In the Field of Grace (13 page)

She would tell Naomi of Boaz’s benevolence, and pray to God that Naomi would crawl out of the abyss of despair that paralyzed her. Ruth carried hope. Hope wrapped in a bundle provided by the unexpected generosity of a stranger.

She found Naomi sitting in the gloomy darkness of the house. She had forgotten to light a lamp and allowed the fire to go out. Not bothering to chide her, Ruth kissed Naomi on both cheeks before lighting the lamp. “Look, Mother. Look what I have brought you.”

She dropped the bulging bundle before the older woman and
untied the corners of her shawl. “Here is an ephah of barley, just for you!”

Naomi straightened her slumped back. She stared, her brows drawn together in disbelief. With the slow motions of a sleepwalker, she sifted through the grain. “So much?”

Ruth flashed a grin. “You approve? How about some dinner to celebrate?”

Naomi bit her lip. “I’m sorry. I forgot about food. There is nothing left to eat but a little lentil and chickpea. If you wait, I can make a stew.”

“No need.” Ruth pulled Naomi up and twirled with her around the room. “I brought dinner too.” She pulled out the bread and roasted grain that she had saved from the midday meal.

Naomi sank to the ground, missing the cushion without noticing. “Where did you glean today? Which field?” She tasted a single grain of barley, plump and freshly roasted. “Someone must have taken special notice of you. Who was it? May the Lord bless the man who helped you.”

Ruth set a fresh mat between them and brought a skin of water to share. As they ate, she recounted the adventures of her first day as a gleaner.

“I had no idea where to go when I left Bethlehem this morning. I walked by one field busy with harvesters. I noticed the laborers seemed silent. I thought,
there is no joy in this place
, and moved on. The field stretched over a long distance, and I began to wonder if I had made the wrong decision. Then I came upon a new field, also large and well maintained. Men and women worked together, and I heard voices speaking, and snatches of song. Someone laughed and I told myself this is where I should work.

“The foreman, a young man with a pleasant manner, is called Abel. I asked his permission to gather grain in the field behind the laborers. He asked who I was, and I told him I belonged to you. He seemed to have heard of our story and gave me leave to pick the leftover barley. I watched the other gleaners, and followed them,
hoping I would not unknowingly blunder and irritate them. At first, I made little headway, for I was behind everyone and most of the grain had been gathered by the time it came to me.

“Then a man arrived on horseback, well garbed and neatly groomed. He greeted everyone with a blessing from the Lord, and I could see from the laborers’ response that they held him in high regard. As he spoke to Abel, I realized this must be the owner of the field. The others told me his name is Boaz.”

“Boaz! That man is one of our closest relatives, first cousin to my husband, Elimelech, and one of our kinsman-redeemers. He is an honorable and worthy man, known throughout Judah for his wealth and influence.”

“What is a
kinsman-redeemer
?”

“A
goel
is a close kinsman who is expected to help a family member in times of exceptional trouble. When a relative has to sell himself into slavery because of dire financial need, a
goel
buys him back from his master and restores him to freedom. He also redeems mortgaged or lost property. In special cases, they are expected to marry the widow of a brother and have children in the name of that brother in order for his line not to perish. Some believe that responsibility should extend beyond a brother to other family members. But it is not written so in the law. Boaz is such a man to us.”

“Perhaps that explains his kindness, for you will never imagine what he did, Mother.” Ruth told Naomi everything that Boaz had undertaken on her behalf. “When he first approached me, I thought I had committed an embarrassing error, somehow, and he wished to chastise me. Then I thought perhaps he did not wish a Moabite to glean in his fields.

“But instead of casting me out, he showered me with kindness. As if all this were not enough, he insisted that I remain in his fields until the end of the harvest season! He told me not to glean anywhere else but remain with the women who work for him.”

For the first time in seven months, Naomi smiled. It softened the lines of her drawn face and washed her expression of the ravages
of bitterness. “The Lord has not neglected to show kindness to the living or the dead.”

Ruth felt the breath leave her breast, and with it, a weight she had not known she carried. It had been many days since Naomi had prayed. More still since she had spoken of the Lord with trust. She reached out and grasped her hand.

“He has not, Mother.”

A tear ran down Naomi’s cheek. She pulled her hand free from Ruth’s and wiped at it. “Daughter, you should do as Boaz suggested. Remain in his fields and stay close to his young women. They will keep you safe. Besides, they’ll be company for you. On someone else’s land, you might be harassed. Boaz will shield you from harm.”

That night, Ruth slept more soundly than she had since Mahlon became sick. She woke up refreshed, ready for the demanding labor that awaited her. Instead of dreading the day, anticipation brought a new lightness to her steps.

Naomi walked part of the way with her. “I’m going to fetch water. Tonight, we will have warm barley bread with stew for dinner.”

Ruth clasped Naomi in a long embrace, delighted to see the older woman showing an interest in life again. “I will bring you so much grain tonight, you’ll be able to bathe in it.”

Naomi patted her cheek. “I think I shall stick to water for my bath. Have a care. It will be hot today.”

Not far from Boaz’s field, Ruth heard the sound of hoofbeats, too fast to belong to a donkey. She moved to the edge of the road and turned to see who rode in such haste.

Boaz.

He slowed the beast as he came near her, and to her surprise, dismounted.

“Shalom, Ruth.”

“Shalom, my lord.”

He led the horse by the bridle and walked alongside her. “You are on the road early. The sun has just risen. Did you walk in the dark?”

“For a little while.”

He frowned. “You must take care. It can be dangerous for a woman alone. A couple of the women who work for me live near Naomi. I’ll arrange for you to come with them from now on.”

“Yes, my lord.”

They walked in silence for some minutes. A badger ran through a clump of bushes bordering the side of a narrow field, and the horse neighed, shaking its head with agitation. Boaz whispered to the beast and caressed its smooth, black pelt until it calmed.

“He is magnificent,” Ruth said. “What do you call him?”

“Shakhor. He was as black as the darkest hour of the night when he was born, and the name seemed appropriate. Do you know much about horses?”

“Everything I need to know. Dangerous on both ends and uncomfortable in the middle.”

Boaz laughed. Ruth couldn’t tear her eyes away for a moment. He was a hand taller than she, and Ruth had to look up to see him clearly. His face had transformed with the laugh; straight teeth, white as shorn ewes flashed through his trim mustache and beard, making him appear younger.

“I hadn’t thought of it like that,” he said, his mouth still softened with a smile.

His deep voice had a warm timbre, which sent a shiver down her spine. She lowered her lashes, annoyed at her own foolishness. Just because the man had been kind did not give her leave to turn into a clumsy young girl. Still, she could not deny the feeling of accomplishment that stole over her when she managed to make him laugh.

Naomi’s prediction proved right. The day grew unseasonably hot, more like high summer than midspring. The women Ruth
followed in the field paid her little attention. No one spoke to her. Boaz might find her decision to come to Bethlehem admirable, but his laborers were not as easily persuaded. The heat made everyone testy and a few verbal skirmishes broke out among the workers.

Distracted by a fierce argument, Ruth missed the sudden halt of one of the girls and plowed into her. “I beg your pardon!”

“Why don’t you watch your step, you stupid Moabite?” the girl snapped.

Ruth nodded and took a step back. Another woman bent to pick up several heads of barley, which Ruth had dropped when she had collided with the other girl, and handed them to her.

“Thank you,” Ruth said, surprised at the unexpected kindness.

“Pay no mind to Dinah. She’s mean to everyone. It’s just her way. She is twenty-five and still unmarried; it has soured her disposition.”

Ruth shrugged. “There are worse fates.”

“Like what?”

Ruth bent to pick up a stalk of grain. “Like being twenty-six and still unmarried.”

The woman laughed. She was younger than Ruth, and pretty, with long dimples that peeped at the slightest excuse. “I’m Hannah. And you are Ruth. The whole of Bethlehem has heard of you, and how you came from Moab with Naomi.”

“Do you know my mother-in-law?”

“I was a child when she left; I don’t remember her. But we live near her house. Before we began work today, the master asked that I walk with you to the field so you won’t have to come alone.” Hannah gave Ruth a curious glance.

Ruth allowed her veil to fall forward, covering the reddening of her cheeks. “I am sorry for the trouble. He was kin to my husband’s father; I suppose he feels he must watch over Naomi and me.”

Hannah shrugged. “No trouble. As long as you don’t mind Dinah’s sharp tongue, for I travel with her.”

That evening Ruth took home an even bigger armful of barley. At this rate, she and Naomi would have more than a year’s provision by the end of the harvest season, with sufficient surplus to allow them to barter for olive oil and dried fruit and nuts. Perhaps she might even be able to have the roof repaired. She felt like skipping.

In the distance, she noticed a black horse tethered to a bush at the side of the road. There was no sign of its rider. By the time she reached the animal, Boaz had still not returned. Ruth reached a cautious hand and caressed Shakhor’s soft pelt. It stopped lazily grazing on the grass and lifted its regal head to give her a disinterested look before returning to its meal. Ruth wondered at Boaz’s absence. Why had he abandoned the horse? Should she linger to find if he needed help?

She heard a sound in the bushes and tensed. A moment later, Boaz emerged, a lamb cradled in his arms.

“Ruth!” He came to an abrupt halt.

“I saw your horse and wondered if you might need assistance, my lord.”

He approached her, soothing the trembling lamb as he did. “That was thoughtful. My thanks. I saw this little fellow in trouble and stopped to rescue him. It’s one of mine.”

Ruth reached a shy hand to caress the lamb. It let out a weak cry. “What’s wrong with him?”

“He got caught in brambles and in his struggle to get free, got badly cut. As if that weren’t bad enough, somewhere in the process, he broke a leg. Must have become separated from the flock, and the shepherd overlooked it.” His tone grew hard as he mentioned the shepherd’s oversight.