In the Field of Grace Read Free Page B

… thank you. But I must buy dates. For my mother.”
    “Ah. Try that stall over there. Mesha is almost an honest man. And his fruit is fresh. Don’t let him pick for you, though. Insist on picking the ones you want. He’ll grumble, but pay no mind. Your mother will be happy with what you bring home.”
    You don’t know my mother.
    “That’s kind of you. Thank you, Naomi.”
    Before Ruth settled on a price with the vender Naomi had recommended, the woman herself showed up again, stationing herself at Ruth’s side. “Come, Mesha. What kind of price is that for a daughter of Moab? You can do better.”
    Mesha complied by lowering his price a fraction. Ruth, who had no talent for haggling, gave the Israelite woman a grateful smile. “For once I’m returning from the market with a decent purchase. Not only do I thank you, my whole family thanks you.”
    Naomi laughed. Ruth liked the sound of it, clear and pleasing, without drawing needless attention. She could imagine the hardships of the woman’s life. And yet Naomi had not lost her ability to find joy in small things.
    “Will you come and visit me after you deliver the dates to your mother? It’s only my sons and me, and our house is simple. But youwould be most welcome. I’ll give you supper and afterward walk you home so you won’t have to worry about finding your way in the dark.”
    Ruth felt her skin turn warm as blood rushed to her cheeks. “I would like to.”
    Naomi patted her hand and told her how to find her house.
    Before delivering the dates to her mother, Ruth hid two of the plumpest in her sash. For once, her mother had no sour comments when she examined her daughter’s purchase. It never occurred to Ruth to expect praise for her success. Praise and her mother were not frequent companions. Not when it came to the woman’s fifth daughter.
    “Where is Grandfather?” Ruth asked.
    “Where else? Slumbering on his mat as usual, expecting everyone to take care of his lordship.”
    Ruth flushed at her mother’s bitter complaint. The only true kindness Ruth had received growing up was at the hand of her grandfather. Though everyone else in her family had found her wanting, her father’s father acted as though Ruth were the most precious member of his brood.
    In fond remembrance, Ruth fingered the luxurious linen sash tied at her waist. The old man had bought it for her years ago, after Ruth’s sisters had teased her more mercilessly than usual. Unable to bear their mean words another moment, she had run into the field behind their house and hidden through the night, shedding her tears in private. No one had bothered to try to find her. Except Grandfather.
    Late the following morning he had come upon her, crouching in order to see into her eyes. “There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
    “I was here.”
    “So I see.”
    “Is Mother very angry?”
    “No more than usual, shall we say? So long as you finish yourchores, I believe she will grow calm. Now, I have a present for you.”
    “For
me
?”
    “Yes, indeed. Because you are my adorable granddaughter and I am proud of you.” He proffered the most exquisite sash Ruth had ever seen. It had white and dark blue stripes, with lighter blue flowers embroidered through the edges.
    She gasped. “This must have cost a fortune.”
    The old man smiled. “It did. And you are worth it.”
    Ruth let the memory fade, blinking back tears.
    The grandfather she held dear had disappeared in the past few years. His mind had grown dim with time. Often he didn’t seem to recognize any of them. He had grown tangled in a shadow world, isolated, unable to grasp the ordinary things of life. He was with them and yet lost to them.
    Ruth knelt by his mat and caressed his shoulder with a light hand. His eyes opened, faded and unfocused.
    “I have a present for you, Grandfather.” Ruth handed him one of the dates, trying to keep the exchange hidden from the rest of the room with her slim body.
    The