all. We are taught not to oppress the proselyte, even with words. ‘W’gher lo thoneh w’lo thil’Hatsenu.”

  As the sun began to set the harvesters retired from their labors. The remaining sheaves were removed to the threshing floor and the few remaining poor headed for home. Boaz had left the field shortly after the afternoon meal, but Ruth stayed till the last of the harvesters had gone home.

  When she was alone she gathered her sheaves of barley in a large shawl and carried them to a small outcropping of flat rocks near the field. She spread them out in a row. Then taking a small log, she rolled it over her sheaves back and forth, until the majority of it was threshed. She then collected the seeds into the shawl. She lifted the sack onto her tired shoulders, she estimated that she had gathered a full efah, and began her return to the town of BehtleHem and her mother-in-law.

  Ruth approached the glow of the fire pit outside the cave where she and Naomi were staying. Naomi was sitting outside the cave, with her back against the rock face. Her chin rested on her chest and Ruth heard the rhythmic breathing of sleep. It seemed that her mother-in-law had fallen asleep waiting for her daughter-in-law to return. Ruth placed the sack on the ground and gently stroked Naomi’s arm. She awoke with a start. Ruth had pulled her from a distant dream. Naomi’s eyes took a moment to focus on her daughter-in-law’s face and the present.

  “Where have you been?” she asked concern on her face, “I was beginning to get worried.”

  Ruth smiled at her mother-in-law’s concern. “I’m sorry, Mother, but I found a good field and worked all day. I’ve brought you the sack as well as some leftover roasted grain.” Ruth presented her mother-in-law with the remains of her lunch.

  Naomi drew a breath. “Oh my,” she said in wonder, her hands reaching for the roasted grain. She forced herself from wolfing down the food. “Where did you glean today? Where did you work? Blessed be the man who took notice of you!” The grain seemed to bring color to her parched face. Her eyes then fell on the sack full of grain, and she shook her head in wonder. How had Ruth carried such a heavy burden?

  “I worked in the fields of Boaz today,” Ruth said while examining her mother-in-law’s face, waiting for the reaction. She received one. Naomi’s eyes lit up.

  “May the Almighty bless him!” she practically shouted. The Holy One has not stopped showing kindness to the living nor the dead. Do you know that that man is our kinsman?”

  “Yes, I heard one of the women tell you when we arrived.”

  “I think he’s even one of our redeemers,” Naomi added, referring to the kinsmen who are required to take the childless widow of their brethren in a levirate marriage, so that their name and their inheritance will continue.

  Ruth shared in her mother-in-law’s excitement, though she wasn’t sure of the implications of what her mother-in-law suggested. There wasn’t any such thing as a redeemer or levirate marriage in Moav. Yet, clearly her mother-in-law was excited about something. The tiredness of the day dissipated. Ruth sat beside Naomi and began to reveal the events of the entire day. She told her mother-in-law everything, from the way Boaz appeared, through his invitation, to the afternoon meal.

  “He even said to me, ‘Stay here, with my workers until they finish harvesting all my grain,” Ruth said as she finished her story.

  Naomi couldn’t contain her excitement, “It will be good for you, daughter, to stay in his field and go with his young women, lest in someone else’s field you might be harmed. The Almighty has clearly guided your steps. Barukh ha-qadosh barukh hu. Blessed is the Holy One of Yisrael.”

  Ruth went out every day to the fields of Boaz and stayed close to the young women throughout the barley and wheat harvests, and each night she returned to live with her mother-in-law. Each day she returned to a more and more rejuvenated Naomi. Slowly, both body and spirit were healed from the wounds of Moav.

  As her spirit returned, and she worried less and less of her present circumstances, her mind turned towards the future, both hers and her daughter’s-in-law’s, and slowly, a plan began to develop.

  Chapter 3

  Harvesting

  Three months later

  “I was thinking,” began Naomi as she walked over to where her daughter was preparing pitas to place in their fire pit.

  Ruth looked up and smiled. She was happy to see her mother-in-law returning to herself. She had color in her cheeks and light in her eyes.

  Naomi returned the smile and began again. “I
was thinking, daughter,” she said tenderly, “shouldn’t I be trying to find you a place to rest, a home, where you will be provided for.”

  Ruth laughed, as if her mother-in-law’s desire was enough to find her a husband.

  “No,” rebuked Naomi, “it is not such a remote dream. Isn’t it Boaz who has provided for you and whose young women you have been following in the fields? He is a relative of ours, and a redeemer. ”

  “I still don’t know what that is really,” answered Ruth.

  Naomi paused and looked at her daughter-in-law. “Oh, of course not, how could you?”

  “Well,” she began, “according to our Torah - our Law, when a man dies childless...” The memory still hurt, but less so. “When a man dies childless, his brother is obligated to marry his widow, and the son from their union is considered to be the deceased’s heir. It is a kindness that has no equal for it allows for his brother’s house to continue. If there aren’t any brothers, like inheritance it falls to the nearest kinsman to redeem the widow, as well as claim the inheritance for their child.”

  Ruth was dumbstruck. She had never heard of anything like this before. Yet, like everything else she learned about these people, it confirmed her belief that they were divinely guided. “What man would take on such a responsibility for his deceased kinsman?”

  “Well,” began Naomi, “it is ordained from the Holy One, and that’s good enough for many, however…” she stopped.

  “Yes?” Ruth urged.

  “Well, there is a way out of it, actually. If a man doesn’t want his brother’s widow, or she refuses to marry him, then he must perform a special ceremony, called halitsah, which frees her to marry another. However, it is considered shameful for a man to refuse to establish his brother’s house, and he must take a special name if he does so.”

  “What is it?”