1.2 The Journey Begins
Leaving the Familiar
   
​   Teyma put his hand on Joseph’s shoulder, turning him around to face him.
   “They take great pleasure in calling you a dreamer. So, you have dreams of the future?”
   Joseph nodded, taking a quick look over his shoulder at his departing brothers. “But they did not like the interpretation of the dreams.”
   “You will have to tell me of those sometime. For now, let me introduce your traveling companions: My wife is Talia, and my son, Kedar, named for a father long ago, and daughter, Miriam, and my helper, Petra.”
   Each smiled and nodded, welcoming Joseph into their group as another member rather than as a slave or piece of merchandise.
   Joseph stood before them, clearly at a loss. Teyma continued for him, “And you are Joseph, son of Jacob.”
Joseph nodded, adding, “And what will you do with me?”
   “That,” said Teyma with some emphasis, pointing at Joseph, “depends on you.”

   Teyma motioned to his son and Petra and they came to him. “We’ll go to the tree line across the way, not far from the stream, and we’ll set up camp for the night.”
   There was still plenty of sunlight, only mid-afternoon, but as Joseph was to learn, this was not unusual. Teyma never seemed in a hurry to reach whatever destination lay off in the distance.
   Petra moved to the front, the wife and daughter walking alongside the donkeys, and Kedar at the end. Teyma urged Joseph forward and walked with him.
   “Let us get to know one another better since we will be traveling together for a few weeks.”
   “Where?” asked Joseph, his concern about the future growing again.
   “To Egypt. I have many friends there. You will like it there. Many opportunities await. But first, tell me about yourself.
   "Have you ever been beyond Canaan, Joseph, seen the sea or the desert or been into the mountains in the far distance?”
   “No,” replied Joseph.
   “Have you seen the caravans that travel to the north and the east and the south?”
   “Yes, but from a distance. My father and older brothers have been among them, talked and traded with them.” Joseph understood the point of the questions, and he volunteered, “You are making me realize I know little about the things beyond shepherding in Canaan.”
   “Yes,” said Teyma, “and knowing this is the first step to learning. But first, do you know who put you in the pit?”
   Joseph looked at the man who had just paid Joseph’s brothers, the man who now owned him.
   “Of course, I do. You know, also. They are my brothers.” Joseph was angry that the man had asked him a question with such an obvious answer, as if to rub in the betrayal against his wounded pride.
   “And do you know what would have happened if I had not come along?”
   Joseph was hesitant to answer. If he believed they would leave him there, then he had no hope of ever returning home again. He would never be safe in their presence, and only his own hubris had kept that knowledge from rising to his conscious mind before now.    He had to admit the truth, to himself, too.
   “I would have died.” He did not feel a need to elaborate.
   “Good! You have learned a lesson today. You now know that you have no home, no place to which you can escape.”
   “That appears to be the fact, but I cannot yet bring myself to believe it,” Joseph replied dejectedly.
   “Yes, you know in your mind. You must understand it in your heart. A life with these brothers, these half-brothers, is no longer possible.” Teyma had given emphasis to the half-brothers, a point Judah had made clear.
   “And know this also: If you attempt to escape, to run from me, you have no place to go. I have friends all over Canaan, and they will return you to me. Many have no love for Jacob or his sons, for the sons have caused much damage throughout the land.
   “And when they return you to me, I will have no choice but to cut off your big toes.”
   Teyma let his words sink into Joseph’s mind. When Joseph’s expression showed a lack of understanding, Teyma added, “A man without his big toes cannot run because he cannot maintain his balance. And anyone buying a slave missing his toes knows the slave cannot run away, but also he knows that the slave is not to be trusted or given anything beyond the minimum for survival.”
   Teyma moved in front of Joseph, lifting the boy’s bowed head so that their eyes met. “Do you understand?”
Joseph replied softly, “Yes.”
   “That is all well and good. This is the first step toward your new life. If you want it to be so, the future will be better than the past. Even a slave with companions (and perhaps even a wife who loves him) lives a happier life than a prince who is despised.”
   Only later did Joseph understand how that statement applied to him, but he was not ready at this point. Protesting was futile, and acceptance was still distant. He walked in silence.

   The colorful caravan was indeed small. Joseph looked at those around him, taking inventory of his new world:
   Three donkeys, carrying what appeared to be improbable loads;
   Teyma’s wife, son, and daughter - these two slightly younger than Joseph;
   Petra, who appeared to be about Joseph’s age, probably a little older;
   Teyma, master of the caravan.

   The donkeys, tied one behind the other, were led alternately by Kedar and Petra. They were loaded with items Teyma had recently acquired for sale in Egypt, as well as provisions for the journey.
   Teyma spent time walking with each member of the caravan as they made their way to their camping spot.
   When one of the donkeys became obstinate, Teyma called Petra to come forward. The young man seemed to have a way with the animals, talking to them and coaxing them to bear their burdens and move.
   Kedar and Joseph observed as Petra caressed the animal’s neck and spoke to the beast as to a friend, almost as if in conversation. After a few minutes, the donkey brayed and moved forward, butting the donkey ahead as if to say, “Get moving!”
   Kedar commented to Joseph that Petra had done this often and that he was learning this art. Joseph could see the benefit, although he thought he had experienced a bit of that with his father’s sheep. The small group again moved forward.
   During the remainder of the afternoon, they set up camp and prepared for the night. Teyma spent most of this time with Joseph to learn more about his new acquisition. He found that he had to pry information about his family and experiences from Joseph, understandably unsettled by the events of the day. The newness of it all overwhelmed the young man, and Teyma eventually left him, instructing him to assist Petra with the remainder of unloading and caring for the donkeys.

   Teyma took time before the evening meal again to talk with Joseph in general terms about the possibilities in Egypt, perhaps a position with an important leader, the duties in such a household, the beautiful river and the lush land, the handling of herds and crops. His goal was clearly to raise the boy’s spirits, give him a future to imagine.
   But what Teyma may have thought enticing and exciting generated little interest in Joseph’s mind or heart. His mind was in the land they were leaving, his heart still with Israel, the “Jacob” of whom Teyma had heard. Joseph’s hope was lost somewhere between the past and the future, but not in the present, either.
   The meal was simple, and there was much talk among the others of the day’s events and the future. Joseph ate unenthusiastically in silence, oblivious to his new surroundings.
   Teyma watched the young man pick at his food. In many ways, Joseph was still a boy, a sapling ready to become a tree. Yes, he had some roots and some leaves on his branches, some muscles, and his chin showed the beginnings of a beard. He would need more than these external developments to become the man he was intended to be.
   Later, Joseph accepted a blanket offered by Talia and moved to the edge of the camp.

   After the others had settled into their coverings for the night, Teyma lay awake thinking of this son of Jacob, this half-brother to the terrors of Canaan, Simeon and Levi, whose strength and disregard for others had grown legendary.
   He thought back to their common patriarch of long ago, many generations for some, only perhaps four generations back to Abraham for young Joseph, maybe more for himself. The descendants had gone their separate ways, most away from the God of Abraham. What of this boy, so different from the two violent sons and from the crafty Judah?
   He must figure on a way to grow this young boy into a man over the next few weeks, help him find his foundation. The boy needed growing for his own good. And his value to his owner would rise, also.
   If there was one thing that he had learned in these years of working with people, it was this: the more accurately a man saw his own value, the more accurately others would see his value, as well.
   Teyma fell asleep with his mind turning, as if rolling down hill and gathering ideas of how to grow Joseph, at least to bring him to the beginning of a full bloom along the way.

   Joseph also lay awake, considering the words of his new owner and the new future that lay before him.
   The path had seem firmly fixed only a day before: life to the rhythm of the flocks and the seasons, the next day not unlike the previous day.
   But Teyma was correct in the dark forebodings of that future. Only Joseph’s father stood between Joseph and the violence of his brothers. There would come a day when Israel would die. And then what would have become of his favorite son? The events of this day had proven that Joseph did not have the luxury of his father’s lifespan for permanent security.
   Joseph no longer held a view of what lay before him, and he fell asleep poised at the edge of this cliff of uncertainty, grateful for sleep’s gentle peace.

Valley of the Sons 

   Joseph awoke to a sun throwing a few exploratory rays across the horizon, catching only in the taller trees. He felt a kinship with this first bit of sun cast upon a new world, a landscape not imagined in the dark of the past and holding a future with only vague outlines.
   Teyma appeared to have been up for a while and was coming toward him.
   “Good morning! Welcome to a new day, a day filled with endless opportunity for discovery.”
   “And what am I to discover today?” Shaking his head, Joseph continued, “I cannot stand more discoveries such as yesterday.”
   Teyma laughed. “You do not see the door opened by yesterday, though perhaps you have begun to realize the door that was closed. Indeed, that one door may have been permanently shut upon you in that pit.”
   Teyma spread out his arms. “And now, once again, the future is wide open to you.”
   Joseph did not feel cheered by his owner’s positive spirit. He was about to make an acerbic remark to this effect, but he held back. Indeed, the man had rescued him. A slow and unpleasant death had lingered before him.
   Deciding to try and catch some of the hope cast before him, Joseph asked, “And what does the future of this day hold?”
   Smiling, Teyma replied, “A day in a place called the Valley of the Sons. You will recognize the place and feel at home, but you will also see a new side to life, a view you have not chosen and in fact have denied yourself.
   “Get up and make yourself ready to greet the day. You see how the day has ordered itself for you.” Teyma waved an arm across the brightening horizon, pointing outward like the light that now opened the promise of all of nature surrounding them.
   Rain some days earlier was still evident in the brook flowing near the camp. Joseph drank and splashed his face, using the hem of his garment for drying.
   Curiosity now propelled him forward, the future now couched in more attractive terms. Rather than a future of doom, he now allowed the possibilities equally for both good and bad, a glimmer of hope against a darkened sky.
   Teyma gave Joseph some figs and a pouch of water, and pointed him away from the camp. They began to walk. Their path was easy although a slight incline, the fresh morning air not yet so warm as to be unpleasant even on their uphill walk.

   After an hour or more, they crested a hill. Below them lay an idyllic valley: a stream flowed through grassland with stands of fruit trees scattered randomly, sheep grazed in several areas, and three different tent settlements lay at intervals along the stream.
   There were large patches of yellow flowers toward the bottom of the descent into the valley, with a large patch of red beyond the yellow ones.
   Teyma pointed toward the settlement on his right. “We will go there.”
   They made their way down the rather steep hill in a sideways fashion, walking at angles to the incline to keep from flying head over heels to the edges of the valley below.
   Still at a distance, Teyma asked Joseph if he recognized the flowers.
   “Of course!” replied Joseph. “The yellow flowers are daffodils, and the red are poppies.”
   “Interesting…,” was all that Teyma would say.
   As they approached the yellow flowers, Joseph had forgotten about having shown his skill in identifying flowers and ignored them. Teyma asked him to look at them more closely.
   Now walking amongst them, Joseph saw his error. “They are yellow poppies! Who ever heard of yellow poppies?”
   Afraid that he had misjudged the red flowers also, Joseph ran ahead. He had gone only a few steps before realizing he had not identified these correctly, either. The red flowers were not poppies but red daffodils.
   Teyma saw Joseph stop in his tracks as he realized his error.
   Laughing, Teyma said, “Today you will learn to see yellow poppies and red daffodils!”
   “But yellow poppies and red daffodils do not exist. They are not anywhere else,” complained Joseph.
   “How do you know, Joseph? What have you seen of the world? And how many times have you looked at yellow poppies and called them daffodils, or at red daffodils and called them poppies?”
   Joseph shook his head. He looked closely again at the flowers in their yellow and red arrays. More and more, the world was coming to be less and less as he had always believed.

   As they continued their descent, the sun rose toward its apex, but a cool breeze wafted upward from the valley below, bringing the pleasing smells of wild grasslands tempered with a hint of smoke and the lingering faint fragrance of cooking.
   Nearing their destination, Joseph saw several women beginning the task of making cloth. They were setting up a loom, a wooden frame on which columns of thread hung vertically, the warp. Stones weighting the ends of the threads kept them tight.
   The women would then weave the threads through the columns horizontally, the weft, creating the cloth. The work was less difficult than it was time consuming, and these women appeared to enjoy the social aspects of the task as well as any others he had seen.
   Two young men, near Joseph’s age or perhaps a year or two less, walked around from the far side of the tent. Two older men, perhaps their fathers, followed.
   Joseph’s attention had been captured when he saw the young men of about his age, but he was distracted more by the similarity of the two men who followed. They appeared identical in every aspect, even their hair and clothing identical. Twins were not unknown to    Joseph, but he had never seen adults who were exact copies of one another.
   As he came into view around the tent, one of the young men caught sight of their visitors. “Teyma!” he called, and ran toward them followed closely by his younger companion.
   “Son1, Son2, greetings!” replied Teyma, opening his arms wide to embrace them both.
   Although on the edge of manhood, the two youth rushed toward Teyma’s welcoming arms, sharing in one armed embraces.
“What have you brought us?”
   Teyma’s smile faded as he feigned disappointment. “Is not my visit enough? Must I buy your friendship?”
Son1 stepped out of the one armed embrace, chastised and penitent. “No, you are always welcome,” he smiled apologetically.
Son2 stepped back, also, and added, “You will stay and visit with us, won’t you?”
   “If it is your will, I would be honored.”
   “Of course!” replied Son1 enthusiastically, trying to make amends for his presumption concerning gifts. “We will be sure to keep you full and to make you comfortable.”
   Teyma nodded appreciatively. Eying their bare feet, he said as if an afterthought, “And speaking of comfort, perhaps I think I do have a little something for each of you.”
   From within the folds of the light coat over his tunic, Teyma pulled out two pairs of leather sandals that he had kept concealed. He extended a hand holding one pair to each of his young hosts.
   “Please accept an offering in appreciation of our mutual friendship.”
   They quickly accepted the sandals and proceeded to put them on, binding the straps. In only a moment they stood before him, smiling as they moved their feet in their new shoes, trying them out and breaking in the stiff leather. Each embraced him in turn as they thanked him.

   Only after this exchange did the youth give attention to the young man beside their visitor. Teyma introduced them to Joseph.
   Then for the first time, Teyma acknowledged the fathers standing obediently behind the two young men.
“And Joseph, this is Father1 and Father2,” indicating the older men, standing in the background, some steps behind their respective sons.
   The older men gave a slight bow in greeting. Father1 said, “We had seen you coming down the hill and had run to tell our sons at the river to come here for a surprise. But they saw you first and surprised they were,” he laughed.
   “Yes,” smiled Son1, glancing down at his shoes, “a doubly pleasant surprise, indeed.”
   “Well, we best return to the flocks, Father1,” said the second twin father.
   “Yes, yes. We will see you again this evening.” Father1 smiled as the two men turned back toward the flocks some distance away.
   Joseph had momentarily forgotten his sense of bewilderment at the identical nature of the older men as the conversation with the sons had progressed, but now he was even more stunned by the deference the older men paid the younger ones.
   Before Joseph could speak, the sons began asking questions in unison, “Where is your father? Does he tend sheep or does he travel the roads as our friend, Teyma? Why is he not with you? He will arrive soon, won’t he?” They were incredulous that Joseph appeared to them to be alone.
   The questions seemed nonsensical to Joseph, as if he had been asked why the rain fell upward. He looked for help to Teyma.
   “Joseph, you are a visitor to a strange land. Did I not tell you this is the Valley of the Sons?”
   He stepped over between Son1 and Son2. “These young men are a year or so younger than you,” as he looked at Son1, “and perhaps three years younger than you, Joseph,” as he looked toward Son2.
   “They still have a short time of their youth left. And here in the Valley of the Sons, every young man has his own father to bring him to the age of a man. When he crosses that threshold, becomes a man, he takes his turn among the flocks or the fields with his father and learns his trade, and then takes a wife.
   “But the years spent as youths pass in full benefit of having a father, one father for each and every boy, no matter how many sons there are. The fathers model character, the primary and most important lesson for a son. The sons see their fathers with them whenever confronted with a new situation or a need for guidance or support.”
   Joseph stood open mouthed at what seemed the greatest heresy he had ever heard. Yes, it must be possible for rain to fall upward!
His upbringing had been to work, to learn to take over the responsibilities of an adult as he grew. Education, as in building character, was work!
   In spite of this heretical speech, he had the presence to ask, “But what of those two men, who seem identical in every respect? Are they each the father of one son?”
   Teyma looked at Son1, who took his cue.
   “Yes, the first was my father, and the second was my brother’s.”
   “But they look identical! How do you tell them apart?”
    “Identical? No. Similar? Yes, but distinctly different” said Son1. “Can you not distinguish each of your sheep, one from another? Am I not different from my brother?”
   “Yes, our fathers are very different,” agreed Son2.
   “Wait!” pleaded Joseph. “What if a man has eleven sons? How can he become eleven fathers?”
   “What a question! How is it where you live?” asked Son2. “Can it be different? Doesn’t each boy have a father?”
   “Sure he does. They all have the same father, one father. How can there be a new father every time a son is born?”
   Joseph had been shaking his head in disbelief, but now the brothers were clearly dumbfounded at Joseph’s response.

   Teyma had stepped back, distancing himself from the conversation, letting the three try to work out their impasse. His smile showed his enjoyment of what was happening.
   Son1 did not ask the question, but stated the impossibility, “How can one man be father to eleven sons? How does he divide himself among all of them so that each gets the full love and support due to a son? This is strange!”
   Joseph protested, “But where do the other fathers come from? How can there be a new father with each new son? Such a thing is inconceivable!”
   Son1, perplexed and straining his imagination, countered with the opposite question, “How can there not be a new father? There is a new life, which must be guided into manhood and responsibility.”
   Joseph paused, but then he knew what to ask: “When night comes and the fathers go to lie with their….” Joseph faltered, “Wait! Is there a new mother with each new son?”
   “Of course not,” replied Son1. “For every daughter there is a new mother.”
   Joseph grew more frustrated, but his feelings were mirrored in the faces of the brothers.
   Joseph tried again. “When the fathers go into their wives at night….” He paused, not knowing exactly how to express the question. Finally, he blurted, “Does it not get crowded in their room in the tent?”
   Son1 and Son2 replied almost in unison, “Of course not!”
   Son1 continued, “Have you not heard that a man is to have one wife and a woman to have one husband? How could more than the one man and one woman live together?”
   Son2 attempted to clarify what happened in Joseph’s family. “You have but one father to spread among many sons, and but one mother to spread among many daughters, is that correct? And then you also have one man with one wife, and one wife with one man?”
   Joseph saw his side of the argument becoming more difficult. Hesitantly, he replied, “The wife has but one husband, but the man may have many wives.” And foreseeing the question, he hastily added, “But the number of wives has nothing to do with the number of daughters.”
   Son1 stepped forward, holding up his hands between the other two. ”Listen, the day is getting warm and we have many questions. Let’s go swimming in the river and be cool, enjoy the day and the water. We can talk there.”
   Son2 grinned and said, “I am ready. Let’s go!” and turned toward the river. Joseph would have protested, but the thought of the cool water drew him toward the idea.

   The three walked toward the river, the brothers commenting on the feel of their new shoes. Joseph looking over his shoulder at his owner. Teyma waved him forward and retreated to a nearby tree.
   Looking back a moment later, he saw Teyma in a sitting position with his back resting against the trunk of the tree, his eyes closed.
   Thinking of the conversation with Teyma the night before, Joseph realized that in defending his own position, he was closing the door to learning a new perspective. Even if what these two new friends were saying was impossible, was he not to believe his own eyes? Where did truth lie if what he saw was impossible?
   The brothers’ conversation had turned to where they should go to swim, whether the long shallows or the deeper pools. Joseph’s thoughts went back to trying to wrap his mind around a concept that was impossible.
   Joseph thought of what Teyma had been teaching and why they had come to the Valley of the Sons. As with his view of their many fathers, the brothers viewed life of a single father having many sons as equally impossible. It was up to him to understand them before he could explain his own perspective.
   Joseph followed to the part of the river with a deep pool. A tree hung a few feet over the sparkling clear water. Son1 climbed out over the water to a fork in the branch where he stood and jumped into the slowly moving water. Son2 followed, and then Joseph.
   The water felt like the cold of spring, chilly but refreshing. The bottom of the pool was deep only in the very center, and they could all touch bottom even there.
   Joseph was eager to continue the conversation on their multiple fathers and the fact that the wife had only one husband.
   Walking into the slow current, Joseph asked, “How can you each have a father and there be only one wife and one husband?”
   For a moment there was no response, then Son1 answered, “I have never had to explain it. It’s so simple, but I realize that I just barely understand it myself.”
   Son2 quickly added, “But how can you have one father who has many wives. If he has many sons, how does he show love to all?”
   And Son1 added, “And if he has more than one wife, how can he be joined equally with each? Does he love each one the same?”
   Son2 came back at Joseph, “And does he love you as much as your brothers, and love your mother as much as his other wives?”
   Joseph was perplexed. His question to them was about something physically impossible. And they saw their questions to him as even more impossible. They had never seen it before.
   Images of yellow poppies and red daffodils flashed through his mind.
   His half-brothers – six by the first wife who bonded together, two each from the two concubines who also bonded together, and then himself, alone. Well, yes, he had a much younger brother, Benjamin, but he was still a child.
   Joseph realized that he had the father. None of the others ever had what Joseph had with the one father, Israel.
   His brothers’ unity against him suddenly became clear. They were jealous for what he had, for what their father had denied them.    Because Jacob had loved Rachel more than Leah, because the concubines had been only a means to more sons, Joseph had reaped the full reward of almost sole sonship at the cost of brotherhood.
   No wonder his half-brothers despised him. He saw the loss in their anger, expressed toward him, but felt toward their father.
   “No, I don’t think my father loves his sons all the same. I know he loves them, but he treats me as his favorite. And I knew it and I used it. That is why they hate me.”
   Joseph’s sorrow rode on this new revelation put into words, anguish written in his face. The brothers were quiet, allowing him to complete what must be said.
   Joseph looked the brothers in the eye in turn. “Your way is better.”
   He sighed and pushed off from the bottom, floating on the water and moving to the bank. “Yes, it should always be like your way.”

   Joseph put on his clothes, damp now against his wet skin, and walked back up to where Teyma was seated. It appeared the trader had fallen asleep.
   Joseph sat, his back against the other side of the tree, sun pouring through the branches sprinkling its drying light on his wet tunic. A deep sense of loss continued to well up inside him, already overflowing and yet the tide of anguish continued to rise.
   He had walked in a cloud of self-deceit, oblivious to the true nature of his existence. He had never understood his brothers until that moment. Truth was a crushing stone on his chest that made breathing difficult.
   Tears welled up in his eyes and he would have sobbed, but he could not take in enough breath. The tears rolled down his cheeks into his thin beard. He closed his eyes but tears still flowed.

   Joseph fell asleep, for the next thing he knew, Teyma was calling for him to be awake. The sun was low, and the campfire’s smoke brought the scent of lamb. Joseph realized how hungry and thirsty he was.
   As he got up and walked with Teyma, he asked “How can this be? How do they each have a father, no matter how many sons they have? I see that my brothers did not believe they had a father, and they hated me for what I had and they did not.”
   “Do you not see? Ah, perhaps it is because of what you do see that you do not understand.”
   Teyma moved toward the others with Joseph at his side as he continued. “You see the father that each son has, just as each son sees the father that is his own. This is as it should be, but often in our world outside the valley, this is not so.
   “The father may love each son in the same amount, but the expression may be different and therefore hidden from the son. The father who plays in a rowdy manner with his rough and tumble son may not have a way to express his oneness with the son who sings songs or the son who plants a garden. There is miscommunication, a loss of understanding, anxiety, and then anger.
   “But here, all can see what should and does exist. The father of each son is in the one man, just as the mother of each daughter is in the one woman. We see what each of the sons sees, the love of the one father manifest in these multiple images of the one man.”
   “But we see these many fathers, too. Are they real?” Joseph’s expression showed that he was still confused.
   “When a child is born, the image of the parent is but a thin cloud, an unformed vapor. As the child comes to know his father or her mother, the image becomes more solid, a flesh and blood person with a distinct character that the child has formed in his own mind.
   “When the image of the parent is fully formed and the character known, the transition to adulthood moves into the next phase, the period of life when each person becomes who they were born to be. The parent is separated and one’s own character is all that shows.”
   Joseph reflected silently on this new way of being. “Why can it not be this way for all?”
   “That is a good question, my lad! Perhaps that is up to the father, wherever he may be and whoever his son may be. The role of the parent is to guide each child into maturity, and here we see it in the flesh, so to speak.”
   “If my brothers had seen what we see here, if they knew the love of my father for me was the same as the love of that same father for each of them, all would have been very different.”
   Teyma let that last thought spoken aloud come back to Joseph. They walked slowly and quietly for a moment before Joseph spoke.
   “God was the Father in the Garden. Adam and Eve disobeyed, and in doing so, they left Him. He still loved them didn’t He? A father still loves a son even if the son does something wrong, doesn’t he?”
   Joseph looked to Teyma, who gave the boy the assurance that he needed.
   “We all go astray at one time or another, like the sheep from your flocks. Perhaps the sheep learns, but more likely there will be another time when he is lost. Even lost, they are a part of the flock. We are indeed like sheep, but I like to think of the world as God’s pasture.”
   Teyma stopped their walking and turned to face Joseph squarely. “Even if He must chastise us, He will protect us. Even if we stray, He will seek us. Even when we forget who He is, He does not forget who we are.”
   Joseph did not even blink, so focused was he on trying to comprehend these words, to fit them into a vision of a world that had become so blurred and uncertain in the last few days.
   What seemed like the destruction of his life when the brothers threw him into the pit and then sold him appeared now to maybe, just maybe, lead to building his life on some better foundation. Lost in his thoughts, he automatically followed when Teyma again began walking.
   As they approached the circle standing and talking around the fire, dusk closing upon them, only Father1 stood in the circle. Or was it Father2? Joseph could not tell, but it became clear when Father2 returned and went to his son. He noticed subtle differences between the two fathers.
   Son1 came over to Joseph. “After you left, my brother and I talked. We decided that the time for doing whatever we wanted was over. Think about doing whatever you want every day. At some point, none of it is fun anymore.”
   Son2 had joined them by then and added, “Yes, it was really more fun being with the fathers in the field. We probably would not have realized this so soon if you had not come, so thank you for showing us another way.”
   Son1 added, “And only when we have become the men we are to be will we have our names given to us. It is time.”
   Joseph nodded in response, amazed that they had learned anything from him.
   The three young men talked more of their different worlds.

   Meanwhile, their mother was tending the lamb roasting on the fire. A pot at the edge of the fire held vegetables with spices steaming in broth. Fig leaves containing hidden delicacies warmed on a hot stone near the fire. Fragrant aromas intermingled and wafted through the air.
   Joseph saw the one father of the two sons talking with his wife as she tended the roasting dinner. The one father, the husband, was always there with his lover, his wife. And he was always present with his sons, for they felt his presence even when they were apart.
   What a gift to see the many men who comprised this one man, the father!

   A feast for Teyma was almost ready to begin. Families from throughout the valley came to the celebration. There were several sets of identical mothers and identical fathers, appropriate for the number of young people present.
   Joseph felt honored to participate, but his realization of what had happened to his brothers kept creeping into his thoughts, particularly as he watched the interaction of his hosts, the boys and their fathers, and the girls with their mothers.
   The beauty of the scene jarred against the reality of his experience. His thoughts tended in the direction of, “If only….”
   Petra sat alone, observing but not participating in the festivities. Joseph sought to learn more from the quiet young man. Perhaps learning Petra’s story would help him with his own.
   Joseph walked over, sat down, and initiated a conversation with Petra.
   Yes, Petra was a solid young man, as his name implied. He was strong and faithful, but his mind was not quick. Joseph pried his story from him but it took many questions.
   Teyma had found Petra as a lad of ten or so years. He was lost, his parents having moved and left the boy behind.
Joseph could tell from the story the great kindness that Teyma had shown the boy. Petra readily followed orders, and he treated everyone with kindness, but he was most decidedly very slow of mind.
   Perhaps Petra’s parents had seen their son’s slow mind and could not afford to continue feeding a child with little potential, a child who they thought could never grow into the man who could care for them in their years of old age.
   Joseph could see there was no initiative beyond eating and sleeping, no hunger in his eyes for a better day. In many ways, Petra was and would be only a large child.
   But Teyma had taken to the boy, given him home and shelter, a purpose and a life. Joseph thought that perhaps this simple life that    Petra had found was not all bad. He lived in a simple world for a simple mind.

   After his visit with Petra, Joseph was relaxed somewhat, allowing the mood of the festivities to creep into his sorrowful heart. He saw a part of life that had been missing from his own playing out in the scene before him. Eventually, the laughter drew him into the spirit of the evening.
   He went early to the blanket provided by Talia, moving far enough from the fire to have some privacy, but close enough to the others to feel part of this strange but happy group of families.
   He fell asleep with tears running down his cheeks, unable to banish the thoughts of what might have been that overran his mind. He cried for his dead mother. He cried for his father who had seemed alone except for his dead wife’s oldest son, that boy now lost to him.     And he cried for himself and his brothers who had never been as brothers.
   Would his father take solace in Benjamin and forget Joseph? Or would he love his lost son as much as his present son?
   Would his brothers ever find their father, each one having a father, and would Israel ever find them, each one as his son, as in this Valley of the Sons? Or must this be done in childhood, in those formative years when learning how the world works? Would he ever see eleven fathers, each standing behind his son, and the one who was father to them all?
   His thoughts returned to the pit and the brothers then selling him.
   His anger grew again, but it no longer held fire inside it. He recognized the same burning ember settling into his gut as when the half-brothers had been mean to him before. Always he had stuffed it deeper inside. He felt the slow burning embers within, ready to burst into flame at any moment, questions hanging above the embers like clouds holding unseen answers that would quench the coals. He waited expectantly, but sleep came first.

​Cleansing  
   Morning came as it was wont to do. Regardless of what had occurred on the day or the night before, the sun always rose.
     Joseph awakened to the sound of the others preparing to set forth into the new day. His sleep had been sound, dreamless, a respite from the dramatic changes that had occurred in the previous two days. He felt ready for a day of walking, distancing himself from his brothers, from his old life.
   Teyma came to him, his good spirits preceding him. Joseph realized that mere anticipation of Teyma’s presence instilled in Joseph some optimism for what lay ahead.
   Teyma’s greeting was as upbeat as he had expected, but when he sat on the blanket beside Joseph, a slightly more serious tone followed.
   “Have you seen any yellow poppies and red daffodils?”
   Joseph’s thoughts tumbled back to his brothers, their evilness against him, and then to the emptiness they had experienced against the fullness he had experienced as son of Israel. Anger and guilt waged war but neither could prevail. He sat tongue-tied, his eyes searching for an answer, but filling with tears instead.
   Teyma understood. “Yes, I thought so. The red poppies are fighting the yellow, and the daffodils are at war, also. We must bring them to peace.”
   Joseph wiped the tears from his face. He was beginning to accept Teyma’s riddles. Rather than searching for an answer now, he waited for the revelation.
   “Is that anger or guilt that weighs down on your heart?”
Joseph said quite honestly through fresh tears, “Both.” And then added, “Why is not every child sent to learn in the Valley of the Sons?     If every child came and saw how the parent was to live with a love that surrounded each child, the world would be a different place.
   “There would be no bitter older brothers, no arrogant favorite children, no spoiled sisters, and no parent not loved equally by every child.”
   Teyma nodded. He waited a moment. Joseph was beginning to be aware of his teacher’s pauses, those moments when the silence spoke to the mind, or to the heart, perhaps.
   “There is no answer to your question, Joseph,” Teyma said softly. He put an arm around Joseph’s shoulder.
   “Go ahead,” Teyma urged. “Weep for your brothers, for yourself, and for every child who knows not the father’s and mother’s love. Let the tears flow.”
   Joseph broke down into sobs that wracked his body. He buried his head between his knees and bawled like a child.

   As his sobs diminished, Teyma said, “That is a good beginning for today’s journey. We will go a little out of our way. There is a plain across the river that you must visit.”
   He slapped Joseph on the cross-legged knee closest to him. “We cannot change the world for everyone else, but we can change the world for you. You have something to bury in that field!”
   Yes, as expected, Teyma offered a statement as enigmatic as was normal.
Teyma got up and went to talk with the others as Joseph rose and folded his blanket. He went down to the river, drinking and washing his face.
   “Something to bury…,” he muttered. He had nothing to bury anywhere except the clothes on his back!
   The others quit their preparations for travel and settled into another day in this place.
   Mother and daughter took to mending. Petra and Kedar went to the river with the donkeys to allow them to drink and graze during this respite. Teyma later mentioned to Joseph that he was pretty sure they would see if they could catch any fish.
   And Teyma and Joseph walked across the shallows of the river, and then walked further perhaps for more than an hour. They went through a couple of fields and the tree lines bounding them.

   A third large field had no trees on its far side. The tall grass gave way to an abrupt rise, a steep but low rim of dirt stretching from one end of the field to the other.
   Teyma stopped at the foot of the incline and offered Joseph some water from his pouch. After drinking some himself, Teyma looked up to the top of the dirt wall, and then back at Joseph.
   “Tell me what you want to do with that anger and guilt.” It was not a question but an order.
   “I thought by going to Egypt to leave it behind,” said Joseph, unsure what other response was possible.
   “Where is that anger and guilt now?”
   Joseph searched. “In the pit of my stomach.”
   Again Teyma’s silence. When Joseph did not go any further, the man asked him, “And when we get to Egypt, where will it be?”
   Joseph nodded. “Yes, buried deep in the pit of my stomach.”
   Teyma smiled. “No need to take it all the way to Egypt. That stuff will eat you alive from the inside out. Climb on up that wall! You’ll know what to do when you get to the top.”
   Again, no choice was offered. Joseph looked up at the steep dirt wall facing him. The top was not that far. He could dig in with his feet and hands and climb up.
   “Typical Teyma,” thought Joseph, having no idea what awaited him above.

   And so he climbed, sliding part way back down once, but making it to the top.
   As he stood at the top, Teyma called up, “What do you see?”
   Joseph looked out over the field, flat and modest in size, supporting a low grass cover, but curiously pocked with mounds of dirt. In the distance, as if he had come up from the other side, a man stood leaning on what appeared to be a long stick, a bare mound of dirt like the others on the ground in front of him.
   As Joseph watched, the man headed toward the edge of the field nearest him, and the long stick that he carried was seen clearly as a spade. The man laid down his spade, and then disappeared over the far edge of the field.
   All was quiet. Nothing moved as Joseph surveyed the field. Then he noticed the spades on his edge of the field. Six of them - three lengths with either thick or narrow handles – leaned against a low rail. The rail nestled perfectly in the fork of a “Y” of two sturdy short posts set into the soft soil.
   Joseph smiled. “I see a spade and a burial ground,” he called out. He laughed and waved down to Teyma.
   Joseph grabbed a medium length spade with the thick handle. It fit his hands perfectly, the weight well balanced in his arms.
   He walked out a bit into the field, past a few mounds still more or less bare, and many more low mounds covered with grass, overgrown and sinking back into the flat field.
   He selected a spot and drove the wooden spade into the earth. The soil was soft, easy to penetrate even with the flat wooden edge. He piled the dirt nearby and struck again.
   The digging went smoothly although eventually he had to step on the edge of the blade to force it deeper into the hole. He had never dug a hole with such energy, such pleasure. Even digging for water had not held such anticipation. The pile of dirt rimming his excavation grew.
   When he had reached a depth where getting dirt out of the hole on the flat blade was becoming a problem, he hit ground that was more solid. The soft earth rested on a layer of hard clay. He judged the hole deep enough and stood up straight.
   Resting as he leaned on the spade, the tiredness in his muscles felt good. As he looked into the freshly dug hole, smelling its warm moist earthiness in the late morning sun, he realized his dilemma.
   How was he to unload these feelings of anger and guilt? Where were they?
   His body gave him his answer.
   Joseph quickly squatted at the edge of the hole. Yes, the morning ritual of going outside the camp with his digging tool, relieving himself, and then covering the shallow hole, had spoken strongly.
   He laughed aloud. Yes, another routine experience had become quite unique!
   Joseph felt as if a burden had been released as he eased back down the steep slope to where Teyma stood waiting.
   “This land is not like any other that I have seen,” said Joseph when he reached the bottom. “Is every place so full of surprises?”
   “For you, Joseph, the answer is ‘Yes!’ Are you ready for the next surprise?”
   “Yes!” But then Joseph thought and asked, “Wait! What is the next surprise?”
   “Then it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?”
   Teyma smiled and turned to walk back to the others. Joseph laughed out loud, the best laugh that he could ever remember.
   “No, it wouldn’t,” and he ran up to Teyma’s side.
   “But first, one thing.” Joseph set out in a run, tracing the trail they had made in coming to the burial ground. He stayed at a full run until he came to the river. Splashing into the shallows where he had crossed earlier, he turned upstream toward the deeper pool, fully submerging when the water came over his waist. He rolled about and splashed until Teyma arrived.
   “Now it has all washed away.” He submerged again and then waded toward Teyma who was crossing in the shallows.
“You are thoroughly soaked,” Teyma remarked drily.
  “Yes, isn’t it wonderful!” affirmed Joseph, not afraid of being the butt of a joke. Teyma laughed and slapped Joseph on his wet back.

   By now it was early afternoon and there was little point in loading the donkeys only to have to stop within a few hours. At least, that was Teyma’s assessment and no one argued.
   Joseph told of his adventure as they sat in the shade and ate fruit, the donkeys quite content to continue their day off, as well.
Kedar and Petra had not caught any fish during the morning, spending most of the time building a trap. They and Joseph decided the three of them would do well when they returned to the water as the afternoon drew to an end.
   Kedar and Petra had built a ‘V’ with rocks. They had made a small opening in the narrow end of the ‘V’ where there was still depth to the water. The ‘V’ pointed into the current and they had piled two lines of rocks leading up into the shallows.
   The three young men walked from the deeper end of the pool, splashing and scaring the fish toward the narrow opening. Invariably, at least one fish would go through the opening and become trapped in the small pool. One of the three then blocked the opening with a large rock.
   Minnows escaped between the rocks while larger fish were held inside. The trapped fish were easy to run up into the shallow water and be picked up.
   Full of a meal of fish and exhausted by another day of revelation, Joseph was ready when the time for sleep came that night.
   His last thought was that he understood the past, but how was he to live the future? He wondered how often God had tried to give him direction, but in his contented ignorance, he had ignored it. Truly, God had taken extreme measures to get Joseph’s attention, but anything less would have been to no avail.
   With anger and guilt exiled, a deep dreamless sleep came easily.

​The Tents of the gods 
   The third full day of his travels with Teyma and his caravan began like any other. The sun rose in the east and Teyma presented a new way of seeing an old world.
   Joseph awoke to the light of a new day, the sun just easing above the horizon into the eastern sky. The river was still near, and he made his way there to wash and drink.
   Teyma was sitting on the bank watching the rising sun. He remained quiet as Joseph drank and washed his face.
Joseph walked toward the man and discovered that he did not know what to call him except by name, Teyma. Was this man just his owner? He seemed more, perhaps a friend, definitely a teacher, and almost another father. No word seemed to cover the complexity of the relationship.
   Perhaps father was a fitting term. Not that the man replaced the father of 18 years here in Canaan, the Jacob/Israel of the God of Abraham, but Teyma had given the term a new meaning, offered a fullness in directions Joseph had not seen from the father of his youth.
   Whether second father, first teacher, or only friend, the title mattered little while still in the presence of the man. Perhaps later, in Egypt, when Teyma and his caravan had gone, there would be a title that was appropriate.
   For now, Joseph simply said, “Good morning, Teyma.”
   Teyma did not begin with a greeting but with a question. “Do you worship the God of your fathers?”
   More cautious in answering Teyma’s questions than he had been in those first days, aware that first impressions are often incorrect,    Joseph considered his answer before affirming his faith in the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.
   And it occurred to him that he did indeed have more than one father, for the effects of his father’s father and that one’s father all had influenced who Joseph now was becoming.
   He did more than just say, “Yes.” He explained. “My fathers have each spoken with God, and God has spoken to me, even if only in my dreams. He is the one God for all men.”
   “Does He govern your life?”
   Joseph recognized the dual nature of the question. He had talked to God before, but he had never stopped to listen. The answer that came into his mind seemed more like the answer that Teyma would have given than his own thought.
   “He governs my life in all that He has placed before me, but He allows me to make the choices of how to respond.”
   Teyma smiled and nodded. “You are growing wise beyond your years, Joseph. When you come into Egypt…indeed, when you come into any new land, you will be confronted by a people who believe in their gods as strongly as you believe in your God.
   “Are you familiar with the other gods, and with the idols of the people who worship them?”
   Joseph remembered the story of his mother stealing idols from her father, Laban. She had stolen her father’s gods, his idols, and hidden them in her tent, concealing them beneath her as she sat and watched Laban search her tent. She had said that this was for Laban’s own good, that her father should not worship stone, a denial of the God who had created everything.
   Never had Joseph seen his father, or his father’s wives, or his sons deny God or worship idols. He knew of people who did, but had never thought much about why they did. He knew these idols had no power. Or at least he had thought they held no power.
   “Yes, I know that there are people who do not worship the God of Abraham, but worship idols, representations of gods.”
   “We have another short journey to make. There is someone that I must take you to see.”
   “Who is it? Why must I meet him?”
   “The answers to those questions may be better understood afterward. Come, let us have a bite to eat.”
   Teyma filled his leather pouch with water and they walked back into the camp.

   The sun was still low when the two men set out for Teyma’s mysterious stranger and destination. They crossed the river at the shallows and began traversing fields.
   Teyma was unusually quiet at first, his expression showing tension or concern, but he became more like himself as the day progressed. Rather than talk of where they were going this day or the events of the past few days, he talked of Egypt and some of his experiences there.
   They journeyed for a whole day, arriving at a small settlement just at dusk. The small amount of food they had brought had long since been eaten, but they had been able to fill the water pouch and suffered no thirst.
They arrived at some sort of settlement. To say village or city did not seem right, for there was no comparison with any place that Joseph had seen before.
The side of a single large tent, reaching higher than Joseph had ever seen, stood in the distance squarely before them. There were smaller tents scattered around it, and some tables were interspersed with these.
   Dozens of people were milling about the area in front of the tent, some entering, some emerging during the time Joseph and Teyma walked toward them.
   “What is this?” Joseph asked.
   “What you see is yours to experience.”
   Joseph could see now that most of the tables held food while the others had trinkets, jewelry, bits of cloth or pottery, and such. The smaller tents were open and allowed people enter to peruse selections of larger items, such as clothing, blankets, tent fabric, and such.
Music floated in the air from different directions, as well as the aroma of food and the sounds of people laughing and talking.
   The atmosphere was overwhelming to Joseph, who had been brought up in the wide open spaces apart from any large gathering of people.
   After walking through a small part of the hustle and bustle, Joseph turned to ask Teyma what the big tent held, but Teyma stood waiting where he and Joseph had first stopped at a small distance from the spectacle. Joseph yelled out his question.
   “That is for you to discover, Joseph!” came Teyma’s response through the noise of the crowd.
Joseph turned and walked deeper into this fantasy world until he was standing in front of a man with a trimmed straight beard talking at an almost unintelligible speed.
   “Step right up, men, women, and children. All are invited inside the big tent, the largest collection of gods that you will find anywhere on earth. Yes, gods for every man, woman and child; for every nation, city, or tent; for every purpose from shepherding to sheering, from sowing to reaping.
   “Yes, your very own god, waiting for you, ready to be served and to serve. Yes, your tit for tat gods. You give to them, they give to you! ALL your wishes granted. Buy your own….”
   Joseph grew weary just listening to the voice, the rhythm hypnotic, the urgency almost drawing him forward.
   He saw a couple of families go in. And then a man and a woman and a small child, barely able to walk, emerged.
   The man and the woman, arguing loudly, each carried an idol tucked under one arm. The other arm of each swung wildly in the air as they yelled at one another, each scoring points with their hand on an invisible scoreboard.
   The child struggled under the burden of its own idol, smaller, but still more than the toddler could handle. He kept his eyes fixed on his arguing parents as he stumbled, the large weight dragging him forward too quickly for his small feet. He tripped and fell, but hastened to pick up the stone image and hurry forward as his parents moved further ahead, oblivious to his difficulties.
   Another man came out carrying a large stone idol, probably half his weight and clearly a burden. But he exuded joy as a proud woman walked a step beside and a step behind.
   The man at the front of the tent continued his rapid fire invitation, occasionally commenting on the happy customers leaving.
   Joseph could hardly believe what his eyes were seeing, and then he realized the headmaster was directing his rapid fire speech at Joseph – by name!
   “And you, Joseph, the dreamer, step right inside and claim your idol, claim the power you have lost. Find the god who will do your battles, right your wrongs, and pick you up from the dust where you have been laid low.”
   The speech went on for another moment before Joseph felt himself urged through the tent opening into the cavernous space beyond.
Inside were the trees and stream that had existed before the tent had been erected. Indeed, there were no other walls to the tent beyond the impressive façade. The bounds of the exhibition were marked with ropes that guided people in through the entrance side and out through the exit side.
   Separate exhibits of idols were arranged so that everyone followed a circle, stepping in front of each collection where men similar to the speaker out front (but not so loud) urged people to buy from their unique selection of gods.
   The first table were gods for prosperity and health, a variety of stone pieces fashioned into someone’s idea of what the particular god should look like. Most were painted, giving them the appropriate appearance for their tasks. These were strong looking smiling gods.    There were different sizes with different prices. As could be imagined, the sellers urged you to spend the most to receive the most.
   Joseph realized that Teyma had not entered, probably still at a distance. He started to retreat but found himself walking against a fresh tide of people entering. The seller grabbed him by the arm, trying to interest him in a very toothy god, just what was needed for a young man establishing his own home.
   When Joseph finally extricated himself from the man’s grip, he was told he must continue through the tent, no exit was allowed through the entrance.

   Joseph allowed himself to be pulled along by the crowd, some of whom stopped at each booth as the line progressed, but were replaced by others who left the booths they passed.
   The next booth had gods in the shapes of animals, with the seller assuring people they would receive the strength of the ox, the wisdom of the owl, the speed of the deer, or the cunning of the snake with their purchase of the appropriate likeness. Some idols were on branches in the trees immediately beside or behind the display while others were staged in their shadows or stood prominently on the front table.
   Next was a table with gods for the herbs, trees, and vegetation, particularly those that yielded food. The original tree and bushes of the spot were part of the display and held appropriate gods in addition to those on the table.
   There were gods of commerce, and then gods dedicated to travel. Model ships held their gods while model donkeys bore others. The displays were quite impressive.
   The light seemed dimmer as he began the return part of the circle. Indeed, full night was now upon them outside, and here the fires were fewer, the torches almost non-existent, compared with the entrance area.

   The next table held gods dedicated to warfare. Fine wooden swords and knives with intricately carved handles adorned the table, and many of the gods held their own versions of these weapons.
The seller here was larger, darker, and his voice almost threatening in his call for customers. Women and children slipped past, leaning against the far rope as much as possible, and many men appeared to pass at some distance, moving as quickly as possible without appearing intimidated.
   But there were other men who lingered over the weapons and the gods, sometimes sparring with one another. Joseph could see why this seller was a bit of a warrior himself, for he had to command peace more than once.

   The next exhibit held the fertility gods, although there were far more goddesses present here. There had been female versions on some of the other tables, but here they were dominant, their attributes exaggerated and emphasized.
   There was still the male seller, but around him were women who showed more skin than Joseph had seen before in a public setting.    Again, the women and children touring the exhibits moved quickly past, but the men lingered, that is, if their wives did not drag them away.
   Joseph was startled when one of the exhibit’s women suddenly appeared beside him, calling his name. She smiled sweetly and demurely, holding his arm lightly in one hand.
   “My name is Meera, and you are Joseph, the dreamer. Am I correct?” She spoke softly, head slightly lowered, while holding his gaze with her eyes.
   “Come, there is a special group of gods for dreamers.” She began to gently pull him out of the path of the public and behind the displays on the long table, statues of undressed women in poses that Joseph could not have imagined.
   “No, there is no need,” he said, jerking his arm from her grasp.
   “Oh, but you will be missing so much if you do not at least see the special god that is your perfect match. He is not only the god of dreams, but he is the god of the head of households.”
   She bowed her head demurely and pointed to a bronze statue in the back, in the shadows beneath the branches of a tree. “And your time for becoming the head of your household is waiting for you.”
   Joseph looked more closely, walking in the direction Meera had indicated. The two foot statue appeared to be himself. And it was cast in bronze instead of chiseled in stone.
   “What does this mean?” he asked, uncertainty and a bit of fear lifting his voice a full note higher.   
   His hostess showed concern, bowing her head again. She reached out to hold his arm. “Do not be afraid! This is simply the respect you have earned for your abilities, for you future.
   “This god will benefit you, allow you to dream greater dreams, allow you to make a greater impact on the world. Indeed, your brothers and father will bow to you!”
   She continued speaking, but Joseph was too stunned to hear, his mind stuck on the revelation of her intimate knowledge of him. Joseph shook his arm free of her grasp again, backing away.
   Again, Meera took a submissive pose. “Your future awaits you, Joseph.” Her eyes focused intently on Joseph’s eyes, and her voice deepened to the tone of command, “Go into it boldly!”
   Her head was raised straight in front of him, presenting a challenge to him. Her eyes fixed on his eyes to maintain her hold on him. She swayed slightly from side to side to a beat that he heard softly in the distance.
   “And if you would like, I could come with you and the god before you. I would be your companion on your journey.”
   Joseph had been easing himself backward, away from whatever was happening in front of him. By now, he had backed into the table in the front of the exhibit, but he was still on the wrong side of the table. He needed to go around to the other side to get into the flow of people moving toward the exit.
   The woman was enticing, desirable, and he was tempted. But suddenly he saw her as a flame, and if he drew near, she would consume him.
   Meera stood blocking his escape in one direction. The man who had been talking at the front of the exhibit blocked his escape in the other direction.
   He had a sense of standing in the Garden of Eden, the serpent behind him and the fruit dangling before him.
   She was but a young woman, smaller than he. He could simply brush past her, pushing her aside.
   Suddenly he felt a nudge from behind, the head of the bronze statue pushing into his back. He looked over his shoulder to see the seller had come around behind him, lifted the statue and was pressing it against Joseph.
   “Take it, son. It is your destiny, your future that lies before you. And if you will pray to this god, this image so like yourself, you shall be as a god.”
   The man’s voice was softer than Joseph expected, the man’s eyes wide as if in wonder, as if he were looking at a god at that very moment.
   Joseph turned and pushed the head of the statue away from him.
   “No!” He said with enough emphasis that half the crowd in the tent heard him and turned to see what was happening.
   Joseph turned to the young woman advancing toward him and, in a softer voice, again emphatically said, “No!”
   By now the entire crowd was quiet, intent on what was happening in the fertility display. Joseph had an eerie sense of some cosmic drama playing out, a sense of a larger stage, and an innumerable audience.
   The woman was speaking again, “This is for you, Joseph.” And as she began approaching again, continued, “It is all about you.”
   As she stretched her hand toward him again, he cried out in a strong voice, “No! I will not!” He hesitated a split second before continuing, “It is not about me. It….”
   In an instant, the exhibits, the people, and the tent façade, all evaporated into thin air. There were no sounds, no signs of anything having been in the spot other than nature – the grass and bushes and trees that now surrounded him stood bare of any idols.
   There was now a moon and stars above, which he had not been able to see while on the path through the exhibits.
   Joseph finished his statement in a soft, slow voice, “…is about God.”
   He turned in a circle twice looking for some remnant of the crowd, the idols, and the elaborate stage, anything to help him make sense of what had occurred.
   Joseph stood alone in an open space with stands of trees scattered about.
   Teyma came from beneath a tree where he must have been waiting. He put an arm around Joseph’s shoulders.
   “Well done, son. I could not tell you of what was to come. Indeed, I did not know what nature it would take. A person who knows he is being tested is very different from someone who believes his future is at stake.”
   Joseph’s amazement had increased. “You…you knew what was going to happen?”
   “Oh, no, no. Well, at least, not exactly. I could only bring you here and let you decide the direction for your future. How that was to occur, I did not know.
   “I assumed you had some vision, for you stood in awe for a moment. And then you began walking through the field in a circle, stopping and talking as if someone stood before you. And eventually you stood there saying, ‘It is about God.’”
   “You did not see the huge tent, the people coming and going, and all the idols that were displayed for sale?”
   “No, that was all for your eyes only. That was the test. And you emerged from it rather than being swallowed by it.
   “Give thanks to God. And now, let us rest for the night. There is a fig tree full of figs, and I think we will rest well.” He offered Joseph water, and he took it gladly.
   Joseph then realized just how hungry he felt. Moving quickly toward the fruit, Joseph said, “I am glad that this is not just a vision!’
   They had a light meal and water and fell asleep in the shadow cast by the moon upon the fig tree.

   Joseph woke early the next morning, a vision in his mind before there was any light for him to see. No, not a dream, just a memory from what his father had spoken to him long ago.
   Jacob was telling his sons of Abraham, his grandfather, and Isaac, his father. God had spoken to all three men, assuring them of the gift of the land of Canaan to their heirs, and that all of the earth would be blessed as a result.
   Joseph had been young at that time, but he remembered. And more than once his father had mentioned stories from those days long past.
   The desire to go back to his father was strong. The fear of his brothers was all that prevented his return. But were the promises to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob the reason that the events of the last few days were necessary?
   If the family all remained in Canaan, how could all families of the earth be blessed?
   He remembered picturing his father and the dream of the ladder, angels ascending and descending. And at the top of the ladder was God, the I AM, eternally existing above all and in all. He could not imagine the voice that spoke except as his father’s voice. How could anyone hear and not bow in awe and wonder!
   He thought of the dreams that he had revealed to his brothers, dreams that seemed far less meaningful than what had happened to his father and to the exchanges between Isaac and God, and between Abraham and God.
   The interpretation of his dreams had been about himself, not his descendants through the ages or the people beyond his family.
   How often had God spoken to Joseph in other dreams, dreams he did not remember or did not understand?
   A sense of smallness, an awareness of himself in the perspective of a huge world, a world that was growing larger with each day that passed, caused a great humbleness to spread through every fiber of his being. A chilly emptiness settled over him like a damp fog.
   Proud of his dreams, even secretly taking joy in his brothers’ derisive “little dreamer,” he now felt ashamed of the emphasis he had put on himself. And his pride in the coat of many colors from his father, a special gift to him alone, now caused him anguish!
   He had forgotten his mother’s ring, a gold band that she had worn and now so snugly adorned the small finger of his right hand. He had worn it since her death and now was almost oblivious to it, another part of his body that existed and endured without his conscious effort.
   Looking at the ring now, he thought it a symbol from another time, an adornment no longer appropriate. But his memory of Rachel’s love and tenderness kept the ring solidly in place.
   Joseph realized that he had sought honor where others should receive it. Not just God, but also his father, and his mother, too. And he had excluded his brothers.
   In the Valley of the Sons, the brothers would have been raised in the certainty of their father’s love, no favoritism for any son or even for any wife.
   Above all, God was the Father who was to be honored.
   There had been no dreams since his brothers’ betrayal. Perhaps there would be no more. He had not cherished what had been given to him. He had not considered those gifts from God in the perspective of his lineage.
   He was young. God was growing him. To allow growth, Joseph must yield to the God of his fathers.
   The two dreams that he had recently told his brothers passed through his mind.
   In the first, he and his brothers had been binding sheaves of wheat in the field. Joseph’s sheaf had arisen and stood upright. The other eleven sheaves, his brothers, had stood around and bowed to his sheaf.
   In the second, the sun, the moon, and the eleven stars bowed to Joseph. This dream he had also told to his father since the sun and moon represented Joseph’s father and mother.
   His father had been angrier than his brothers! The brothers were jealous, and he had done nothing to soften the anger that grew into their hatred. Indeed, he had provoked it without concern or regret. And he had showed no humility toward his father.
   Was this a real life dream, this exile from his family into another part of the world? Was this necessary because Joseph would not hear God’s whispers as Joseph basked in his father’s love, that he would not hear God’s warnings spoken louder in his brothers’ union against him?
   Now he must learn the lessons in a more difficult manner.
   The assurance that he had received was that this was all a test. With God in control, Joseph had only to yield to God in whatever way the tests of life were manifest.
   Teyma by now had risen and prepared himself for the return. It took a full day to return, and they arrived at dusk, ready for a meal and sleep.

​Trading for Idols 
   Teyma and Joseph again slept late the next morning. The others were ready to go, restless after two days of no movement. Their preparations for travel were not quiet, but the sun was warm before Joseph woke.
   He helped with what little was yet to be made ready, and the caravan moved forward soon after.
Joseph was grateful for a day of walking, although he would have preferred a faster pace. He laughed out loud at the thought. He did not even know where their next destination was or what it held. A new mystery seemed to unfold with each day, and he knew there were more.
   Indeed, their travels were cut short.
   Near midday they encountered a circle of tents and a number of people moving about among them. Blankets with various items were spread on the ground in front and between the tents.
   Donkeys grazed in a nearby area, and even a couple of camels were off to the side, each of the animals bedecked in colors of different caravans. Each traveling group had colors associated with it for easy identification, whether at a distance, or in a crowd, as here.
   Joseph waited for Teyma to take the lead in approaching them, or even in mentioning them. Not nearly as impressive as the tent of the gods, Joseph waited to be sure that everyone else also saw this tent city in the wilderness.
   Teyma had been walking with his son at the lead of the donkeys. He now dropped back and signaled for Joseph and Petra to come from the rear to where Talia and Miriam were walking beside the center donkey.
   When everyone was together, Teyma said, “Three caravans have crossed paths here, and there is a great deal of trading going on, as well as a lot of discussion of events in the lands where they have been. We are fortunate to have arrived at this time!”
   Teyma was very excited, but his expression changed as he warned, “But mind you, these are sharp traders, men of great skill. Do not, I repeat, do not trade anything until you consult me first. We are not here to trade merchandise, only news. And perhaps some food, but I will do that.
   “Is that clear?” His focus was on Petra and Joseph.
   Both young men nodded their agreement.
   “Excellent,” Teyma beamed. “We will prepare camp over there,” indicating a stand of trees somewhat separate from the other caravans.
   All of them pitched in and unloaded the donkeys, arranging their camp for the night. Petra and Joseph took the donkeys to an area for grazing, leaving them with long tethers tied to a tree.
   Although they were not to buy anything, Talia and Miriam clearly had different interests from the men. Teyma agreed that they could go separately, looking at the household goods and visiting with the women, on the condition that Kedar went with them.
   Kedar did not hesitate to show his frustration and object, but Teyma sternly reminded the young man of his role as protector of the family. He must accompany the women to ensure they came to no harm.
   And thus it was that two groups of three headed toward the traders’ circle. Teyma, Joseph, and Petra headed toward the end where the men had tended to congregate. Kedar and the two women angled toward the other end.
   As they neared the circle, Teyma reminded the two with him that they were not to initiate or to respond to an invitation to trade. If a trade was to be made, Teyma would do it. Petra and Joseph nodded obediently.
   Teyma suggested they make a quick walk among the displays that were of interest: harnesses, rope, male clothing, tent related goods, tools, and such.
   They had gone deep into the displays when one of the traders approached Joseph.
   “Good afternoon, sir. I am Ali. I see a beautiful gold ring on your finger. Would you be willing to trade it for something that I have to offer here?”
   Ali pulled Joseph aside as if to offer a particular item from his display, but Joseph and Teyma in unison cut him off.
   “No,” they said simultaneously, perhaps coming across a bit more forcefully than intended.
   Joseph withdrew his arm as Teyma said in a conciliatory tone, “Thank you, but we would like to explore the offerings before we do any trading.”
   Taking Ali’s arm and moving away from Joseph and Petra, he continued in a more conversational tone, “Tell me, please, where have you traveled? What have you seen?”
   Ali seemed only too eager to tell of his travels and the two men moved further away.
   Meanwhile, Joseph looked at the ring on his finger and thought, “I have no place to conceal this that I am sure it would be secure.”
   Petra suggested, “I could take it back to our camp for you. Talia has such things and I could put it with hers.”
   Joseph considered. He was reluctant to part with this memory of his mother even briefly, but he also did not want it to arouse too much interest.
   “Thank you, Petra. That would be good of you.” Joseph handed the man his ring, and Tetra walked back through the crowd toward their camp.
   Joseph was eager to join Teyma and participate in the talk of events. This was a great way to begin to enlarge his world.
He followed and joined Teyma with two other men who were speaking of events in the Egyptian delta. People from the east, shepherds like Joseph’s family and traders, seemed to be settling in larger numbers in the fertile area of northern Egypt.
   Teyma expressed more interest in the area of Memphis, Fayum, and perhaps as far upriver as Thebes, for these were the seats of power and wealth. The delta, however, seemed to hold greater potential in terms of land and water.
   The afternoon was passed in conversations with different traders, each with slightly different news. They also had their products for sale, but Teyma appeared uninterested. He was not even interested in displaying his goods for the others. As he explained later, his goods were already sold to specific buyers in Egypt in his mind, and he did not want to disappoint good customers of long standing.
   But those conversations were for Teyma. Before they left the first man with whom they visited, the subject of Joseph as a dreamer and as an interpreter of dreams came up. The man said that he had been troubled by a recurring dream, but he had no understanding of why the dream came or what it meant.
   Would Joseph consider interpreting for him, in exchange for something from his goods? Joseph agreed, and they went apart to talk privately.
   They went to one of the empty tents and sat on rugs laid out for just such meetings, host and guest able to speak in private if the normal public duel should hamper their negotiations.
   The man identified himself as Abida, a descendant of Midian, and Joseph introduced himself as Joseph, son of Abraham and Isaac and Jacob.
   Abida proceeded to tell Joseph of his recurring dream, a dream he had dreamed almost every night for two weeks, sometimes with one ending, sometimes with another.
   “There is a bird hopping along the ground. He flies a little and will sit in the branch of a tree. But he always comes back to the ground, always landing and then walking the way birds do.
   “But in the grass waiting ahead of him there is always a snake, slithering but not leaving, as if patiently waiting for the time to strike. And when the bird lands in a tree, the snake looks up, its tongue darting out as if to taste the little bird.
   “The little bird flies and sits on a stone across a stream. He walks further and again flits across a stream. When he arrives at the third stream, the bird takes some water. This is where the snake has been waiting, and he bites the bird, taking it away in its mouth.
   “Sometimes the dream ends this way, the snake taking the bird in its mouth. But sometimes, the little bird waits before starting his journey. He watches the moon go from a sliver of a crescent to full moon. Then the bird starts his journey.
   “In this dream, the snake is waiting, but it grows lonely waiting so long. By the time the little bird arrives, the snake is tame, like a pet for the bird, who strokes it with his wings.
   “What do these dreams mean?”
   Joseph considered the story. He asked about the man’s home, his travels and his destination.
   As Abida concluded his story, the solution to the dream was as Joseph had suspected.
   “My destination is the delta region of Egypt, to trade with the wanderers from the east who have settled there.”
Joseph asked, “And there you will be crossing the branches of the Nile, crossing over water to land, several times?”
   “Yes,” nodded Abida, and then he realized the implication. “Is the snake waiting for me there?”
   Joseph replied, “The snake is death. Perhaps it is poison that will be the final blow, but the dream tells us that death awaits you there. That is the first dream.
   "The second dream tells us that if you wait for two weeks, half the cycle of the moon, the ending will be different."
   Abida absorbed the implications of Joseph’s interpretation. “But why? Why is death waiting for me there, or a friend if I wait?”
   “Perhaps it is an accident,” replied Joseph, “but the snake is a stealthy animal and strikes when no one suspects. Is there a snake waiting for you in Egypt?”
   Abida did not have to think about it for long. “I took a wife from there, and her father and brothers were not pleased she was marrying a foreigner. We left in a bit of a hurry, but it has been three years.”
   The man’s face expressed surprise at some unknown realization.
   “They live at the third river. They ferry people on that river. So, they are waiting for me still, are they?”
   “The dream suggests that this is true,” affirmed Joseph.
   “I do not have to go to the delta in Egypt. I had thought we might gain the affection of her family again, now that she is with child. But if it is not safe, there are many places south and east of Arabia for me and my wife to go.”
   Joseph reminded Abida, “But the second dream says that if you wait for two weeks, there will be friendship waiting, not death.”
Abida considered the interpretations. If he went to Arabia, all would be well. But if he waited two weeks, for some reason there would be reconciliation.
   “What would you do, Joseph?” Abida asked hopefully.
   “You have had the dream. There is a voice that tells me the meaning, shows me as though a light shines where there was darkness. For me, God who created all things is telling us something.
“You now have heard what I have heard. The decision must be yours.”
   Abida understood. Some decisions do not belong to others.
   “My wife wants very much to reunite with her father. I want that, as well. The wait is worth the reward, and the reward is worth the risk.”
   His voice held firm conviction. “Thank you, Joseph!”
   “You are welcome, my friend. Your journey may be safer because you have delayed reaching your destination.”
   “Yes, yes. Now come, let me show you what I have to sell. Pick anything that you want and it is yours!’
   Joseph walked out with Abida and looked at the objects spread before him.
   Before selecting, he asked if Abida still prayed to the God of Abraham.
   “Yes, of course. He is the great God of whom you spoke.” And then indicating a few idols among his display, he added, “And these have been favorites of mine, also.”
   “The God of Abraham has given me dreams, and He is the one who interprets them. He is the God who made us and who orders the world about us.” Joseph waved his arm to encompass the world around them for emphasis. “He is the one Interpreter of your dreams, Abida.
   “Give me your idols, and I will destroy them. That will be payment enough for me.”
   Abida hesitated for only a moment. He picked up the idols, placing them all in two coarse bags. He handed the bags to Joseph.
   “Do with them as you will. The God of Abraham be with you!”
   
   Abida immediately began telling his friends of Joseph’s skill in interpreting dreams. Within a manner of minutes, there were several men waiting turn for him to interpret their dreams.
   Teyma seemed to be in an intense conversation several tents away, and Kedar and the women were still on the opposite end of the displays. A momentary feeling of pity passed over Joseph as he saw Kedar standing with his arms folded while several women were engaged in talking enthusiastically, including his mother and sister.
   Joseph looked around, but Petra was not to be seen.
   Over the next few hours, Joseph listened to stories of dreams, questioned the men about their lives, and showed them interpretations that were greatly appreciated.
   Only subconsciously was Joseph aware of the role he was playing. He was representing God to these people, and he must be in tune with the heavenly presence that he knew was all around this place. He listened, to the men before him and to a voice so silent in his mind that he must strain to hear it.
   The predictions of good fortune were far more easily presented than those that were forebodings of tragedy. He found himself having to negotiate through the perils of being the bearer of bad news while not understating the events foretold.
As the afternoon progressed, the men more readily understood the price of dream interpretation: yielding their idols and acknowledging the God of Abraham, not as the supreme God, but as the only God.
Joseph emphasized this was not a transaction made for a moment, but a relationship that must develop throughout life so that the men became aware of God’s character, His presence in their daily lives.
By the end of the afternoon, Joseph felt he had learned as much as those whom he had counselled. His knowledge of the world had expanded, and the varied nature of his fellow men was far more evident to him. And even his relationship with God felt stronger.
He had a good feeling, a sense that all would be well indeed.
Everyone would go their separate ways in the morning. Abida’s caravan that had been headed to Egypt would move down the river, declining to go with Teyma, whose caravan would go forward alone.
The events of the last several days kept Joseph from even trying to guess what the next day held, much less the future beyond that.
For now, he had several bags of idols to take to the river. With the help of Teyma and Petra, they would smash them against each other. Large rocks from the river’s edge could be used for crushing the final images.

​The Lost Ring 
Over dinner that night, everyone had much to talk about, everyone that is, except Petra. He seemed to be holding back, and Joseph realized that Petra had never returned to the trader’s area, at least, not as far as he was aware.
Joseph did not mention any specifics of his dream interpretation. With Teyma talking, there was enough for people to hear without Joseph’s additions.
And Talia, who normally was quiet and let the men talk (as if Joseph was a visitor and she must observe unspoken rules), spoke of what she had learned from the female travelers.
Looking at the reserved Petra again, Joseph asked him across the space between them, “What did you think of it all, Petra?”
The young man put on his shy face, although normally he had no trouble speaking among his adopted family. As if he had been waiting for an invitation, he said “Wait here,” and ran toward the tent of Teyma and Talia.
In a moment he emerged holding something in his hand and proceeded to Joseph. Standing before his friend, he smiled proudly, “See!”
In his open hand were four silver rings of slightly different sizes.
“What are these?” asked Joseph. And then with a sudden realization asked, “Where is my gold ring?”
Petra smiled and said, “But see. There are four now!”
Joseph was at a loss as Petra continued, “When you gave me the ring, a man, one of the traders, saw me leave with it. He came and asked if we could trade, his silver ring for the gold one in my hand.”
I said, “No. That is not a good trade.”
Then he offered me two silver rings and I said “No,” again.
Smiling at his bargaining prowess, Petra said, “And then he offered me four silver rings! Isn’t that great! Now you have four rings instead of one.”
Petra stood smiling, waiting for Joseph’s blessing on his shrewd transaction.
Joseph felt his anger rising and his face flush, every muscle in his being tensed at the foolish thing Petra had done. He almost lashed out verbally, but held his tongue.
Teyma and the others had gathered around as Petra was telling his story, and they stood looking at the rings in Petra’s hand, understanding Joseph’s despair and anger.
Teyma spoke sternly. “What did I say about trading with those people?”
The tone caught Petra off guard and the smile disappeared.
“You said not to trade, that any trade would be made by you.”
Trying to salvage the situation, he persisted, “But one ring got Joseph four rings, four pretty rings.”
Joseph had picked up one of the rings. They were silver in color, but the weight was less than he expected, the metal something less valuable than silver. And, of course, they were not his mother’s ring.
Rather than confront Petra in anger, a useless display of loss of self-control at this point, Joseph turned away and walked quickly into the darkness beyond the firelight’s edge.
He heard Teyma beginning to explain to Petra what the boy had done through his disobedience.
Moments later, some distance from the camp, Joseph heard Petra’s loud plaintive cry, “I am sorry, Joseph!” He could hear the tears in the words.
Joseph broke into a run to release the pent up energy that he longed to unleash on Petra. His eyes filled with tears and he pressed harder in his run along the path they had come.
As he ran full speed, as the energy began to leak out of him and he felt the sweat on his brow and back, Joseph considered the anger that he had once felt for his brothers. That was the feeling within him now. He began to calm down, to put things in perspective.
His memory of his mother was alive in him. That memory was not in the ring, and when Joseph died, the spirit of Rachel would not be attached to that ring any more than it was in the moments that it had been on his finger.
Petra’s deed had been innocent, even an act of love. The boy/man that Petra forever would be was incapable of harmful intent, but others could take advantage of him. The twisting of his good deed into a source of hurt for Joseph was unfortunate, but it was done.
Repair of the friendship was the important issue. Joseph had received mercy in the form of Teyma passing by the pit and providing for Joseph’s rescue, and this was an opportunity to pass that mercy on to another.
His pace had slowed and he now came to a stop, breathing heavily, feeling the exhilaration of the energy flowing through him overriding the heartfelt loss of the ring.
It was a ring, a piece of metal. Petra was a friend, a companion, who wished Joseph only good.
Joseph began his walk back to the camp to repair the damage.
The value of the mercy that had been shown to Joseph never seemed greater than at this moment.
Arriving back at camp, he found Teyma still talking with Petra. When Petra saw Joseph he turned his head.
Joseph walked up to Petra and turned him so they stood face to face. He then hugged his friend and said, “All is well. All is forgiven.”
Petra’s body was wracked with sobs, but he slowly calmed down as the words had their intended effect.
Petra pulled back from the embrace and attempted to wipe the tear tracks from his face. “Is it alright, Joseph? I lost your ring.”
Joseph smiled and said, “Trading my ring was not the best thing. Obeying Teyma would have been the best thing.”
Seeing the four silver rings lying on a mat where Petra had left them, Joseph picked them up.
“Petra, these rings will look good on you. Give me your hand.”
Petra protested, “But they are yours, bought with your ring, Joseph.”
“They are mine to give, and I give them to you with a purpose.”
Joseph reached out and took Petra’s left arm, asking him to hold his hand in front of him. He then selected the smaller of the two sizes of rings and placed it on Petra’s smallest finger. The ring fit well.
Looking at the larger rings, Joseph took one and tried it on Petra’s first finger. It, too, fit well. He asked for Petra’s right hand and placed the remaining two rings on the first and fourth fingers.
While Petra was looking at the rings and flexing his fingers, Joseph said, “The purpose of the rings, Petra, is to remind you to be obedient to your master: first to God and what He commands, and then to Teyma and what he commands.
“When you look at these rings, you will remember their purpose. They are yours. Blessings upon them, and blessings upon you, Petra.”
Petra almost wept again as he hugged Joseph, unable to express words.
The moment was done, and Joseph was ready to retire. Every day seemed to be one that exhausted his energy, moving his emotions from peaks to valleys and back again.
And yet these swings seemed to be less with each day. Something kept him closer to a level plane, the lows not so deep, the highs perhaps higher, and the times in between higher than they used to be. Balance was closer to joy than he had ever experienced.
He felt this in both his heart and brain, as if the two were now in unison. The peace exuding from Teyma always was felt by those near him, but Joseph realized that the greater effect was from the Source of joy and peace.
These were reassuring thoughts as he bid Teyma and Petra good night, and started into the shadows where his blanket waited for him. He paused and turned.
“Teyma, what does tomorrow hold?”
Teyma shrugged. “Who can say?”
Joseph could only laugh and proceed to his blanket.
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