I don’t know where I am. I am surrounded by people, and I don’t know how I got here. Men are shouting. Women are waving scarves of vibrant red, blue, and green. A group of girls my own age pass by me dancing and playing tambourines. The crowd of singing people moves and carries me with it. The many pairs of dancing feet stir up a cloud of dust so I can barely see. I cover my mouth with my black veil so I don’t breathe it in. Suddenly the crowd stops moving forward, and the air clears. I lift my eyes and gasp in awe and surprise. There before me is the holy Temple of Jerusalem in all its splendor.
The hot sun glints off its walls as I watch two rabbi in ceremonial white robes pull the temple gates open. A small knot of priests parade out into the light. They are leading someone in white down the temple steps in chains. I work my way to the front of the crowd so I can see the unfortunate person. My breath catches in my throat. The prisoner isn’t a human; it’s a lamb. I’ve never seen one so beautiful with a fleece coat so flawless. Light seems to radiate from it. The crowd around me catches sight of the lamb too, and their voices increase in volume. But their shouts sound angry now. They scream insults and threats at the lamb. Someone starts up a chant and others join in. I can make out the words, “Kill him! Kill him!” Surely they can’t mean this lamb that looks so innocent? It doesn’t resist when the priests roughly drag it to the ground. I am almost close enough to touch the lamb, who still doesn’t struggle as the eldest priest sharpens his knife. My mind seems to freeze. I can’t believe they are going to kill this beautiful being. Desperately, I scream in protest, but no sound leaves my mouth. The only living creature that seems to hear me is the lamb. It lifts its head and meets my eye. Its gaze feels so familiar...time stands still. The priest, urged on by the crowd, raises his long cruel blade.
“Ana! Ana, wake up!” I jerk awake. James’ concerned face is above mine, outlined by the early morning sunlight shining from the open window. “Are you alright? You were talking in your sleep.”
“Yes, I think I’m fine,” I reassure him, sitting up shakily. “I just had a strange dream.” I rub my eyes. “Why is my face wet?”
“You’re covered in sweat,” said James anxiously. “Are you sure you’re feeling alright? Does your head still hurt?” I had almost forgotten about yesterday’s accident.
“No, I think the wound is healed.” Sure enough, when I took off the bandage I could only feel a thin scar were the cut had healed. “It’s just a little tender, and you need to be quieter. No one else is awake yet.”
James, finally satisfied that I was not going to die on him, lay down on his mat next to mine. “What were you dreaming about anyway?” he asked curiously. “You kept on saying ‘Don’t kill him’.” The lamb’s tender eyes flashed across my mind.
“I just had a nightmare. It wasn’t that exciting,” I answered slowly trying to smile. I rose and looked out the window at the sun peaking out over the horizon. “Mother should wake up soon.”
Suddenly I heard running footsteps coming down the street. Someone banged on our door. “Joseph! Mary! It’s Samuel!” Father woke with a start and hurried to the door.
“What’s happened? Is your family alright?” father asked as he opened the door for his friend.
“Yes, they’re fine,” he gasped, his eyes worried. “It’s the publicans, and they’re here a week early. There are Roman soldiers and a legionary with them. I can see the dust from their horses already.”
Publicans and Roman soldiers-just the words were enough to make me feel both afraid and angry. I could feel mother’s hand on my shoulder. Jesus and Joseph stood beside her, the first calm and the other defiant. “So the devils have come to collect their precious money.”
“Enough, Joseph,” reprimanded father wearily. “Thank you, Samuel. We’ll be ready.” Samuel nodded, gave James and me a fleeting smile, and left.
No one spoke as we hastily dressed. It was like these arrogant tax collectors to come a week early before we could be prepared to pay their ridiculous taxes. I glanced at my parents who were conversing in whispers. “Jesus?” I asked, approaching my brother as our family walked out into the street. “Will we be able to pay?”
“God is watching over us, Anna,” he answered. “He directs the flow of our lives, not the Romans.” He put his hand on my back as the first Roman soldier galloped into view. Soon the street was full of them. They rode up to closed doors and threatened to break them down if the occupants didn’t show themselves. Some overturned baskets, tables, and sacks of grain, laughing as women tried to recover the precious food.
“Out! Everyone out! Prepare to pay your taxes!” shouted the legionary at the head of the group. His eyes swept over us, lingering unpleasantly on the young women. “One member of each family will assemble here,” he said, gesturing to a table which his men had carelessly dragged from a house and emptied of its contents. “Form a line quickly!”
Soon the dreadful conversations started. Many families could not pay all that they owed because the harvest had been bad. I could only watch as livestock, food, and tools were taken as punishment for not meeting the amount demanded. Mother’s eyes never left father as he moved up the line closer to the table. But Samuel reached it first. I couldn’t hear what he said to the Romans, but soon the voice of the legionary reached my ears.
“I’ve had enough of these excuses!” he growled. “It’s not my fault that your harvest failed. You will pay double when we come back, and for now you must give up your best livestock.”
“I can’t,” Samuel protested. “I have no livestock left to offer you.”
“You are lying,” said the legionary calmly. “You still have your daughter.” His eyes glinted with pleasure as Samuel turned to plead with the soldiers, who were dragging his screaming daughter away. “Enough old man!” the legionary smiled. “She will work to help pay off your debt. Next!” He turned to father. “I certainly hope you have something to offer, or I might have to take a daughter of yours too.” His cruel eyes wandered until they rested on me.
My heart went cold as Jesus suddenly took my hand and led me behind the house towards the stream. I had to run to keep up with him. Finally we stopped near the water. Gasping for air, I paced back and forth on the bank. “They took Martha. She was only thirteen, and they took her.” I tasted salt as I sobbed. “Jesus, will they come for me? I can’t hide from them.”
Jesus held me as I shook with fear. “Father won’t let them have you. He’ll give them our donkey and the rest of our livestock if he has to.”
“Jesus?” said a frightened voice suddenly, making me jump. A group of children who had been hiding from the soldiers walked up to us shyly. A little boy called Daniel had spoken. “Will you tell us a story?” he asked. Jesus smiled and the children were soon clustered around us, completely spellbound as he told the story of Noah and the ark and Daniel in the lions’ den. Children always gravitated towards Jesus. They couldn’t get enough of his stories, and he always had time for them. Now I felt myself relax as I listened to my brother. Sensing my emotions, Jesus caught my eye and grinned. As I returned his smile I remembered something-my dream. Again, an image of the lamb flashed across my mind. It was so bright and innocent-so perfect-with the eyes of my brother, Jesus.
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