“Please pass the goat cheese,” Nathan said, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of a rough cotton cloak that easily had room inside for another boy and a half. But it was warm, clean, and dry. Nathan hungrily helped himself to a hunk of cheese as thick as a man’s hand.

“We may have escaped with little more than the clothes on our backs,” Joshua was saying, “but here we have found a king’s treasure in brotherly love and concern. Christ be with this house!”

The seven who had escaped underground from Jerusalem had traveled three more days to reach Judea’s major seaport of Caesarea. At first they attempted to stay off the roads as much as possible, but on the second day, Joshua paid for a ride the rest of the way in the smelly wagon of a cheerful fish merchant returning with his catch from the Mediterranean Sea.

The fisherman said nothing about the troubles in Jerusalem. If he suspected that his four adult and three child passengers were running away from something, he didn’t say so. In fact, he spent most of the journey whistling lively tunes that Mara figured could easily charm fish into the man’s boat. Who needed a net? Before they reached Caesarea, the kind whistler had offered both Timon and Joshua jobs mending nets and drying fish.

The footsore travelers had arrived at the home of Azariah Bar-jona, Timon’s brother. Azariah owned a clothing stall that sold beautiful woolen fabrics woven by his wife, Ruth, and two neighbor women who worked for her. There was a new baby in the house and three other small children.

Now all thirteen people were gathered around a table that the Bar-jona brothers had quickly built of wooden planking from an old rowboat falling to pieces behind the house.

Mara smiled at Karis, who smiled back. “I think what I’ve been missing all along is a sister,” said Mara.

“Me too,” said Karis, giving Mara’s hand a squeeze.

“Hey!” protested Nathan around a mouthful of cheese. “I thought I was all the sibling you ever needed!”

Mara winked at Karis. “No, brother, you’ll be much too busy polishing my crown and scepter. The queen needs a sister.”

“For what?” Nathan bit into a thick slice of fresh-baked bread and butter.

“Lots of things,” Mara replied with a sniff. “To go shopping with. To do each other’s hair.” She looked at the straight black hair on Karis’s head and vowed to fix it. At least the tangled knot was gone. After a nice hot bath, they all looked and smelled better. “And to order you around when I’m too busy feeding the peacocks and bathing in milk,” Mara finished. She shared a grin with Karis.

“Yuck!” Nathan’s face twisted as if his mouth were full of something sour. “I’d rather be sprinkled with maggot spit and buried in eel slime!”

“Such a gentleman,” Mara said with a laugh. “My hero!” She leaned over and kissed him.

“Knock it off!” he yelped, rubbing frantically at his cheek. “Torah does not encourage public displays of affection. You really must learn proper manners . . .”

“Thank you, Rabbi Maggot Spit. I’ll try to remember that.”

Mara’s mother shook her head and frowned, but everyone else laughed. Karis leaned across Nathan and whispered in Mara’s ear. “There’s another thing a sister’s good for.”

“What?” Mara whispered back.

“Exploring. Caesarea has tons of marble and lots of hiding places around the harbor. And best of all, there’s a six-mile-long tunnel cut through Mount Carmel to bring water into the city from underground springs. I’ll show it to you!”

Mara rolled her eyes. “No way! At least not right now. Give it a rest for a few days, and we’ll see.”

The two girls giggled, and Nathan showed them the ugly wad of goat cheese in his mouth.

But soon all were giving thanks for each other and for how God had brought the three families together as friends.

Joshua asked, “Is Jesus pleased when we argue over whether we worship the heavenly Father in Greek ways or Hebrew ways?”

“No!” the others answered in unison. Even the littlest ones, though their “nos” were late, joined in the fun. Only the wide-eyed baby kept silent.

“Does Jesus say Hebrew customs are better than Greek customs?”

“No!”

“Does Jesus love both those who speak Greek and those who speak Aramaic?”

Several of the smaller children, sure of the right answer this time, answered with a loud “No!” as the adults were answering with a resounding “Yes!” Mara laughed at the sheepish looks on their faces.

“Are all of us who follow the Way of Christ really brothers and sisters in Christ?”

“Yes! Yes! Yes!”

Timon reached for his wife’s hand. She reached for Joshua’s hand just as his hand took hold of Mara’s. Mara grabbed Nathan’s hand before it could get away, and he shyly placed his other hand in Karis’s. When the circle of hands was complete, Azariah prayed:

“Merciful Father, thank You for forgiving our foolishness and protecting us from evil. Thank You for bringing the ones we love and the ones we have come to love safe from the dangers of Jerusalem. Bless the believers still there and keep them from harm. But should they die for their faith, Father, please give them a place in heaven with You and Stephen. Make the church grow, Lord, and may it spread across the Roman Empire and beyond. In the strong name of Jesus the Messiah, we pray.”

Mara asked if she could add a prayer. Nathan started to say, “The rabbis do not permit a woman to lead prayer in pub —” but Azariah cut him off.

“Of course you may pray, Mara,” Azariah said. “Jesus would stop no one from talking to the Father.”

Mara bowed her head and tried not to cry. “Father God, please watch over Sarah and Obadiah and Akbar and the other kids and their families. Please let us see them again someday. Thank You for Stephen and his faith in You. And I ask You to change Saul’s heart. Help him to trust in Jesus. And thank You for changing my heart so —so —I mean, forgive me for the way I treated Karis. Bless her family for giving us a place to stay. Help me to be a nicer person. In the name of Jesus.”

“Amen!” Nathan said with too much enthusiasm. Mara poked him with her elbow.

“Lord,” said Karis, so softly that she could barely be heard. “Please forgive me for thinking every kid in New Israel has dirt for brains.”

“A-double-men!” Nathan said, earning himself another elbow.

The three friends waded along the shore, enjoying the fresh sea breeze and the rush of water on their bare feet. Gulls circled and kept an eye out for fish, skimming so close to the water that one good wave might have given them a soaking.

Mara lost herself in her favorite daydream. There she sat in royal white in a palace designed by her father. People fussed over her. Buffing her nails. Fanning her face. Fixing her hair. Arranging her jewels. Cake for breakfast. Camel races at noon. Dancing beneath the stars with a handsome prince dressed in gold.

“Hey, dream queen, you’re hunching again,” said Nathan, giving her his favorite “You’re my weird sister” look. Mara straightened her back. She hated to hunch. She’d never look good on a throne all hunched over.

But after all that had happened, maybe she would look after the horses in the royal stables instead. Or work with leather and fashion the fancy saddles that made an ordinary rider sit proudly. She really didn’t want to push people around. Jesus didn’t do that, and He was the King of Kings!

She could do as her mother did and visit the sick. Or help clean the houses of the old widows. Something, anything, to bring glory to God and make people smile and be glad she was around.

Mara started to hum, and Nathan quickly joined in. It was the New Israel club song. Karis looked doubtful.

“Don’t worry,” said Mara. “You’re going to like these words.”

We are New Israel, kids of strength and might;

Messiah has loved us, shown us a new light!

We are strong in His name, brave kids who know what’s right.

We stand the test, ’cause Christ’s the best.

He’s given us new sight!

And in an exaggerated voice, Nathan added, “Greek and Hebrew . . . are . . . all . . . right!”

“Too many lines,” said Karis. “Too many syllables.”

“Who made you choir director?” Nathan joked.

“Not choir director,” Mara said, putting an arm around Karis and looking her way. “You’re looking at the club’s new vice president.”

“Only until the next election,” Karis said with a sly smile. “Then I’m running for your job!”

“Hey!” Nathan protested. “How come I don’t get to be vice president?”

Mara sniffed and held her head high in the queenly way. “You are officially our rabbi-in-training. Nobody can do that job like you.”

“You really think so?” Nathan asked, tugging his borrowed turban more securely into place. It was two sizes too big. They could barely see his eyes.

“Oh yes,” Mara said, winking at Karis, “I’m absolutely positive.”