Scene Six
But Peter sent them all out and knelt down and prayed, and turning to the body, he said, “Tabitha, arise.” And she opened her eyes, and when she saw Peter, she sat up. Acts 9:40
Abigail scrunched her brow in an attempt to concentrate on the task before her.
“Is your father lighting the candles now?”
Her mother crossed the room and picked the candles up from her father’s place at the table. She brushed past her daughter and placed the candlesticks in front of her seat.
“I am sorry, Mother.” Abigail stood holding a bowl in one hand and the wine goblet in the other. “I am just a little distracted.”
“Distracted?” Her mother grabbed the items from her daughter’s hands and placed them on the table. “I do not need any more distractions. Your father will be home soon and he expects all to be ready.” She pushed her daughter toward the stairs.
Abigail resisted. “I can do this, Mother.”
“Not today.” She continued to push. “Today you help your little sisters dress.”
“They can dress themselves.” Abigail turned around. “You need my help here.”
Her mother pointed to the table. “This help I do not need.”
Abigail took a good look at the table. Not one dish or utensil was where it was supposed to be. She hung her head in shame. Setting the Sabbath table had been her task since she was tall enough to reach it. How could she explain to her mother that her distraction was Judah’s fault, Judah and all this raising someone from the dead business? Mismanaged preparation for this holy day over such a distraction simply would not be tolerated.
Father had strictly forbidden any talk in their home about this new sect. She was quickly reprimanded the last time she tried to ask him a question about this polarizing religious group. And just as quickly, he reminded her that she better get all such thoughts out of her head or even Elias would not want to marry her. She let out a huge sigh. Of all the available Jewish men in Joppa, her father had to pick the one who made her nauseous.
“More distractions?” Her mother snapped her pudgy fingers in her face.
Abigail hesitated to answer. “I…I…well, it is just…”
“Just what?” Now her mother stood with hands on hips. “I do not have all day.”
“It is nothing, Mother.” The girl turned and started up the stairs. Another big sigh escaped from deep within her soul.
“Just one minute.”
To her surprise, Abigail’s mother followed her up the stairs and pulled her to a stop. The eyes that were just seconds ago harsh and demanding began to soften.
“There is something bothering you. Tell me.”
The girl just shook her head. She simply could not risk the ire of her father and place her mother in the middle of yet another father-daughter squabble. She tried to smile and said the first thing that came to her mind. “Just nerves, Mother.”
“I knew it!” Her mother waved her hands in the air. “You are excited that Elias comes to our Sabbath. No?”
Abigail started to shake her head and then thought better of it. This was the perfect explanation she needed, but she could not outright lie. Her mind swirled for the best reply, but no words in the affirmative would be truthful. So she gave her mother a sheepish smile. Her mother hugged her and then scooted back down the stairs singing her words.
“I knew you would come around. Elias is a good man: a great match.” She looked back to her daughter and waved her arms up and down. “Go, go! Get yourself ready. You must look especially beautiful tonight!”
“The girls?” Abigail kept the smile pasted on her face.
“Eh!” Her mother twirled down the last steps. “They dress themselves.” She laughed, almost hysterically. “I never thought this day would come.”
Abigail plopped down on one of the steps and tried to sort out what just happened. She would not have to explain about her real reason for being distracted, but at what cost? Now she would have to pretend that she was pleased with her betrothal and she was not at all sure just how long she could keep that up. Hiding her true feelings was not one of her strong suits.
A younger voice called from above, “Abigail, may I borrow…?”
She waved a hand above her head. “Yes, yes.”
The voice giggled with glee. She had answered absently without even knowing what was to be borrowed. It did not matter. All that mattered now was how to get through this night without disclosing her true feelings, but at the same time not appearing too eager. She put her head between her knees and let out another deep sigh.
She whispered, “This is all Judah’s fault. And Chloe’s! And Tabitha’s!”
“Tsk, tsk.” Abigail touched two fingers to her mouth. “You are a wicked girl to speak ill of the dead.”
A quick thought raced through her head. No! It is not possible. But…maybe… She raised her head and listened carefully for any approaching movement and then said so softly that she almost could not hear herself say it.
“Maybe she is no longer dead.”
As quickly as she said it, she placed both hands over her mouth for she sensed she had somehow spoken blasphemy. Was Jehovah God, Who sees and hears all things, angry with her and about to strike her dead right where she sat? She remained very still and stared straight ahead for a few moments. Nothing different appeared to be happening. Her mother still fussed over the meal. Her siblings still scurried around upstairs. And her heart was still beating.
What if it can happen? What if this Apostle can raise Tabitha from the dead? Has it happened already? She had no idea how long such a thing takes. And if it has happened, what should she do?
“You are still daydreaming?” Her mother scolded from the bottom of the stairs. “I hear your father and Elias in the garden.” She waved her apron up and down. “Shoo!”
Abigail scrambled to her feet. “Yes, Mother.”
Three brothers and two sisters scrambled down the stairs as she hurried up them.
“Miriam, that is my shawl.” Abigail reached for the beautiful violet garment.
Her sister avoided her reach and shouted back. “You told me I could borrow it.” The girl nodded amongst numerous giggles as she descended the remaining stairs.
Abigail paused at the top of the stairs. Elias’ animated laughter filled their home as her siblings danced around him. She wanted her own heart to dance when this man entered a room. Instead, it usually crept into a deserted corner of her soul. Her mother told her not to worry about such silly girlish things. But Abigail not only worried about it, she longed for it. Was it wrong to want to be loved…truly loved. Another sigh escaped from deep within her soul.
One Another Living 