A Girl Named Mary

Mary Jo Nickum

A Girl Named Mary;

the early life of the girl who would become

the mother of Jesus

About Language

The language spoken by the characters in this book would have been Aramaic. You are reading a work written in modern English for young readers.

A Work of Fiction

This is a work of fiction. Although loosely based on stories found in the Bible, many of the events and characters described here are products of the author’s imagination.

A Girl Named Mary

Table of Contents

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Foreword by Rev. Kebba Buckley Button

Prologue

Chapter 1Herod’s Palace

2The Return Home

3Herod’s Guests

4Mary’s Birth

5Little Mary

6Kidnapped

7Talitha

8Coming of Age

9A Husband for Mary?

10  Betrothal

11Marriage

12A Child is Born

Epilogue

Afterword

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Forward

In this book, Mary Nickum brings to life the experience of Mary, the mother of Jesus. The author asks What if? with her fresh perspective. She evokes our memories of iconic stories, yet gives them historic color and the characters vivid personalities...with the twist of possibility. The reader is invited to consider Mary afresh, as if for the first time.

Readers somewhat familiar with the Bible, at first, may be surprised at this telling of these years in the life of young Mary. However, Bible historians support the interpretation that favorite Bible narratives may have been written or edited by more than one hand and for more than one purpose. For example, Matthew and Luke tell us that Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, delivered there, in a stable, because his parents had to go to register with Roman authorities. However, the only Roman imperial census in that region did not take place until 6 CE, too late to fit with any narrative about Jesus’ birth. Why might anyone, then, adjust this gospel to show the Holy Family having to go to Bethlehem of Judea? Bible writers had a preference to tie stories back to previous history and prophecy. And, the prophet Micah had prophesied that the Messiah would come from Bethlehem in Judea. However, most scriptural references to Jesus’ origins describe him as being from Nazareth, in the district of Galilee. Other than the birth stories in Matthew and Luke, there is no mention anywhere in the New Testament of Jesus being born in Bethlehem (Diarmaid MacCulloch, 2009). 

Another explanation of Jesus being born in Bethlehem is based on His being born in a different Bethlehem. Bethlehem of Galilee, only about 6 miles northwest of Nazareth and 18 miles east of modern Haifa, is where many scholars believe Jesus may have been born. Aviram Oshri of the Israeli Antiquities Authority has said, in fact, there was no other viable Bethlehem in Judea during the time of Jesus’ life. He has said there is evidence of a thriving community there during the Iron Age, up to 550 BCE and, from the sixth century CE, but nothing to show there was a living town there during Jesus’ life (Marissa Larson, 2008). In her narrative, the author uses only the northern Bethlehem, a few miles from where Mary and Joseph lived, in Galilee.

To read this book is to find new love for the people of Galilee and for the Holy Family. Explore this book to understand their daily life routines and their cultural life under the rule of Herod the Great. Read this book slowly, feel the sunshine and dust, listen to the sheep bleat, smell Levi’s wine, and learn to respect and love Mary.

Nickum has taken on the ambitious project of bringing young Mary vividly to life. And she has succeeded so completely the reader will be asking, what happens to the child, Jesus? before remembering that so much has been written about him. If we are fortunate, perhaps Nickum will write the next book, and tell us, vividly, what happens to that little child Mary brings forth.

Rev. Kebba Buckley Button

Bethlehem of Galilee, 4 BCE

Prologue

Word of strange omens circulated among the people of Galilee that year. Mary had heard about flashes of light in the starry skies; showers of shooting stars; trembling earth underfoot. Only yesterday, women at the well said their husbands told of a strange wind blowing that sounded like women singing hymns. Someone had seen a white ship on the Sea of Galilee with no one onboard. Lambs were born with no eyes. Birds hatched without wings.

Mary lay on the straw mattress staring at the soft light from the oil lamp on the opposite side of the small burlap tent. Earlier, when her water had broken, her sister-in-law, Lydia, had gently led Mary to the tent to await the child’s birth. Mary’s mother, Anne, sat in a chair near her, but neither woman spoke. Anne thought of her grandchild soon to be born and hoped the birth would be easier than Mary’s had been for her. She wondered what Mary was thinking, but chose not to interrupt her daughter’s thoughts. 

Mary tried to think about the child who would soon enter her life, but her mind kept returning to the omens. What could they mean? The white ship, the flashing lights, the shooting stars, and the hymn-singing wind, sound like good omens. The trembling earth, the blind lambs and wingless birds can’t be considered good portents. It’s such a strange mixture, what might they be telling us? Mary wanted to ask her mother, but she appeared to be deep in thought.

They were both jolted from their musings by Lydia, the midwife. She had come to check Mary’s progress. Mary wanted to ask her about the omens, but Lydia hurried through her tasks and left, only saying the birth was not imminent. Mary looked at her mother, but Anne had already drifted off to sleep. She settled back down to wait. A cool wind fluttered the flap hanging over the entrance to the tent. The wind carried familiar early night sounds of cattle in the nearby stable and the low muttering of a dove perched above the door of the tent.

As Mary became drowsy, a cramp seized her lower abdomen. She opened her eyes, realizing she was going into labor. The birth of her child was drawing closer. Several minutes later, another pain drew her attention back to the baby. Not too uncomfortable yet, she thought. Mary knew from the talk of the other women in the village that the pain would get worse as the birth approached. Should I wake mother? Probably not, I’ll wait until it becomes too uncomfortable to keep quiet.

Mary’s mind returned to the meaning of the omens. Was she going to have a son of great importance, as the blonde visitor had predicted? If so, was he going to be a ruler, maybe take Herod’s place as Procurator of Judea? That could only be done by force, which meant there would be an uprising, war, rapes and bloodshed. She shivered and tried to think of something more positive. Perhaps, he will be a High Priest at the temple, teaching the people and performing sacrifices to Yahweh. That might be the meaning of the good omens, but what about the trembling earth, the blind lambs and the wingless birds? Does that mean he will die, either at birth or, later, as a child, during one of Herod’s raids?

Growing more uneasy about the omens, Mary decided to wake her mother. She might be able to suggest an interpretation of them.

Mother, please wake up?

Yes, my daughter. Are you in pain? Anne asked.

No, Mother, Lydia said I have more time before the pains begin. I need to ask you the meaning of the omens. I’ve heard so many and they seem to conflict. I know the meaning of the shooting stars, the flashing lights and the white ship. I think they’re good omens. But what about the deformed animals? That frightens me, Mother. What could they mean?

I’m not sure, Mary. We don’t know that these things have happened. Those are the talk of men who have not come forward. The stories have been repeated over and over many times. They could be just rumors. Don’t worry about such things. Everything will be all right. Lydia has delivered many babies and no mothers were ever lost. Try to rest while you can. I’ll be here beside you.

Alright, Mother. I hope my baby will be born without deformity.

I do too. I’m looking forward to having a grandchild.

Unsatisfied by her mother’s answer, Mary began to think over her life and things that her mother had told her of the times and events before her birth. Her mother had never mentioned any omens during that time.

Mother, were there any omens before I was born?

I don’t recall hearing of any. Your father spoke of one he and his co-conspirators interpreted as being bad for Herod’s rule, Anne said, But none that could have had any meaning for me.

Perhaps there were none or maybe she was so absorbed with worry about her husband’s involvement in the insurrection she didn’t pay attention to the talk of the women at the well, Mary thought. Then she started to think about the stories she’d heard from her father about the past.

Herod (73-4 BCE) was the pro-Roman king of Galilee, a small Jewish state in the last decades before the Common Era.

(21 BCE)

Chapter I. Herod’s Palace

No, no, a woman screamed....then silence. Heavy footsteps echoed through the hall. Doors opened and quickly slammed—not an uncommon event in Herod’s palace.

She’s got to be removed before he gets back, one voice said.

What are we supposed to do with her? asked another.

Bury her where we put the other one, Herod doesn’t care. Just get rid of her like we did her son, the first voice answered.

As they prepared to haul her body away, the guards paused to look at her. Mariamne was such a beautiful woman. I thought they were in love. They were together so much, observed one of the guards. Why did he want her killed?

Herod’s sister and mother despised her, said another. They told him long, false stories of her infidelity and that she treated them worse than she treated the palace servants. I guess Herod heard those stories after each of his trips abroad. Finally, he couldn’t stand to hear any more and instructed us to dispose of her before he got back, explained the leader of the three.

Hhumm, replied the other two guards.

Hope he gives us a good reward for this. A waste of a good woman, if you ask me, said the third guard, as they carried the body away.

The horrors of Herod’s home were in stark contrast to the splendor of his palace. Flames of candles and wall torches flared against the gloom. A rainstorm pounded hard on the walls as residents and guests began to fill the dining hall of Herod’s palace. Tables were placed across one wall then extended down to the right and left, creating a large open space in the middle of the room for entertainment, later. These were the years of royal splendor. Although Herod was a Jew, he was dressed in a Roman toga. He situated himself at the middle of the longest table. To his right were two of his most trusted guards. At Herod’s left, sat two of his sons, Archelaus and Antipas. Educated in Rome, both men were clad in red robes, obvious gifts from Caesar. Other palace residents, men and women, primarily relatives of Herod, sat on either side. Guests and visitors took their seats last, at the ends of the tables. Among them were three Jewish merchants from Galilee, Joachim, Levi and Timothy, Joachim’s brother-in-law. They settled into chairs at the end of the table, hoping not to attract attention. All three men wore dark brown homespun robes with no adornments.

Servants set huge wooden trays of roast lamb and a whole, roasted pig before Herod. Then they brought trays of various fruits, figs, dates and olives followed by baskets of bread. Next, they poured wine for each diner and placed the pitchers within reach.