To everyone’s surprise she became pregnant, and when another son was born, she named him Issachar, or “wages.” She wanted to remember that she had bargained for Jacob and had been given this son.
She was to have one more son, and this one she named Zebulun, or “gifts.” “God has given me many gifts for my husband. Now he will surely love me, for I have given him six sons.” By this time Leah was sure that Rachel could never catch up with her. “She will never have a child of her own,” Leah said. “Surely I have won in the conflict with my sister.”
When a baby girl was born to Leah, she decided to relax in the knowledge that she had given Jacob a whole quiver full of children. “What can my sister do to equal what I have already done?” Leah reasoned to herself. “Surely he will love me now more than he loves her.”
* * *
When the mandrakes failed to produce the desired result, Rachel gave up all hope of ever having her own child. She had done everything possible, even trusting the small fertility goddess tucked into the fold of her waistband. “Year after year I have gone to consult the women of magic and spells and have done all that they have advised,” she told Jacob at last. “There is nothing more to be done.”
Jacob was surprised. He knew that women had, from the beginning of time, resorted to various methods to get what they wanted, but it seemed obvious to him that only Elohim could give children. “Has your sister, Leah, gone to all this effort?” he asked, taking the small image she handed him and studying its harsh features.
“No, she was so angry at the old goat-man for not making you love her that she’s refused to have anything to do with any of them,” Rachel said.
“Have you asked Elohim for a child?” Jacob questioned.
“Not really. I thought you would deal with Him. How can you ask anything of someone you can’t see?”
Jacob didn’t answer right away. He was deep in thought. It had been at Bethel he had first experienced the reality of his God. “Rachel,” he said finally, “put all these charms and potions away. Forget everything you have been told by the old women who deal in magic. When you have done all these things, sit down by yourself and just talk to Elohim as you are talking to me. Tell Him you want a child and see what happens.”
“The charms work for others,” Rachel said. “Why won’t they work for me? I know many friends who have gotten pregnant after eating a mandrake root.”
This puzzled Jacob. There were mysteries he didn’t understand. However, he was beginning to see a vague pattern in situations his father would call “the ways of Elohim.”
“Perhaps,” he said at last, “this child is to be a very special child and you must know that he is a gift to you from Elohim.”
That surprised Rachel. “You sound as though you already know I will have a child.”
Jacob laughed. “I’m not sure of anything. However, from what you yourself have told me, I can see that you bargained to get the mandrake from Leah. You ate the mandrake and she didn’t, but she got pregnant.”
Rachel looked at him in amazement. “That’s right,” she said. “Perhaps it really is Elohim who gives children.”
“I can see how it seems logical that a little fertility goddess would be the one to give a woman a child. But don’t you see, this is only made of clay.”
“I know the clay itself has no strength, but there seems to be some magical power that works through this little idol.”
“It may be that power is from the evil jinn. In our family we trust in Elohim, the supreme, creator God. Ask Him for a child and see what happens.”
Rachel didn’t answer, but when he handed the small idol back to her, she took it and held it for a few moments. “Here,” she said. “You keep it and I’ll do as you say. If I become pregnant, you can destroy the little image.”
To Rachel’s great surprise and joy, within the fortnight she was actually pregnant. She did not dare tell Leah until she felt the child moving when she placed her hand on the growing mound of her belly. “I’m pregnant,” she said. “I really am going to have a child.” She cried and laughed and hugged Leah and Bilhah and Zilpah in her excitement. They could not believe her at first.
“Don’t celebrate too soon,” they warned. “It could be just a knot or a stone.”
“A stone that kicks and jumps?” she countered. “No, it’s a child and I’m going to enjoy every moment.”
“Enjoy!” they exclaimed. “There’s nothing to enjoy until the child is safely here.”