Demetrius' Story, Step 25

Step 25

Avishag felt great peace, unexpected, and perplexing. Initially, she’d resented the presence of Nuria. She had never wanted a servant. She wondered, was Enosh somehow displeased with how she conducted household affairs? Did he want her to be more efficient? She dared not ask him. He’d become short-tempered and uncommunicative. Whatever the case, Avishag found Nuria pleasant and obedient. She completed the chores Avishag assigned quickly and without complaint. Slowly, without fanfare, bit by bit, step by step, Nuria and Avishag developed a relationship, one that seemed to provide both of them deep-seated contentment. A gentle spirit settled over the house. Avishag and Nuria enjoyed long companionable conversations as they took care of the household needs. She and Nuria learned about each other during these long exchanges.

“So, you are from a small hamlet near Jericho?”

“Yes,” Nuria replied, “Our parents belonged to a merchant there.”

“And were you treated harshly?”

“Not really. As little children not much was expected of us. Light housekeeping mostly,” said Nuria, “But there was not enough work for us as we got older. The steward recommended that we be sold off when we became old enough to start doing real work. Our owner agreed. He wanted to make a profit before we consumed too much food.”

Nuria’s matter of fact tone of voice surprised Avishag, “What did your mother think?”

“Well, she told us to be brave and pray for a good master,” Nuria said thoughtfully, “But I could tell that she was very sad. I think I heard her crying as we left. I guess that was very hard for our mother. But of course, you know that will eventually happen when you are a slave.”

“You don’t seem to resent it,” said an astonished Avishag.

“Well, God answered my prayer. He sent me to a nice home with a good master,” answered Nuria, her head bent over some lentils she was sorting. The little stones she picked rattled on the table, as she sorted the lentils for supper. The ensuing quiet weighed heavily on Avishag.

“Poor dear child,” she said, reaching out to gently stroke Nuria’s glossy black hair.

“My mother used to do that,” said Nuria quietly, looking up and gracing Avishag with a slight smile.

Avishag quickly turned away in order to hide the sudden, hot tears that trickled down her face.