Ezra
The Boy Who Walked with Jesus
By T R Hollingsworth
1 Ezra grasped the oar handles and dipped them into the cloudy waters. The skiff barely skimmed the surface. He watched his father’s broad back and thick, rope-like muscles that expanded into brawny bulges. He tried to match strokes, but his were short and weak in comparison. Someday, he thought, someday I too will have muscles and strong arms like that. Raising his arm, he swept the rain from his face. It had been a long trip. He felt tired and grumpy after hours of staring into the shallow waters of the Jordan River. The rain had stopped, but in the morning dawn the skies were overcast and dark. Breezes added a chill to the dampness. Shivering, he pulled his woolen cloak more closely about his thin body. Ezra looked down into the water, tried to ignore the tears trickling down his cheeks. Again he swept his arm across his face. A lonely sadness chilled his mind and body. In the search for his Uncle Andrew, they had travelled south along the river for several weeks. But they had not yet found the place where he followed the man called John the Baptist. Shaming tears streamed down Ezra’s cheeks. To hide them he stared down into the bottom of the boat. Determined to forget his sadness, Ezra straightened, squeezed the wooden handles tightly, and forced the oars into the water. By remembering the many short visits with unknown cousins and new friends, he admitted there had been many happy times. He thought of the welcoming aunts and uncles, the special excursions with them. His gloom lifted slightly as he remembered the good feelings and the excitement of being treated as a special visitor. Now, rowing with renewed energy, he wished they’d move closer to home, not away from it. He thought of his mother’s teary eyes as they left Bethsaida. She was the one he really missed. Yet he missed his brother John who was watching over his sheep and goat. And his little sister, too. He even missed the sheep who knew his voice. Tears threatened again. Just then his father looked back and called,” I think we’re getting close, Son.” Pointing with his oar, he yelled, “See that clump of trees over there?” Ezra nodded. “We’ll pull in there and store the boat in a safe place. I understand there is a village nearby where we can sell the few perch we’ve caught.” Ezra pulled harder on his oars. As they neared the rocky beach, Ezra saw Shep, his little terrier, waiting near the water's edge. When the bow of the small boat touched land, the dog ran back and forth, barking and yelping. He jumped into the water and swam around the boat to reach Ezra. "Ho, Shep!" Ezra called. "Come here, boy." The dog tried to jump out of the water but fell backward, sputtering, and blowing as he sank below the surface. They laughed as he turned and swam back to the shore. Usually the dog slept in the boat’s bow, but earlier Ezra had set the dog on shore so he could stretch his legs and run. He could easily follow the boat’s moves. Ezra hopped from the skiff into knee-deep water to help push it up on the shore. When he stepped on land, Shep jumped into his arms, scattering water and sand. Ezra picked up a piece of driftwood and tossed it a distance into the river. Unsuccessfully chasing after the bobbing wood, the dog scrambled into the waves, barking happily. Returning to shore, he shook violently, sending a stream of water onto Ezra. His father pulled as Ezra pushed the boat into a crowded grove of fig trees. "The boat will be safe here," his father said. "After we sell the fish, we'll look for Uncle Andrew and John the Baptist. Then we shall return home." He grabbed the handle of the pail loaded with the few perch they had collected that day. “Shep! Come!” Ezra called. The dog raced out of the water again. Ezra patted his rough wet hair. Happy now, he looked up at his father who smiled his approval. Ezra finally convinced his father Shep was needed to help him shepherd the family’s sheep and goat. Even though both knew pet dogs were shunned by most Jews. The rain had stopped. Yet in the morning dawn the dark skies were overcast and still threatening. Breezes added a chill to the dampness. Ezra shivered and pulled his cloak more closely about his body. His tunic underneath was wet and clinging. As they walked, carrying the basket of fish, Ezra listened eagerly to his father. Usually a silent man he now confided, “When I can afford a larger boat, we will stop fishing for other men. Then you can join your uncle and me. We will all work together. Life will be easier then." Ezra nodded. He understood that no Galilean fisherman wanted to work for another man. “Then I will be old enough to help you every day," he said proudly. They strolled on companionably silent. Ezra watched as the buyer weighed and checked the fish for freshness, praying it would bring a nice price. His father seemed content as he carefully counted out the coins and stored them in a small leather pouch. They walked side by side down the path that stretched along the river as they searched for Andrew and the strange baptizer. "Tell me more about him, Father, this man from the wilderness.” Ezra searched his father Simon’s face and waited silently. “Your Uncle Andrew claims that this weird man of the wilderness called John the Baptist is telling everyone the Messiah is coming soon. Andrew is so convinced he tells the truth that he hopes to become this Baptist’s disciple." "Tell me again what this Baptizer looks like!" Ezra was more interested in his appearance than his message. "Why is everyone saying he's to be feared?" "I hear he's an awesome sight, son. They say his straight black hair is tangled with briars, and he wears camel's' hair on his skinny body by gathering it together with a rough leather belt. And he made that from the skin of a wild boar.” Speechless, Ezra shivered with dread. He wanted to hear more. But he secretly hoped they would find his uncle far away from this fearful man. His father continued, “They also say he carries a long staff carved from a gnarled branch of an olive tree.” He lowered his voice to a rough croak. "He talks like this,’ Uncle Andrew says’ “and he eats locust bugs to satisfy his hunger." Ezra covered his mouth to hide his groan, knowing his father was deeply serious. "Are people afraid of him? Does he strike anyone with his staff?" "Afraid? Some are. No, I don’t think he strikes anyone, not yet anyway. Andrew says he uses it to point out sinners, people who don't follow God's commandments." He paused for a moment, deep in thought. "Go on, Father. Please." "I suppose he's peaceful enough. He claims the Messiah is coming soon and he, John, has been sent to prepare everyone. He cautions people to repent and turn away from their evil ways. Before it's too late. I'm sure his tale frightens some. "Andrew says that men get down on their knees and cry out for forgiveness. This John, this man of God, cleanses them right there in the muddy Jordan - calls it 'baptizing.'" "Will we see him, Father?" He straightened his shoulders and stood tall. "I'm not afraid.” His father frowned. "We fished for hours today, son, and our catch was small," he said. "We will seek your uncle and then return to Bethsaida. We will stop only to nap along the way. Soon your mother will be watching for us daily."