A Gate Called Beautiful

By Kara S.McKenzie

CLAUDIA, a young beggar woman calls out to the people walking past.
She sits along the roadside, a young dark-haired woman, in ragged clothing. As she hears the clink of coins drop into her cup, her eyes light, and a smile forms on her face. She notices children crossing the street laughing, and quickly pulls her twisted foot beneath her tunic. For a brief moment, the expression on her face is solemn, while her eyes are drawn to a small boy’s parents who walk away from her without looking.
And then she looks up, and the sun’s rays warm her. She remembers ANNA, the old, crippled woman who raised her on the streets. She thanks God that Anna taught her about the heavenly Father who would never desert her. Maybe YESHUA would heal her, as he healed her friends? MALACHI, deformed from birth was now working for a family as a servant. And RUTH, cured from a disease, was back with her family after she reached out and touched Yeshua. The amazing things Yeshua did spread throughout Capernaum. Claudia hoped Yeshua would heal her too, but she’d had difficulty getting near him, past the crowds. And now he was gone, having left in a boat. She follows the crowds out of Capernaum to find Yeshua. At night, darkness closes in on her, and she meets her greatest foe, loneliness. But, her prayer reveals God’s presence and care, and she knows a day will come when she’ll be free of her troubles. Her trust is in a God bigger than the greatest of her difficulties.
Seth notices the young woman on the streets and wants to give her coins for her cup. He’s drawn to the radiance in her eyes and her bright smile, despite her unfortunate circumstances. He sees a beautiful heart in the young woman beneath the torn and ragged clothes and dark strands of uncombed hair and wants to help her. As he crosses the street, he looks back. His heart sinks, when he realizes she’s gone.
He never fathoms, that this young woman is the one God intends he’ll someday bring home as his wife.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Feb 28, 2015
• ISBN: 9781942663904

Book preview

KJV

Chapter 1

Claudia’s voice rang out from sunken cheeks. Alms, for the poor! Alms, for the poor! she cried. She wished one of the people on the road would notice her and toss a coin her way. She was hungry.

She pushed her dark, unkempt hair behind her small shoulders under her tan head covering. Her face was smudged with dirt. Her eyes were large and dark.

She sat about ten feet from a dirt road, against a large boulder on the way into Capernaum. She was holding a cup in her hand and watched as people passed by. It was hot that day, a good day to beg. People were on their way to the synagogue for afternoon prayer. She’d go there later and enter in the back section of the building.

She listened to the clomping of camel’s heavy feet hitting the soft path leading caravans of traders. There were sounds of sheep bleating loudly as they were led to the synagogue for sacrifice. Wagons kicked up dust, while animals plodded along at the sound of shouts and slashes of whips. Claudia took a swipe at the grit on her face. A cart with a cage full of chickens clucked noisily and bumped along a rock-filled section of the path.

And every now and then, there was the faintest jingle of coins dropping into clay cups around her.

When people passed by, she didn’t expect them to look at her, but wished they would. Sometimes, she ached to witness a smile or hear a soft-spoken word cast her way.

When she received no response, she smiled wider at the people on the trail, despite the hot, muggy day. She touched the twisted foot that made her unclean and smoothed out the folds in her wrinkled tunic. Her brow lifted. Why would they see her, when the two who brought her into this world didn’t?

Her parents had tossed her out at birth onto the streets to be taken up by other cripples. She had one possession at the time…a Roman name, which meant lame.

She shrugged off these thoughts, looking back at the street. It stabbed at her heart to think about a mother who could put her own babe in the hands of strangers.

Others walked by, their eyes turned away from the sides of the roads where the beggars sat. Some acted as if they were unaware of her presence.

Claudia knew it was unrealistic to expect anything less after having been on the streets for so many years. She was close to sixteen by now, or at least it’s what she had been told.

She decided her concentration was better off spent on begging for the day, money in her cup, or a cast-off tunic from a family whose children had outgrown it. Each day she dreamed of a good shelter for the night and safety from other outcasts who were looking for someone they might rob. Nothing more.

Alms for the poor! she cried again. Alms for the poor!

No response.

She smiled again wider.

She felt hot. It was muggy.

The road in town was dusty. It had been weeks since it rained, which was unusual for Capernaum with the lake often producing clouds. Claudia figured it would rain soon, having overheard talk of it. She originally came to Capernaum because she learned of the richness of the land and town and was amazed when she first saw the fertile plain of Genessaret, with its crops producing plentiful walnuts, figs, grapes and olives. Being a trade town, people came from all over to barter for goods to take home and sell to make profits.

Looking further down the path, Claudia spotted a tall, stern-faced Roman soldier walking briskly toward her on his way into the town. His upper body was wrapped in red cloth, and the rest of him was covered in full, silver armor.

She shivered and scrunched up smaller as he strode toward her, backing away from the street. The Romans ruled Jerusalem and the surrounding areas with an iron fist, giving little autonomy to the Jewish people other than recognizing King Herod as a figurehead. Some of their ways were ruthless and cruel.

He scowled at her as he passed by, kicking up dust. Another beggar, he muttered under his breath. He looked as though he were disgusted by what he saw and that she were no better than an animal on the street.

She kept her face turned down until he was further on the path, hoping he wouldn’t turn back around. She always wished she were invisible when she met up with his kind, as she knew the atrocities some of the Romans were capable of committing.

When she was satisfied that he was on his way, she turned her attention across the street. She studied the neat, tidy homes of stone lining the narrow walkways. The house’s walls were thin with tapered doorways and few windows. She wondered what it felt like to sleep on the low, flat roofs on a hot summer night, gazing up at the stars.

Claudia smelled bread baking and watched the women in the courtyards going about their household tasks, weaving baskets, baking, churning the butter and milking the goats, chatting happily with each other. She smiled at the sounds of children’s laughter occasionally ringing out.

She would’ve liked to peek behind the wooden doors and small, shuttered windows in the houses and see what they did inside together, but knew they would disapprove. She winced, feeling that lonesome pain she almost always felt when she considered other family’s lives. She shook her head and turned back to face the dirt path in front of her again.

There really was only one person she considered family, but now, that person was gone.

Tears welled up in her eyes thinking of how much she missed her friend, Anna. How many months had it been since she’d lost her? Ten? A vision of a gray-haired woman with a wrinkled face, and a gentle expression came to her. Oh, how she wished her friend were still here. Claudia spent her young years with Anna and had learned so much from her elderly friend. She missed her so much.

Anna was also crippled, as Claudia was. The old woman was the one who took care of Claudia when she was a baby. She reached out and cared for Claudia, when no one else wanted her, teaching her all the things she needed to know about the street and how to survive in it.

And more importantly, Anna taught her about Adonai. She showed her the power of prayer and how Claudia could see things that were good, even in the bitterest of circumstances if she chose to look for it.

It was a deep loss for Claudia when her friend died, in spite of the fact that the old woman told Claudia not to grieve after she was gone and not to be afraid. She told Claudia that all things would be made right, and that someday Adonai would reunite and heal them. Claudia believed this with all her heart and couldn’t wait for the day Anna proved to be right.

She heard a sound behind her and spun around to see who it was. Malachi! How good to see you! she called out.

Her friend was dirty and ragged like she was, a little older than her. His body was misshapen, making him stocky and small for his age. His scant clothes draped loosely over his body. His words were labored, a disfigured chest from a birth defect making it difficult for him to breathe. He asked, Have you gotten much, Claudia?

Not really, Malachi, but maybe it’ll be better tomorrow. It’ll be all right though, as I believe Adonai, the Lord, will care for us.

Sometimes, in her heart she found it hard to believe and trust Adonai, especially when things got tough, but she made the decision to do it anyway because of what Anna taught her. Since she was a very small child, she prayed, even when she had little hope that it would change anything.

She turned away from Malachi’s misshapen body and frowned when she noticed a piece of cloth holding his makeshift sandals together.

Malachi drew his feet closer to him. Adonai? What would I have to do with him after praying all these years? What does he care? He’s the one who put us in this place. He sat down in the dirt next to her and rested his head of dirt-streaked hair in his hands.

Claudia knew he didn’t believe in Adonai like she did. But, your name means messenger or angel. There must be a reason for that.

Malachi sneered. Hmmph! I haven’t seen the good in it. And your name, meaning cripple? What do you think of that? It’s not even Hebrew. Sorry, but I don’t believe in a God who would treat his people as miserably as we’ve been treated.

Claudia looked down and touched her foot, drawing it under her tunic. There was a glimmer of pain in her eyes. Oh, Malachi. Don’t say that. I don’t mind that I’m crippled. I see so many others with leprosy or other horrible things, and I can’t complain. I like to think there’ll be a new name for me someday, as Abram and Sarai were given.

Malachi sputtered. But, can’t you see? You’re on the street? You’re half-starving most of the time, and no one here cares about you?

She turned away, a downcast expression in her eyes.

Well, I don’t mean, no one, because I do. But, I just can’t see how you keep holding to the idea that Adonai even exists. We live in the real world, here. And it’s painful. I can’t imagine why you can even think the way you do.

Claudia’s eyes glistened with tears. Oh, Malachi. But, a person has to have something good to hold onto…and I have to believe in Adonai and that he can protect me. It gives me hope. She smiled and wiped away the wetness forming on her cheeks.

He didn’t say anything.

She looked across the street and shrugged. She was quiet a moment and then spoke again, a sparkle returning to her eyes. Have you seen Yeshua yet?

Who?

You know, the carpenter’s son, the one who’s been healing people.

He blinked. Oh. Him. No. And personally, I don’t know anyone who’s been healed.

Claudia sighed. Well, I’m hearing a lot of stories, and I certainly think it’s worth a try to try to see him.

Malachi frowned. I wouldn’t count on it. And even if you do get to him, it’s unlikely he’ll even speak to you, especially with that crowd following him around.

Claudia thought of the last time she tried to get through the huge throngs of people. It was true. Only a select few actually got close enough. She suddenly felt less hopeful.

A woman with a clinking ankle bracelet sauntered past barely acknowledging them, gripping her goods tighter in her arms. Claudia’s eyes were drawn to the woven basket the woman carried containing fresh fruit. She detected a faint, sweet odor sending rumbles deep into her stomach.

She caught the eye of a taller man walking with his family. His face was difficult to read, but she lifted her cup, hoping to hear the same gentle ring of bronze the other almsmen heard.

A coin hit the dust stirring up a cloud, and she picked it up and gave it to Malachi. Another landed next to her foot, and she picked this one up dropping it into her cup. Her stomach churned at the thought of a piece of fruit and a slice of bread.

Oh! Thanks, sir! she called out a Hebrew word of thanks. She grinned. There! He’s a good man! See, things are not all bad.

The man who threw the coin didn’t look at Claudia. He moved closer to his wife and two children, taking synchronized steps beside them. Claudia could tell by the fine quality of his clothing and the way he held himself upright when he walked, that he was wealthy. His children smiled and chatted as they trailed along behind their parents, unaware of her watching them. She wondered if they were the family who left her on the street to fend for herself.

Malachi sneered. Huh! Do you think he gave us the money because he cared? Really? I don’t think so, Claudia. He’s one who gives us so little when he has so much. Notice his jewels. He’s just like all the rest of them, only handing out money to make themselves look good.

She peered into her cup and then at the man again. But, Malachi, what if he did do it with a willing heart. Why always be so cynical?

A bitter frown creased the lines in his skin, too deep for his young face. He shook his head. I can’t help it. Don’t you see the selfishness of the rich and the way they vie for approval from the Pharisees and synagogue leaders with their miserable handouts?

But, there has to be some of them who really do care.

He groaned. You just don’t get it, Claudia. You never do.

She looked in her cup, and her mood turned solemn. It doesn’t matter. We have food to eat now.

Malachi looked somewhat chagrinned. He pulled a coin out of his cup and smiled. All right. We do have some money, for today, anyway. I’ll give you that much.

Then he shook his head. If anything, I can understand why Adonai doesn’t have much to do with me. But I still don’t know why a god would leave someone like you on the streets. That’s what’s so difficult for me to understand.

Claudia looked up into the sky. Her eyes softened. But, I have food and clothes most days. And I’ve found good places to sleep away from danger. It’s not so bad.

Well, it’s not enough to convince me. I’ll believe it when I see some changes. But, not before.

Claudia reached out and touched his hand, suddenly sorry Malachi had to endure so much more than her. She knew how very difficult it must be for him to have to live as he did. Maybe someday it will be different. But, in the meantime, I am going to try and see that man Yeshua. If I can get close enough, that is.

**********

Hearing footsteps, they swung around. They both drew back, as a tall woman approached from behind.

Malachi shouted, Unclean! Unclean! He scanned the street and dropped down into a cowering position.

Claudia cringed. She should’ve been watching more closely and gotten out of the woman’s way.

The woman stepped back, putting up a pale, thin hand, motioning for them to stay where they were. No, it’s all right, she said. I already knew you were unclean. You don’t need to worry, because I am, too.

Malachi frowned.

The woman backed up a step and looked down. When she lifted her head back up, her expression was solemn.

Malachi backed away. Your sick? He held up his hand. Wait. Don’t come near us. Whatever you have, I’m not wanting it.

Claudia’s eyes widened. Malachi, please. She turned to the woman and spoke softly. My goodness. I wouldn’t have guessed you’re unclean. Your clothing is expensive, and you’re not deformed? She noticed the woman’s sad gray eyes, which were cast down.

The woman played with the yellow sash about her waist. Yes, well my husband, he loved me very much. He cared for me. But, after twelve years with sickness, our money was spent on doctors, and I was cast out. It won’t be long before I’m in rags, too.

But, what do you have? Twelve years is a long time to be sick.

Malachi whispered in her ear. Better not be leprosy.

Claudia rolled her eyes. Leprosy? No. The woman said twelve years. If she had leprosy, she would have had more visible evidence of the disease by now.

The woman looked tired. Her face was pale. She was not beautiful with her long face and slightly elongated nose, but something in her expression made her attractive in a different sort of way.

It’s not leprosy, the woman said. She sat down on the ground on her knees, a few feet away from them and tucked her feet neatly behind her. But, the disease does make me weak. I need to rest often. She stopped to take a breath. My husband put me out of the home, because the doctors couldn’t heal me.

Malachi looked afraid. Well, I don’t want anything you have.

The woman’s shoulders drooped again. She wore the same somber expression as when they first met.

Claudia’s felt pity for her and speculated how many people walked away, leaving the woman to deal with her sickness on her own. She wondered why Malachi would want to exclude anyone, knowing how he felt when people did the same thing to him. But, Malachi, we mustn’t be like them. She pointed at the people on the street.

Malachi averted his eyes. But, this is different, he replied. Twelve years? Do you want that kind of disease?

Claudia shook her head. But, Malachi. Her husband didn’t catch it. I can see no reason why we would.

Claudia caught a glimpse of the taut lines in her friend’s face and his pale as death eyes and guessed his thoughts. How many times had she been struck with the same fear? There was a lot to be afraid of on the streets, and both of them knew it full well. Neither could they ignore it. Yet, neither could she turn this woman away. The unclean should stick together. Otherwise, there would be no one for them.

Malachi shifted uncomfortably. Stay if you wish. But, I don’t want anything else. He heaved himself from his seat and began to walk off. He turned back one more time and shook his head. I have enough to deal with.

Claudia wondered how she would feel, if she suffered as much as he did. She gave a quick nod. All right, Malachi. I’ll see you. Peace! And may Adonai go with you!

Malachi winced. Adonai? I wish you wouldn’t always bring him into this. He shook his head, a determined look in his eye. The coins rattled in his cup as he took the path away from them with the leather pouch he carried, swinging from side to side. He didn’t look back, disappearing over a hill of green.

Claudia put her hand to her heart and breathed deeply. Malachi created such a wall around himself, and she saw what it cost his heart.

She looked back at the woman and smiled. It’s all right. I understand. People have left me, too, but I’ll stay with you.

The woman looked touched. But, you shouldn’t. You know they won’t even let you into the synagogue? People don’t want me anywhere near them, because they believe it’s a disease they can catch. And the same will happen to you.

Claudia shook her head. Oh no, I’d feel awful to leave you alone.

The woman’s voice lowered. She moved further away. But, I’m sure you’d miss synagogue.

Claudia looked up the hill to the synagogue in the distance. The arched doorway was veiled from her view by the dark walls rising around the city, and she thought of when the people excluded her from entering Adonai’s home.

The woman’s downcast face saddened her. She knew what loneliness felt like. After a brief moment, she spoke. I can pray to Adonai either way, inside or outside of the synagogue. There’s little difference. And we must sit so far away from the others, I usually can’t hear them speak, even when I’m there. Then she chuckled. And I’m certain, they’ll not miss me.

She sighed knowing full well the consequences for the actions she was taking, yet wouldn’t let that impede her decision.

The woman spoke quietly. How is it you’re not running from me?

Claudia took a deep breath. She did understand what the consequences might be, because of the actions she was taking. Yet, she wasn’t going to let fear decide for her what she would do.

Claudia’s gaze rested on the clouds over the Sea of Galilee, and a sweet smile lit her face. Adonai will keep me from your illness if it’s his wish, and I’d rather trust him than make my decisions based on how afraid I am.

You believe so much in him?

Claudia sighed. "Oh, I do…most of