M
y Dear Cousin,
Please be kind to accept my daughter into your home.
She is with child . . .
The letter explained all that Mary’s mother knew, all that her daughter had revealed. The dispatch-bearer left ahead of Mary and would reach the house of Zechariah well before the girl’s entourage. Elizabeth would be waiting, anticipating her arrival.
The trip took almost a week and the path, as always, arduous and chafing. Down into the Esdraelon Plain, across the Jordan fords to avoid Samaria, down the eastern bank of the river, crossing again at Jericho, the climb back up to and through Jerusalem and out into the Judean hill-country until the house of Zechariah came into view. The strain of the trip evaporated as hopeful expectations rose in Mary. Barely within hearing, she began shouting “Elizabeth! Elizabeth!”
At first, the sound was as feint as that of a distant bird. Then at last, she clearly discerned her name, “Elizabeth!” in a girl-child’s voice. The swelling in her stomach visibly moved. Her body responded in an enchanting sensate awareness of something rich and full and beautiful – holiness! Ecstasy seized her. When at last her aged eyes saw her young cousin she shouted. “Oh, Mary! How blessed you are among all women! And blessed is the child you are to bear! The two women met and embraced. Tears of consummate joy for Elizabeth. Tears of relief and comfort for Mary. A child and an old woman. A woman long past childbearing yet with child, and a woman who has not known a man yet also with child. Wondrous enceinte!
