Читать книгу The Library of Work and Play: Housekeeping - Elizabeth Hale Gilman - Страница 12

Table of Contents

If we sailed across the Atlantic Ocean, and then sailed as far east on the Mediterranean Sea as we could, we should come to Asia. Then if we travelled into Asia for a little distance, we should come to a small lake. Long ago, this lake was called the Sea of Galilee, and one of the little towns on the shore was named Bethsaida. In this town, almost one thousand, nine hundred years ago, a boy lived and played and went to school. His uncles had boats on the lake, for they were fishermen, and the boy played in the boats, and sometimes his Uncle Andrew let him go out with him to the fishing.

Bethsaida was a busy, little town. There was always something to do. The lake and the boats and the fishermen and the nets were always there; then sometimes Roman soldiers marched into the town, and merchants from far-off countries came to trade in the market-place. Now and again men came who gathered crowds round them, and talked loud and shook their clenched fists and tore their long robes and kept the town restless for days together.

The boy liked to go with his uncles to listen to these men. He could not understand what they were talking about, but the crowd buzzed and jostled, and sometimes groaned and yelled. It was very exciting. Uncle Peter was often angry about what he heard these men say, but Uncle Andrew just stroked his beard and went back to the boats.

The people called a man who spoke to them in this way a "Rabbi." This meant in their language, a master—a man who knew a great deal about something.

One day, a Rabbi came to Bethsaida, who acted differently from the others. He did not make speeches in the market-place, and often when people were crowding to hear him, he went away on the lake or into the hills. If they followed him, he would sometimes stand in a boat by the shore, or on a hillside, and talk to them; and he could make sick people well. He liked children; and the boy had seen him once stop in the road and talk to a woman. That was a very queer thing for a great Rabbi to do.

The boy saw very little of his uncles after this new Rabbi came, for they followed him everywhere he went and seemed to be his close friends. When they did come home they spoke of him as if they did not know just what to say, yet always it seemed as if they could have said more if they had thought it well.

One day, the Rabbi and his friends had gone up into the hills, and people from the towns on the lake, and from the country round it, had gone out to find him; for those who had seen him wanted nothing so much as to see him again, and those who had not seen him could not rest until they had found out what the others went to see. The boy had been playing in the boats that morning, which nowadays were most of the time pulled up on the shore, and when he saw some of the neighbours setting off for the hills, he made up his mind to go too. First, though, he thought, "Uncle Andrew will be hungry, and so shall I," and he went home and got some food to take with him.

The way up through the hills was long and steep. The boy and his neighbours were tired enough before they came in sight of a great crowd of people in a green hollow of the hills. It was strange but, though there were thousands of people all standing together, they did not make a sound. As the boy came a little nearer, he heard the Rabbi's voice in the stillness. He wondered why the people kept so quiet. He did not realize that he was keeping very quiet himself.

After a while he no longer heard the Rabbi's voice, and the people began to move and make a little murmur of talking. He crept through the crowd toward the group round the Rabbi where his Uncle Andrew would be. When he got there he found they were trying to think of a way to feed all these hundreds of people who were tired and hungry, and miles away from any place where they could get food. That reminded him of the luncheon he had brought, and he pushed the basket into Uncle Andrew's hand.

Uncle Andrew looked into the basket and smiled when he saw what it had in it. Then he said to the Rabbi, "There is a lad here, which hath five barley loaves and two small fishes; but what are they among so many?" All the same, though, he held out the basket to the Rabbi, as if he really thought it would be of some use to him.

The boy looked to see if the great Rabbi would be angry with Uncle Andrew for saying such a useless thing, when all the others were trying hard to think what could be done. But no; instead of that, he looked as if something had made him delightfully happy, and he said, "Make the men sit down." And they did. Then the Rabbi blessed the five little loaves and the two little fishes which he had taken out of the basket, and began to break them up and give them to those especial friends of his who were always with him. And they carried them to the people sitting on the grass, and came back for more again and again.

And there always was more.

The boy went with Uncle Andrew, back and forth, again and again. He wanted, more than anything, to help in some little way, if it were only to hold back his uncle's robe as he bent toward the people on the ground.

When they would walk back for more food, he scarcely dared go so near to the wonderful Rabbi. And yet—his heart was in his throat with the joy and wonder of it—was it not his own barley bread and fish that the Rabbi had been so glad to have, and with which he was feeding all these thousands of hungry people?

Last of all, after every one was fed, the boy sat down close to his uncle and they had some luncheon, too; but he could not take his eyes from the Rabbi's face. He looked and looked until he could not see it any more, for he had gone to sleep in the warm grass.

When he waked the crowd was moving away, and his uncle was helping gather up the food which was left. The Rabbi had gone away alone into the hills.