Mika's Song, Chapter 22
Mika could hardly contain his excitement. After two more long weeks traveling through Yisra'el land from Damascus, they were finally approaching Jerusalem. They were so close now that they didn't bother traveling only at night. In fact, the star they had watched and followed so carefully through the long desert nights had faded until they could no longer see it, even through their glass. Sometimes they were still tempted to doubt, especially because, this close to the Yisra'el Royal city, none of the travelers they met seemed to know anything about a new born king. But they could always count on faithful Master Bobac, who's spirits never faded in spite of the fact he could neither see nor walk anymore.
The caravan moved slowly along with the afternoon traffic up towards the crest of a low mountain. As they neared the top, Mika felt like he would explode. Leaping off Master Ghasaan's camel without warning, he dropped onto the dusty road and then dashed ahead. At the top of the road, Mika stopped dead in the street to take in the scene before him. Someone yelled and pushed him roughly, so he ran off to the side where the ground was higher, his heart pounding in his ears.
The first thing he saw was a beautiful white building as clean as the snow on the mountains to the north. "That--" master Siamak said breathlessly, hurrying up beside him, "that must be the temple of Solomon, the Yisra'el's greatest pride!"
It was so bright in the afternoon sun made it practically glow, shining so brightly off the golden tenets that Mika had to squint and finally raise his hands to shade his eyes. The rest of the Caravan had stopped on the side now, and other Maga were joining Mika. They all seemed to be out of breath, even though they had mostly been riding them camels. The site of the holy temple set all their hearts racing.
"There!" Master Toutak pointed across the city, and Mika squinted to follow his gaze, "That must be the palace!"
Against the further wall of the city, and north from the temple was a high stone structure with three high towers in the northwest corner of the city. Mika stared for a long time, heart racing, imagining the Child King in his chamber. What would he look like? Would he be wearing tiny royal robes? Would he smile or would he hide behind his nurse's skirt? Would they be shown right in, or would they have to make an appointment? Would he, the son of a lowly herdman even be allowed to see the king? He fingered his gold coin, suddenly feeling small and foolish. Perhaps they would laugh at him when he offered his small coin, or scold him as they had when he tried to play his hand-made dap at the festival.
Mika was quiet as they went back to the royal road. His heart was so full of hope, anticipation, and fear he could have cried as he watched the dust puff up around his bare feed.
"Mika," the boy looked up suddenly and found that he was walking close beside Master Bobac's camel.
"Mika," the old man said again, apparently sensing the boy's troubled heart, "all men are the same to the Ancient. He does not care more for great men than he does for small goat boys."
Mika squinted up for a moment. "But he is a king!" the boy said.
"He is the king of all, don't forget."
Soon the caravan was entering the city gate, finding the stables, and then on foot moving with the crowd toward the temple. They had agreed that they would worship and sacrifice to the god of the Yisra'el before going to the palace to inquire after the new king. The Magä wished to find a bath for cleansing and refreshing a well.
As they approached the steps to the temple, the sides of the street became increasingly crowded with merchants and beggars who called out their wares and asked for money. A man with twisted feet and a cane shuffled remarkably quickly from his place against the wall and held out a pitiful hand toward Master Ghasaan. The kind gentleman handed him a small coin and the beggar stopped to admire it before moving on to someone else. More beggars, many of them deformed in some way, approached the Magä, and Mika, looking around, began to realize how much the group of finely dressed gentlemen stood out from the rest of the crowd.
As the Magä stopped to purchase a sacrifice, Mika watched the people passing by. He wondered if the Yisra'el were especially generous, or it was just here, before they worshipped their God and made sacrifices, that they were motivated to give more freely. At any rate, he could see why the beggars congregated here, because they seemed to be rarely turned down.
"Do you have anything for a poor blind boy?" A voice asked near him.
Mika turned quickly and found a boy nearly his age sitting on a blanket by the wall next to him. First he was pleased to find he could understand the question. "We come from the Far East beyond the great river," Mika answered haltingly, trying out his newly acquired language skills. As he did so, he noticed that the boy gazed passed him with the vacant stare like Master Bobac.
"I--I'm sorry..." Mika tried the words he had learned in the new language.
The blind boy stood carefully and reached towards Mika. He seemed please to find a boy his size standing before him. "Where did you come from?" he asked, and Mika realized his halted speech had given him away.
"We came from the east, on the other side of the great rivers," Mika answered.
"What are you doing in our holy city?" The by asked.
"We came because--" Mika halted. All along the way when he tried to answer that question, people looked at him strangely, as though he were both dirty and mad, "--we came in search of the god of the Yisra'el." He said simply, not wanting to be ridiculed again.
"You've come to the right place," said the other boy. "This is the greatest temple in the world."
Mika squatted down as the boy sat again. He looked hard at the boy. His eyes were dark and lifeless. His clothes, not much different than Mika's, showed him to be a lowly birth. In front of him was a dirty cup with two small coins in it.
"I was born like this," said the boy, as if answering Mika's unasked question. "The priests say it's because someone in my family sinned, but my family has made as many offerings as they can afford and nothing changes."
Mika listened intently. He had heard many stories of the gods striking people with blindness for their unfaithfulness, but he had never thought about why a child would be born blind.
"My mother doesn't believe it," he boy went on. "She says Yahweh is good and kind, and if am faithful, perhaps when the Messiah comes I will be healed."
Mika's heart quickened. "The Messiah?" He asked quickly.
"Yes, the deliverer will come and rescue us from--" here the boy lowered his voice suddenly, "from the Romans."
Mika had noticed the soldiers in the streets and along the roads even before they came to the city. "Why are they here?" He asked quietly.
"They rule us and oppress us and tell us what we may and may not do," the boy whispered, "But when Messiah come he will lead the Yisra'el to victory over the Romans and all the Goyim."
Mika suddenly felt like changing the subject. "You think the Messiah will heal you?" He asked.
"He comes with 'healing in his wings', that's what my mother told me," the boy answered, then he lowered his voice to a whisper again, "Mother thinks the Messiah is almost here," he whispered, "She says the time is near."
Mika was quiet for a minute, then he finally blurted, "The Magä, those are my masters, they believe he is here now. We have followed his star and they have seen shining messengers from heaven who told them the Messiah is born."
A look of amazement came across the blind boys face and he was speechless for a moment. "Born?" He said slowly, thoughtfully. "But why haven't the elders told us?"
Mika didn't know the answer.
"Maybe because we are sinful," the boy said sadly. "Because we are poor and I am blind, the priests do not believe we are worthy."
Then reaching forward he fingered the two small coins in his cup. "It's been a slow day," he said mournfully. "Father will scold me for not going out in the street and asking for coins, but if don't like to be pushed and jostled by the crowd." He said. "I don't suppose you have anything, being a servant..."
Mika's hand went suddenly to the gold coin wrapped carefully in his pocket. He hesitated only for a moment, then withdrawing his cherished coin, he dropped it as loudly as possible into the boys cup. As the blind boy snatched it up excitedly, fingering it's cold heaviness, Mika jumped up and ran toward the temple, where the Magä had long since abandoned him.
The first thing he saw was a beautiful white building as clean as the snow on the mountains to the north. "That--" master Siamak said breathlessly, hurrying up beside him, "that must be the temple of Solomon, the Yisra'el's greatest pride!"
It was so bright in the afternoon sun made it practically glow, shining so brightly off the golden tenets that Mika had to squint and finally raise his hands to shade his eyes. The rest of the Caravan had stopped on the side now, and other Maga were joining Mika. They all seemed to be out of breath, even though they had mostly been riding them camels. The site of the holy temple set all their hearts racing.
"There!" Master Toutak pointed across the city, and Mika squinted to follow his gaze, "That must be the palace!"
Against the further wall of the city, and north from the temple was a high stone structure with three high towers in the northwest corner of the city. Mika stared for a long time, heart racing, imagining the Child King in his chamber. What would he look like? Would he be wearing tiny royal robes? Would he smile or would he hide behind his nurse's skirt? Would they be shown right in, or would they have to make an appointment? Would he, the son of a lowly herdman even be allowed to see the king? He fingered his gold coin, suddenly feeling small and foolish. Perhaps they would laugh at him when he offered his small coin, or scold him as they had when he tried to play his hand-made dap at the festival.
Mika was quiet as they went back to the royal road. His heart was so full of hope, anticipation, and fear he could have cried as he watched the dust puff up around his bare feed.
"Mika," the boy looked up suddenly and found that he was walking close beside Master Bobac's camel.
"Mika," the old man said again, apparently sensing the boy's troubled heart, "all men are the same to the Ancient. He does not care more for great men than he does for small goat boys."
Mika squinted up for a moment. "But he is a king!" the boy said.
"He is the king of all, don't forget."
Soon the caravan was entering the city gate, finding the stables, and then on foot moving with the crowd toward the temple. They had agreed that they would worship and sacrifice to the god of the Yisra'el before going to the palace to inquire after the new king. The Magä wished to find a bath for cleansing and refreshing a well.
As they approached the steps to the temple, the sides of the street became increasingly crowded with merchants and beggars who called out their wares and asked for money. A man with twisted feet and a cane shuffled remarkably quickly from his place against the wall and held out a pitiful hand toward Master Ghasaan. The kind gentleman handed him a small coin and the beggar stopped to admire it before moving on to someone else. More beggars, many of them deformed in some way, approached the Magä, and Mika, looking around, began to realize how much the group of finely dressed gentlemen stood out from the rest of the crowd.
As the Magä stopped to purchase a sacrifice, Mika watched the people passing by. He wondered if the Yisra'el were especially generous, or it was just here, before they worshipped their God and made sacrifices, that they were motivated to give more freely. At any rate, he could see why the beggars congregated here, because they seemed to be rarely turned down.
"Do you have anything for a poor blind boy?" A voice asked near him.
Mika turned quickly and found a boy nearly his age sitting on a blanket by the wall next to him. First he was pleased to find he could understand the question. "We come from the Far East beyond the great river," Mika answered haltingly, trying out his newly acquired language skills. As he did so, he noticed that the boy gazed passed him with the vacant stare like Master Bobac.
"I--I'm sorry..." Mika tried the words he had learned in the new language.
The blind boy stood carefully and reached towards Mika. He seemed please to find a boy his size standing before him. "Where did you come from?" he asked, and Mika realized his halted speech had given him away.
"We came from the east, on the other side of the great rivers," Mika answered.
"What are you doing in our holy city?" The by asked.
"We came because--" Mika halted. All along the way when he tried to answer that question, people looked at him strangely, as though he were both dirty and mad, "--we came in search of the god of the Yisra'el." He said simply, not wanting to be ridiculed again.
"You've come to the right place," said the other boy. "This is the greatest temple in the world."
Mika squatted down as the boy sat again. He looked hard at the boy. His eyes were dark and lifeless. His clothes, not much different than Mika's, showed him to be a lowly birth. In front of him was a dirty cup with two small coins in it.
"I was born like this," said the boy, as if answering Mika's unasked question. "The priests say it's because someone in my family sinned, but my family has made as many offerings as they can afford and nothing changes."
Mika listened intently. He had heard many stories of the gods striking people with blindness for their unfaithfulness, but he had never thought about why a child would be born blind.
"My mother doesn't believe it," he boy went on. "She says Yahweh is good and kind, and if am faithful, perhaps when the Messiah comes I will be healed."
Mika's heart quickened. "The Messiah?" He asked quickly.
"Yes, the deliverer will come and rescue us from--" here the boy lowered his voice suddenly, "from the Romans."
Mika had noticed the soldiers in the streets and along the roads even before they came to the city. "Why are they here?" He asked quietly.
"They rule us and oppress us and tell us what we may and may not do," the boy whispered, "But when Messiah come he will lead the Yisra'el to victory over the Romans and all the Goyim."
Mika suddenly felt like changing the subject. "You think the Messiah will heal you?" He asked.
"He comes with 'healing in his wings', that's what my mother told me," the boy answered, then he lowered his voice to a whisper again, "Mother thinks the Messiah is almost here," he whispered, "She says the time is near."
Mika was quiet for a minute, then he finally blurted, "The Magä, those are my masters, they believe he is here now. We have followed his star and they have seen shining messengers from heaven who told them the Messiah is born."
A look of amazement came across the blind boys face and he was speechless for a moment. "Born?" He said slowly, thoughtfully. "But why haven't the elders told us?"
Mika didn't know the answer.
"Maybe because we are sinful," the boy said sadly. "Because we are poor and I am blind, the priests do not believe we are worthy."
Then reaching forward he fingered the two small coins in his cup. "It's been a slow day," he said mournfully. "Father will scold me for not going out in the street and asking for coins, but if don't like to be pushed and jostled by the crowd." He said. "I don't suppose you have anything, being a servant..."
Mika's hand went suddenly to the gold coin wrapped carefully in his pocket. He hesitated only for a moment, then withdrawing his cherished coin, he dropped it as loudly as possible into the boys cup. As the blind boy snatched it up excitedly, fingering it's cold heaviness, Mika jumped up and ran toward the temple, where the Magä had long since abandoned him.