At the end of the week of the festival, Miriam was delighted with the prospect of going home. It had been good to see people, to be in the Temple again, and to visit the tomb of her parents with Yehoshua, but she was ready to be back in Natsarat, in her own little home, to the quiet of her village, and to get life back to normal.
They waited to leave Yerushalayim until after the Shabbat, to avoid spending the day of rest on the road. Then all of them headed out for home, after making a final visit to the Temple for morning prayers before going home on the first day of the week.
Miriam and Yosef walked with his brother, Halphai and Halphai’s wife, Miriam, as they left Yerushalayim.
Stopping that evening for rest, Miriam was filled with terror as she realized Yehoshua was not anywhere to be found among their relatives and fellow villagers.
“Yosef,” she said, coming to her husband. “Our son did not come with us.”
The expression on his face expressed to her exactly the panic she felt. Then he nodded. “We will have to go back and get him, then.”
“We can’t ask everyone to go back, or hold them up here waiting for us,” Miriam said.
Halphai’s wife said, “Halphai and our sons and I will go with you, Sister, to look for Yehoshua. The rest can return home. Seven of us walking home should be a large enough group that we won’t be bothered by robbers.”
Yosef said, “It is nearly dark, now. We’ll set off at first light. Everyone rest. It will be a long day tomorrow.”
“How can I rest?” Miriam wrung her hands.
“Wife, we’ll find him.”
“What if he’s hurt?”
“We can’t worry about things we don’t know about, Miriam. We need to rest now. We’ll go back to the city tomorrow and we’ll find him.”
Sighing raggedly, she admitted, “I’m frightened.”
He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. It was good to be able to rely on his strength. “I know you are. I am, too. But we’ll find him, Miriam. I’m sure of it.”
She rested her head on his shoulder. “How could we have left him behind?”
“He was with us when we left Adlai’s home. He was with us in the Temple. How many hundreds of us are walking north on this road today? It is impossible to watch everyone.”
“My job is to watch and protect Yehoshua. And I failed. What if he is hurt? What if he is lost to us?” She felt herself become increasingly agitated.
“I don’t believe that will be,” Yosef said. “Now, rest, my dear.”
“Rest?” she asked, her words as shaky as she was.
Yosef quoted to her the mashal, the proverb, “’A courageous wife is a crown to her husband.’”
Miriam drew a ragged breath. She stepped back from him and straightened herself. “Very well, I will have courage, for your sake. I will rest for his sake.”
“Good. Come, rest. Morning will come early. If we start off at first light, we should be able to be back at Adlai’s home well before dark. We should have some time to go out looking for Yehoshua.”
“Father,” Shimon said, “Yehuda, Yaacov, and I shall go with you as well. He is our brother. We will go with you to look for him. Besides, the larger group of us who walks home through Samaria, the safer we will be.”
Yosef said, “Morning will be upon us soon. Rest, now.”
Adlai had been clearly surprised to see them return so soon, but he welcomed them, warmly. Yet, he hadn’t seen Yehoshua since they had all left his house to make a final visit to the Temple before going home.
The next days were spent in a fruitless search for her son. No one to whom any of them spoke remembered seeing the boy.
Finally, after three days’ search, early that morning, they went into the Temple to pray. It was then that they discovered Yehoshua sitting among the scribes under the portico in the court of the women.
Miriam went to her son, took him aside and demanded, “Son, why have you done this to us? Your father and I have been seeking you, anxiously.”
Yehoshua looked at his mother and shrugged, “Why did you seek me? Did you not know I must be in my Father’s house and about His business?”
Over his head, Yosef and Miriam exchanged glances. They were spared making an immediate reply when one of the teachers, a man called Gershom, came over to them. “Your boy has a remarkable knowledge of Torah and the Prophets. For the last few days, we have been greatly challenged by him. Would you consider sending him here to study with me? He could be among the great teachers of Yisra’el if he were given the chance to study here.”
Yosef shook his head, dismissing that. “He has not yet fully mastered his trade of carpentry.”
One of the priests who had been sitting with the scribes walked over to her, “Miriam, that you? Is this your boy?”
She smiled at her old friend. “Yes, David, Yehoshua is my son.”
“Small wonder then the boy shows such love of Adonai. You always did have great faith, from the time you were a small child when your parents left you here to serve,” the priest, David, said. “We do miss Zechariah,” he added in an undertone.
“We do, as well,” Miriam said.
“Do you know what happened to his infant son, Yoni, and Elisheva, his wife?” David asked.
“I have not heard from them since before Herod had Zechariah murdered and their home set to fire, a dozen years ago,” Miriam said. “I still pray daily for their safety.”
David said, “I have Zechariah’s books. When he came to Yerushalayim for his Temple service that last time, he brought with him all his scrolls of Torah, the Prophets, and Writings. I’ve been holding them in trust for Elisheva and Yoni. But you are their kin. Would you take these books and use them for your boy’s education?”
Miriam nodded. “We would be honored to keep them safe for Yoni. Zechariah would have liked that.”
Yosef said, “We must be going home, now. Gather your things, young man.”
“Yes, Abba,” Yehoshua agreed. Then he addressed the priest, David, and the scribe Gershom, “May I come and sit with you when I am next in Yerushalayim?”’
“You will be quite welcome, young man,” David said.
“I would be happy to speak with you again, Yeshoshua of Natsarat,” Gershom said. “You have a better grasp of Torah and the Prophets, young man, than most adults. You have a fine mind and a heart full of love for El Elyon. You will be a great teacher for Yisra’el when you are grown.”
“Come, walk with me,” David said, “I will give you the books to take home.”
They walked to David’s house with him and took three leather bags filled with Zechariah’s scrolls.
Leaving David’s house, Miriam took her son’s hand. “You must never do anything like that again, my dear Son. We were terrified for you. You’ve delayed us to the point we will be spending the Shabbat on the road, now.”
“You always taught me that the Shabbat is a gift, not a prison, for man,” Yehoshua said.
“Carrying is prohibited on Shabbat,” Yosef said, “as is leaving one’s place. You know this. We will stay at an inn for Shabbat. But now, we have more than half a day to start towards home. I do not want to squander the day. We have commissions waiting for us to finish at home. The work will not do itself. And without those jobs being finished, we will not be able to eat.”
“Abba, I am sorry to worry you and Emma.”
“What were you thinking, Son?” Yosef demanded, his voice both kind and firm.
The boy sighed. “I walked past them, the scribes and the priests who sat there talking. They were discussing a point of halakhah having to do with speech and our duty to others in reference to our words. I was drawn into that conversation. They were completely missing the real point, not seeing how all the scriptures relate to one another. One thing led to another, and we were talking until late that evening. Several of us went home with David and we had dinner and kept talking. I slept there. Then we came back to the Temple and continued the discussions. The days have gone like that. I didn’t think about anything except the halakhahic discussion. I was lost in it.”
Yosef chuckled, as though nervous. “Yehoshua, my boy, your time has not yet come.”
“When will my time come, Abba?” Yehoshua asked.
“El Elohe Yisra’el shall make that plain to you when the time comes. Until then, your task is to study and be the best man you know how to be,” Yosef said.
Miriam sighed as she looked at her son, “I assumed you were with us when we left Yerushalayim. I should have made certain. I will, absolutely make sure you are with us, in the future. You must keep your mind on earth, my son, even though your heart is with Avinu Malkeinu. I know it is difficult.”
“Yes, Emma,” he said, his voice heavy.
“You are safe. That’s the important thing,” she said, touching his face.
“I didn’t mean to worry you,” the boy said.
“I know you didn’t,” she told him as she hugged him.
The rest of the group was still at the home of Adlai when they returned there with Yehoshua.
After explanation, they gathered their things and headed north to Natsarat.
Yehuda walked beside his father. Miriam walked behind the rest of the men and boys, along with her sister-in-law. Miriam wished she knew what Yehuda and Yosef were talking about so animatedly. Yet, she wondered if she would like it, at all. Yehuda had been strongly advocating for sending Yehoshua to Yerushalayim for advanced education. This episode would be additional fuel for that campaign.
The walk home was uneventful. Even the curiosity from the neighbors wasn’t all that bad, once they had arrived home. The typical response to learning that they had found Yehoshua in the Temple was for the neighbor to simply smile and acknowledge that sounded like the boy. Any other child might have gotten into mischief, but it seemed suitable to their minds that Yehoshua should have been found to be in the Temple, talking about the meaning of the scriptures.
Soon, village life moved on. It became something of a good natured village joke, each time the men and boys left for Yerushalayim as the pilgrim festivals approached, to remind Yehoshua to return to Natsarat with the men and boys, instead of staying behind to talk with the priests and scribes. However, there was no malice in those words.