Mary of Bethany's Dream

Mary woke. She sat up dazed and wondering what was the hour, and startled the reclining snake. The serpent's head danced before her eyes, it's forked tongue darting and cruel. She froze, terrified. Time became suspended in another realm.

Mary stared into the most evil eyes she'd ever seen, unfathomable and without any light. She noticed a change in her surroundings. The trees and grass became greener and darker, a rancid smell rose from the plants and wafted through the air, as moisture rose and fell like a vale of tears. Yet she was more fascinated by the swaying serpent, which now stood on the tip of its tail. Mary licked her lips uncertainly.

To her astonishment it spoke, "O Mary, because of the seed of the woman my head will be crushed. Therefore I must hide." The timbre of its voice was the most wondrous, melodious sound, like many twittering birds in song.

"No, no...get away from me!" She begged. The snake struck and she was plunged into darkness.

Suddenly angels descended all around. They seemed to be pushing away the darkness. One angel took the creature by its tail, and tossed it into the bushes. They sang for joy, praising God, and Mary recognized the chorus as the one she had longed to hear as a very young child. But who was this, standing to one side? He smiled at her and in that instant she knew...it had to be Messiah! Mary shook her head to clear her thoughts and recall how the morning had started, with her sister Martha rebuking her about being slothful.

Mary's work complete, she walked out to the well, where she drank from a ladle sitting in a pail of freshly drawn water. Waving to Martha, to indicate she had done what was expected of her, she ambled off into the surrounding fields. A kerchief was tied under her chin, as the midday sun was hot overhead.

Two youths, of a similar age to Mary, were walking in the same direction.

"Shalom," they greeted the girl, "aren't you the pretty one who likes to sing, and quote verses from the Wisdom scrolls?" One of them winked at her boldly.

"Shalom...peace to you both," Mary cried gaily, ignoring the taller one's rashness. "Ken, I love to sing." Adults would be forbidden such familiarity.

"Sing then, we'll listen and be your judges," they teased. Mary tossed her head, causing the curls around her face to dance. She skipped towards a copse of trees which offered a shady arbor and sat down on the green carpet. Looking around she could see a donkey grazing along the edges of the open meadow, with several lambs keeping it company. This same animal had carried herself and Lazarus on countless trips, including her first visit to the olive grove two years ago, a treasured memory as she left the confines of early childhood.

Mary rose and ran through the field until she reached the donkey. "Here you are, faithful friend." She fed the beast some sweet grass, tenderly stroking its neck. "Enjoy this while you are able." A sadness passed over her, as he was not of much use to the Eliakim's anymore, and Martha didn't believe in feeding livestock that was no longer viable.

She strolled along, cautiously avoiding another group of boisterous youths, who were involved in a dispute. Mary knew them well as rough, scornful boys. She noticed with dismay the slings in their hands, with a bag full of stones no doubt!

"They have to eat," Martha had told her before, but Mary knew that it was often a wasteful sport, for the birds they killed were too small to make even a mouthful.

She found a cool, comfortable spot, then sat and gazed down at Bethany in the valley below. A timeless setting, nothing had changed here for probably thousands of years. Shepherds and barley, or barley and shepherds? she mused, up to Jerusalem or down? On foot or on the back of a donkey, and in ragged apparel or riches, it never changed. As she looked around, she could see the shabby abodes huddled together, built into the crevasses of the mountain, where the poorest dwelt in the ancient caves, no better off than wild animals. Always afraid of marauding bandits, they completed with hyenas and jackals for their very existence. Martha believed there were lepers hiding in one of the remotest caverns, and considered them 'dead' under the Oral Law.

Mary grimaced at the thought. She noticed a limp sparrow to her left and carefully lifted the little bird, searching around for its nest. The blood on Its breast smeared over her fingers. Those awful boys! Softly she cradled it In her palms and sang an old Hebrew lullaby. Then digging a small hole, she buried it beneath the sod. "Sleep my little winged friend," she murmured. "Till Messiah comes..."

Half-an-hour later, Martha stepped briskly towards the stone-walled perimeters. "Mary, Ma-ry...come on home. It's getting late." She rubbed her hands together expressing her concern. "That girl is becoming quite impossible to control. It's a pity she can't be punished with the rod for this." Her young sibling was precocious and should be chastised, as Martha felt she so richly deserved. Lazarus had allowed Martha one stroke with the wooden spoon when rebuking the child, but he had refused to participate. It was at this moment Mary had woken to present and immediate danger.

Martha saw the lightning movement of the snake seconds after she spotted Mary. She rushed to her sister's side, screaming in anguish.

By chance, two young Bethanites were heading home along the wall. They leapt into action, beating the surrounding bush in an effort to flush out the loathsome reptile. After only a few minutes they found it, and the taller lad held the dead snake up by the tail. He glanced with great concern at Mary, who was now sobbing in Martha's arms.

"It's a baby cobra," he confirmed. Mary's eyes were closed as he added gravely, "they're the deadliest of all." The cruel venom of cobras was well known in the district. The result was usually death.