“You don’t understand,” Rachel said. “For you this is all so easy. It isn’t wonderful and exciting, but for me it’s a miracle.”
Leah was annoyed. A woman wasn’t supposed to enjoy the process of being pregnant and giving birth. It was a time when most of them complained and called attention to their aches and pains. “Well,” she sputtered finally, “if you really are pregnant, you’ll soon find it isn’t as pleasant as you’re thinking.”
It was on a sunny day in early spring when Rachel went into labor. Outside the storks were flying north and several dropped down into the courtyard to peck at some grain. “It is a good omen,” some of the old midwives announced. “This child will be a special child. He’ll do amazing things and go places we can’t even imagine.”
Leah heard them and scoffed. “It’s the business of old women to please new mothers with such predictions.” Nevertheless she could not hide a bit of compassion for her sister when she saw her sweat-streaked face, her hair hanging in damp curls around her cheeks, and her joy.
Rachel had insisted on bathing the baby and rubbing him with salt, and she was struggling to wrap him in the swaddling clothes. “See how perfect he is,” she said and beamed.
Leah only saw that he was small and very red with an astonishing shock of black hair. He was not as plump and pretty as her babies had been, but impulsively she squatted beside Rachel to help her. “Here, let me show you,” Leah said.
She took the long strip of cloth and starting at the neck neatly wound the cloth so the child’s arms and then little legs were held firmly in place. As she wrapped she instructed her sister. “It’s important to keep the wrapping on until the tender bones become strong enough to move about.” She then placed the baby in a leather cradle suspended from one of the rafters.
Rachel reached out to take the child from the cradle but Leah stopped her. “It’s best to leave the child in its bed and gently move the cradle with this cord.” She demonstrated by tugging on a hempen cord. “Both night and day you have to hold on to the cord,” she said.
“There,” she said, as she tied a few shells for good luck to the hempen cord. “I hope you’re giving proper credit to the mandrake I let you have.”
Rachel looked up at her sister in amazement. “No, that was a long time ago. It didn’t work. It’s Elohim of my husband who at last saw my plight. He’s the One who has removed the dark slur against my name and has given me this child.”
“So,” Leah said, “what have you named him?” She hoped in this way to find just what her sister’s plans were for the child.
“I’ve named him Joseph, for I want Elohim to give me another son.”
“Joseph,” Leah repeated. “‘May I also have another.’ What a strange name for a child. If the old midwives are right, this child is special and there’ll never be another quite like him.”
“I know he’s special,” Rachel said without looking up to see her sister’s amusement.
Word spread quickly among Leah’s sons that the midwives had pronounced great things for this child and that Jacob, their father, was delighted with him. They crowded in to see him while grimacing and winking to each other as they covenanted to stick together. “It’s all of us against him. We’ll see how special he can be,” they said and smirked. From that moment on, they were determined to see that this new brother would get no special treatment from them.
* * *
The fourteen years were soon up, and Jacob was eager to return home. He had mentioned this several times to Laban when they were out in the fields and had gotten no response. A great fear began to take possession of him. He could see that Laban was mulling over the situation and hatching some plot to keep him and his family in Haran.
At last, when they were sitting together under the grape arbor on Laban’s roof watching for the new moon, Laban spoke. “You must agree that these have been good years. My daughters have blessed you with sons and I have seen that you have had a house and food.”
“And you have grown rich with my labor. Now the fourteen years we agreed on are up. It’s time for me to take my wives and children back to my own family and home.”
Laban shifted uneasily. It was obvious that he had been expecting this very thing. He knew he must handle it carefully. “Of course I don’t want you to leave.”
Jacob quickly interrupted. “When I came I did not expect to remain here such a long time. I’ve stayed the fourteen years you asked of me, and now my wives and my children belong to me.”