Category Archives: Rachel

La táctica de Raquel

ficción bíblica: Génesis Vavetze

Traducido del inglés y editado por Caro Cynovich carocynovich@gmail.com

La táctica de Raquel

jacob-rachel-and-leah-by-raphael-largeRaquel puso su cuchillo de cortar en su cinturón. Pasó sus dedos a través de la espesa lana de las ovejas mientras escuchaba a Jacobo, que estaba parado en medio de su rebaño. Le encantaba el rico aroma de los animales dóciles.

—Es un acuerdo, entonces—Jacobo dijo a Raquel y a su hermana Lea.

Lea; co-esposa, socia, aliada y hermana, todo en una. Ahora que Raquel había dado a luz a José, las viejas rivalidades y celos menguaron.

—Nos vamos por la mañana —continuó Jacobo—. Por favor, empaquen sus pertenencias y preparen a los niños. No sé si volvemos alguna vez a la casa de tu padre.

Los tres echaron una ojeada a través de las llanuras arameas y  miraron el recinto de Labán en la distancia. Raquel recordó que antes de la llegada de Jacobo había sido una simple casa de ladrillos de barro. Ahora, veinte años después, se había convertido en una mansión de piedra, con una serie de casas de adobe más pequeñas y grandes establos. Es todo obra de Jacobo, pensó Raquel. Y mi padre lo robaría todo de nuevo.

Raquel y Lea caminaron de regreso al complejo en silencio, con el sol poniéndose a la distancia. Raquel sabía que el disgusto de Lea por su padre reflejaba el suyo propio. Eran poco más que esclavas para él. Y también lo era Jacobo. Fuerte y honesto, el trabajo duro de Jacobo había construido la riqueza del padre de Raquel y Lea, pero aún así él era tratado apenas mejor que una bestia de carga. Eran las reglas de su pueblo: mientras Labán fuera el amo, todos ellos le pertenecían. Huir no los haría libres. Laban los seguiría. Él traería sus ídolos en la mano y exigiría que todos regresen a él por la ley.

Los ídolos, esos aborrecidos ídolos. Raquel se preguntó si Labán controlaba los ídolos o si tal vez fuera al revés. Ella tenía que poner sus manos en esos ídolos. Tenía que quitar los ídolos del control de Labán y con ello romper la esclavitud eterna. Su hijo José debería crecer libre.

El sol se hundió en el horizonte y la luna llena tomó su lugar en el cielo. Cuando Raquel y Lea alcanzaron los recintos, se saludaron con una inclinación de cabeza y se fueron cada una a sus aposentos privados. Raquel pasó por delante de su propia puerta y continuó hasta el Templo privado de Labán. Labán está a varios días de distancia, pensó. No se habría llevado a sus ídolos a la esquila de su rebaño lejano. Tienen que estar aquí en su Templo.

Raquel se dirigió a la parte posterior del recinto donde el Templo estaba en pie. Bendijo la luna llena por iluminar su camino en la noche oscura. Un gato negro salvaje chilló repentinamente. Raquel dio un salto atrás con miedo.

—Maldito gato —murmuró, temblando—. Me has dado un susto de muerte.

Raquel se acercó al Templo. Era una estructura de tierra circular, cubierto con una cúpula sencilla. El diámetro del Templo era de la longitud de dos hombres, al igual que la altura. Raquel se recordó de Labán construyendo cuidadosamente la estructura del mismo, mientras lanzaba hechizos y protecciones para sus ídolos. La puerta del Templo estaba en el lado este, hacia el sol naciente, con ventanas abiertas en los otros tres puntos cardinales.

Raquel se acercó cautelosamente a una de las ventanas y miró en su interior. Una vela solitaria ardía siempre en un brasero que colgaba del techo. Sobre un pedestal de piedra en el centro del Templo, Raquel pudo ver los ídolos. Ambos estaban en el pedestal. Estaban a menos de la distancia de un brazo de altura. Había una estatuilla dorada de un hombre, tallada con exquisito detalle, junto a una estatuilla similar pero de plata. Si uno miraba el tiempo suficiente, se podría pensar que estaban vivos. Eso no es lo que le preocupaba a Raquel. Lo que la turbaba era el dominio que estos ídolos representaban.

El dueño de los ídolos era el dueño de su fortuna. Le daba el derecho a la tierra, a los esclavos y rebaños. Los ídolos se pasaban de padre a hijo. Un hombre libre arameo necesitaba recibir su propio ídolo de su amo. Labán no liberaría a Jacobo, ni tampoco el justo Jacobo aceptaría un ídolo a cambio de su libertad. Por ley aramea, Jacobo y sus descendientes por siempre serian esclavos. A Jacobo no le importaba esta ley, y se iría a pesar de ella. Pero Raquel no aceptaría esto. No quería que esta condena pesara sobre su José.

En el suelo del Templo una forma negra y sinuosa se deslizó alrededor del pedestal. Tenía el grosor de un tronco de árbol, y en algunos momentos Raquel fue capaz de ver a través de su cuerpo la tierra que había debajo. Un demonio, pensó con alarma. Esa es la forma en que los ídolos están protegidos. ¿Cómo puedo pasar a través de él?

Raquel encontró la cabeza de la forma deslizante. Dos brillantes ojos rojos iluminaban su rostro. No tenía nariz ni orejas. Sólo esos ojos profundamente hundidos y una boca ancha que ocupaba la mitad de su cabeza. Le recordaba a una anguila gigante, excepto que ella podía ver los brazos y las piernas largas descansar a los lados del cuerpo del demonio. La forma se movía dentro y fuera del estado de solidez, demostrando así su origen demoníaco.

¿Cómo puedo engañar al demonio? Raquel se preguntó. ¿Atraparlo? ¿Distraerlo? ¿Qué sabía ella acerca de los demonios? Su padre nunca le había enseñado ningún sortilegio. Pero a menudo le gusta alardear de cómo capturaba a los demonios y los controlaba. Sangre. Sí. Les gustaba la sangre. Ellos eran adictos a la sangre. Seguirían el olor de la sangre fresca y festejarían por él. En agradecimiento obedecerían sus deseos.

Raquel se retiró en silencio del Templo y examinó el suelo con cuidado. Entonces lo vio. El gato estaba sentado frente a uno de los edificios, lamiendo sus patas. Con una velocidad nacida de la desesperación Raquel se abalanzó sobre el gato, con los brazos extendidos. El gato se escapó de su mano derecha, pero ella cogió el gato por el cuello con su izquierda. El gato chilló y arañó el brazo de Raquel. Ella golpeó la cabeza del gato en el suelo, sacó su cuchillo de corte y rebanó el cuello del gato. La sangre fluyó rápidamente en el suelo.

Raquel corrió hacia el Templo y se paró detrás de una estructura. Un momento después, la puerta del templo se abrió y el demonio negro se deslizó fuera. Raquel corrió hacia el Templo. Se detuvo en la entrada, en busca de nuevas trampas o defensas. Se dio cuenta de una gruesa capa de polvo alrededor del pedestal central. Dio sutilmente un paso hacia adelante y sintió una sensación de ardor a través de sus sandalias de cuero. Sacó el pie hacia atrás y miró fijamente al suelo. Vio un contorno de huellas en el polvo. Puso sus pies sobre la huellas y de esa forma no sintió dolor. Pisó las huellas sucesivas y llegó al pedestal ilesa.

El ídolo de oro la miraba fijamente. Era hermoso. Rara vez había visto un objeto hecho por el hombre que fuera una obra tan fina. Raquel cogió el ídolo, sólo para llorar de dolor mientras el ídolo quemaba los dedos de su mano derecha. Se arrancó la tela de la parte inferior de la falda, envolvió el tejido de lana alrededor de los dos ídolos y los sacó del pedestal. Raquel se apartó, cuidadosamente pisando las huellas para volver para atrás. Llegó a la puerta y dio un suspiro de alivio.

Cuando se volvió y se alejó, una mano oscura atrapó su tobillo y tiró de ella hacia la puerta del Templo. Raquel se aferró a la estructura de la puerta con los ídolos todavía envueltos y apretados en su mano izquierda.

—Me has engañado, hija de Labán —el demonio siseó desde el suelo.

—Yo te di de comer sangre, demonio. Libérame. Esa es mi petición.

—¿Crees que somos tontos, humana? Estamos vagamente obligados. La sangre me atrajo, pero no fue suficiente para subyugarme. Mi tarea era proteger a los ídolos y he fallado. Aunque seas una ladrona, tú eres ahora el amo de los ídolos. Pero no te irás ilesa.

—Entonces obedéceme, demonio. Yo soy el amo ahora. Libérame y vuelve a tu vigilia circular.

—Te voy a liberar, pero me has avergonzado. Por eso deberás pagar. Ningún ser humano puede avergonzar a un demonio y tener una larga vida para contarlo. Pongo una maldición de muerte sobre ti.

—Os di a beber sangre, soy el amo de los ídolos ahora, yo soy la hija de su antiguo amo. ¿Cómo te atreves a maldecirme? Cesa este absurdo en este momento y déjame ir.

—Voy a dejar que te vayas, joven Raquel. Incluso te concederé un último deseo. Nombra tu deseo y me aseguraré de que se cumpla antes de que mueras.

—No acepto tu maldición, demonio. Aunque si pudiera tener un último deseo antes de morir, sería el de tener otro hijo.

—Así será. Ahora quédate quieta mientras canto tu destino.

El demonio, todavía con el tobillo de Raquel en sus manos, acurrucó su largo cuerpo como una bola y miró a Raquel con los ojos de color rojo brillante. Cantó en un profundo estruendo.

“O, engañador del engañador,

Has superado al hijo de Betuel.

Hermosa, la más joven, Raquel,

La reina de lo que será Yisrael.

Madre de los guerreros y reyes,

Nombre por siempre venerado.

Riqueza y honor para tu progenie,

Lucha y batalla con los parientes de su hermana.

Uno más veréis, niña de la tristeza,

Hijo de tu mano derecha,  hijo de la fuerza.

José deberá gobernar un imperio,

Y acelerar el exilio.

Tú deberás montar guardia sobre sus hijos

En su largo regreso a casa.

No ver en este mundo,

Una fuerza entre los justos.”

El demonio soltó el tobillo de Raquel.

Raquel volvió a su habitación, temblando. Lo hice, pensó. Tengo los ídolos. José será libre. Los hijos de Jacobo e incluso los de Lea serán libres. Tenemos que salir con la primera luz, antes de Labán se entere.

Pero ¿qué pasa con la maldición de la muerte?, se preguntó.

Raquel sonrió. Si mi último deseo se hace realidad, me daré por satisfecha.

Rachel’s Gambit

Biblical Fiction (inspiration from Genesis Chapter 31)

Rachel’s Gambit

By Ben-Tzion Spitz

painting by Raphael

Rachel put her shearing knife in her belt. She ran her fingers through the thick wool of the sheep as she stood listening to Jacob amongst his flock. She loved the rich scent of the docile animals.

“It’s agreed then,” Jacob told Rachel and her sister Leah. Leah, co-wife, partner, ally and sister all rolled into one. Now that Rachel had given birth to Joseph, the old rivalries and jealousies ebbed.

“We’re leaving in the morning,” Jacob continued. “Please pack your belongings and prepare the children. I don’t know that we shall ever return to your father’s house again.”

The three of them glanced across the Aramean plains and looked at Lavan’s compound in the distance. Rachel remembered before Jacob’s arrival it had been a simple mud-brick house. Now, twenty years later, it had grown into a stone mansion, with a series of smaller mud-brick houses and large stables. It’s all Jacob’s work, Rachel thought. And father would steal it all over again.

Rachel and Leah walked back to the compound silently with the setting sun. Rachel knew that Leah’s dislike for their father mirrored her own. They were little more than slaves to him. And so was Jacob. Strong, honest, hard-working Jacob had built their father’s wealth, but was still treated little better than a beast of burden. It was within the rules of their people. As long as Lavan was the master, he owned them. Running away would not make them free. She knew Lavan would chase them. He would bring his Idols in hand and demand they all return to him as per the Law.

The Idols, those hated Idols. She wondered if Lavan controlled the Idols or if perhaps it was the other way around. She needed to get her hands on those Idols. She needed to remove the Idols from Lavan’s control and thereby sever the eternal bondage. Joseph must grow up free.

The sun sank below the horizon, with a full moon taking its place in the sky. As Rachel and Leah reached the compound they nodded to each other and separated to their private quarters. Rachel walked past her own door and continued to Lavan’s private Temple. Lavan is several days away, she thought. He would not have taken his Idols to the shearing of his distant flock. They must be here in his Temple.

Rachel walked to the back of the compound where the Temple stood. She blessed the full moon for lighting her path in the dark night. A wild black cat screeched suddenly. Rachel jumped back in fright.

“Damned cat,” she murmured, shaking. “You scared me to death.”

Rachel approached the Temple. It was a circular earthen structure, capped with a simple dome. The Temple’s diameter was the length of two men as was its height. Rachel remembered Lavan lovingly building the structure himself, casting spells and protections for his Idols. The Temple’s door was on the eastern side, to face the rising sun, with open windows at the three other points of the compass.

Rachel walked gingerly to one of the windows and peered inside. One lone long candle burned brightly in a brazier hanging from the ceiling. On a stone pedestal in the center of the Temple Rachel could see the Idols. Both of them were on the pedestal. They were less than an arm’s length in height. There was a golden statuette of a man, carved in exquisite detail, next to a matching silver one. If one looked at them long enough, one might think they were alive. That is not what troubled Rachel. It was the mastery they represented.

The holder of the Idols was the holder of their fortunes. It gave the right to land, to slaves and to flocks. The Idols were passed down from father to son. A freed Aramean man needed to receive his own Idol from his master. Lavan would never release Jacob, nor would her righteous Jacob agree to accept an Idol for his release. By Aramean law, Jacob and his descendents would forever be slaves. Jacob did not care and would simply leave. But Rachel would not accept this. She did not want this doom hanging over her Joseph.

At the floor of the Temple a black sinuous form slithered around the pedestal. It had the thickness of a tree truck, and at some points Rachel was able to see through its body to the dirt floor underneath. A demon, she thought in alarm. That is how he is protecting it. How can I get through it?

Rachel found the head of the slithering form. Two bright red eyes shone from its face. It had neither nose nor ears. Just deep set eyes and a wide mouth that took up half its head. It reminded her of a giant eel, except that she could see long arms and legs at rest on the side of its body. The form shifted in and out of solidity proving its demonic source.

How can I trick the demon? Rachel wondered. Catch it? Distract it? What did she know about demons? Her father had never taught her the magics, but he often liked to brag about how he captured them or controlled them. Blood. Yes. They liked blood. They were addicted to blood. They would follow the scent of fresh blood and feast on it. In gratitude they would obey your wishes.

Rachel retreated quietly from the Temple and scanned the ground carefully. Then she spotted it. The cat sat against one of the buildings licking its paws. With a speed born of desperation Rachel pounced on the cat, with both arms outstretched. The cat eluded her right hand, but she caught the cat by the neck with her left. The cat screeched and scratched at Rachel’s arm. Rachel smashed the cat’s head into the ground, drew out her shearing knife and sliced the cat’s neck. The blood flowed rapidly on the ground.

Rachel ran back to the Temple and stood behind the structure. A moment later the door to the Temple opened and the black demon slithered out. Rachel ran into the Temple. She stopped at the entrance, looking for further traps or defenses. She noticed a heavy layer of dust around the central pedestal. She took one light step forward and felt a burning sensation through her leather sandals. She pulled her foot back and looked closely at the floor. She saw the outline of footprints in the dust. She placed her foot on the footprint and felt no pain. She stepped on successive footprints and made it to the pedestal unharmed.

The golden Idol stared at her. It was beautiful. She had rarely seen a man-made object of such fine workmanship. Rachel grabbed the idol, only to cry in pain as the Idol seared the fingers of her right hand. She ripped the bottom of her skirt and wrapped the woolen fabric around the both idols. She grabbed the wrapped idols with her left hand and backed away from the pedestal, careful to tread on the footprints again. She reached the doorway and breathed a sigh of relief.

As she turned and walked away a dark hand clutched her ankle and pulled her back to the Temple doorway. Rachel held on to the frame of the door, the Idols still wrapped and clutched in her left hand.

“You have deceived me, daughter of Lavan,” the Demon hissed from the ground.

“I fed you blood, Demon. Release me. That is my request.”

“You think us dumb, human? We are merely constrained. The blood drew me, but it is not enough to subjugate me. My task was to protect the Idols and I have failed. Though a thief, you are now the master of the Idols. But you will not leave unscathed.”

“Then obey me, Demon. I am the master now. Release me and return to your circular vigil.”

“I shall release you, but you have shamed me. For that you shall pay. No human may shame a demon and live long to tell about it. I place a death curse upon you.”

“I fed you blood, I am the master of the Idols now, I am the daughter of your former master. How dare you curse me? Stop this nonsense right now and let me go.”

“I shall let you go young Rachel. I shall even grant you a dying wish. Name your wish and I shall make sure it is granted before you die.”

“I do not accept your curse, demon. Though if I could make one last wish before I die, it would be for another son.”

“So it shall be. Now stand as I sing your doom.”

The demon, still holding Rachel’s ankle, curled his long body into a ball and looked at Rachel with his bright red eyes. He sang in a deep rumble.

“O, deceiver of the deceiver,

You have bested the son of Betuel.

Beautiful, youngest, Rachel,

The queen of he who shall be Yisrael.

Mother of warriors and kings,

Name forever revered.

Wealth and honor for your progeny,

Strife and battle with your sister’s kin.

One more shall you see, child of sorrow,

Son of your right hand, son of strength.

Joseph shall rule an empire,

And hasten the exile.

You shall stand guard over your sons

On their long return home.

Not to see them in this world,

A power amongst the righteous.”

The demon released Rachel’s ankle.

Rachel walked back to her quarters, trembling. I did it, she thought. I have the Idols. Joseph shall be free. Jacob and even Leah’s children will be free. We must leave at first light before Lavan finds out.

But what about the death curse, she wondered.

Rachel smiled. If the dying wish comes true, I will be satisfied.

* * * * * *

Biblical Sources:

Genesis Chapter 31

4 And Jacob sent and called Rachel and Leah to the field unto his flock, 5 and said unto them: ‘I see your father’s countenance, that it is not toward me as beforetime; but the God of my father hath been with me. 6 And ye know that with all my power I have served your father. 7 And your father hath mocked me, and changed my wages ten times; but God suffered him not to hurt me.

9 Thus God hath taken away the cattle of your father, and given them to me.

11 And the angel of God said unto me in the dream: Jacob; and I said: Here am I. 12 And he said: Lift up now thine eyes, and see, all the he-goats which leap upon the flock are streaked, speckled, and grizzled; for I have seen all that Laban doeth unto thee. 13 I am the God of Beth-el, where thou didst anoint a pillar, where thou didst vow a vow unto Me. Now arise, get thee out from this land, and return unto the land of thy nativity.’ 14 And Rachel and Leah answered and said unto him: ‘Is there yet any portion or inheritance for us in our father’s house? 15 Are we not accounted by him strangers? for he hath sold us, and hath also quite devoured our price. 16 For all the riches which God hath taken away from our father, that is ours and our children’s. Now then, whatsoever God hath said unto thee, do.’ 17 Then Jacob rose up, and set his sons and his wives upon the camels; 18 and he carried away all his cattle, and all his substance which he had gathered, the cattle of his getting, which he had gathered in Paddan-aram, to go to Isaac his father unto the land of Canaan. 19 Now Laban was gone to shear his sheep. And Rachel stole the teraphim that were her father’s.

Notes:

Role of idols based on lecture at Machon Herzog that explained importance and prominence of master idols in Aramean culture and law, and therefore motivation of Rachel to steal them and that of Lavan to chase Jacob for them.

Demonology based on Sforno and various Talmudic accounts.

Lavan’s magical powers based on his being identified with Bilaam the sorcerer.

Stealing of idols inspired by Indiana Jones.

Death Pangs

Genesis: Vayishlach

Death Pangs

“Push!” Yimeh, the midwife urged, “I can see the baby’s head.”

“There is no more strength in me;” Rachel breathed heavily, “this child has drained my life.”

Rachel was in birthing position on the bed in her tent. Bilhah and Zilpah held Rachel’s arms on either side, while Yimeh was squatting at the foot of the bed, ready to catch the newborn should it succeed in exiting Rachel’s swollen womb. Leah was running back and forth, preparing hot water, getting fresh cloths and doing anything to keep busy. Leah could not bring herself to be in direct contact with her dying sister.

Yes. Rachel was undoubtedly dying. Leah had seen the signs at the birthing-deaths of other women. Rachel’s loss of blood during labor was severe. It was a miracle she had not died already, and that the baby was not stillborn. There was only hope for the baby now, though that too was diminishing quickly.

“Save your breath,” Yimeh said more urgently to Rachel, “the only thing you need do in this world now is push.

“Call Jacob,” Rachel pleaded weakly, “I must see him one last time before I die.”

“I said stop talking!” Yimeh clamped the palm of her hand over Rachel’s mouth, “Push! Do not speak! Push! Push! Push!”

Rachel was shocked by Yimeh’s vehemence and awoke from her stupor. With renewed energy and concentration she started to push.

“That is it.” Yimeh encouraged, “Push in time with the urge.”

Leah in the meantime exited the tent to look for Jacob and at least fulfill her sister’s dying wish.

“You are doing it,” Yimeh reported, “the head is starting to descend.”

“Aaargh!” Rachel screamed, “it is killing me!”

“Do not talk!” Yimeh clamped Rachel’s mouth again, “Do not even scream. Use the pain to push. It is all about pushing now. There is nothing else in the world. Not pain, not limbs, not a baby, not even yourself. You must become a pushing machine, a pushing entity, for the next few moments. Push!”

Yimeh kept her hand on Rachel’s mouth, stifling the next scream.

“I can see the head!” Yimeh exclaimed, “That is very good. Now is the critical part. Listen, Rachel. With the next urge, you must push with all your might. As if the entire world depended on it. I am taking my hand off now. Do not speak. Take a deep breath. Do not do anything else but push at the next urge with your entire being.”

Rachel nodded her understanding. She took a deep breath. Her eyes focused on nothing. Then gritting her teeth, clenching the arms of Bilhah on her right and Zilpah on her left, she pushed.

“Yes! Now! Push!!” Yimeh yelled.

“Nnnggh!” Rachel grunted through her shut mouth.

“The head is out!” Yimeh proclaimed, as she tried to ease the baby out. “The hardest part is over Rachel. Just a few more pushes and you will be done.”

“More?” Rachel asked incredulously, dazed from her last effort.

“Yes.” Yimeh answered, focused on the baby, “Just two or three more pushes to get the rest of the body through.”

“Hah!” Rachel laughed weakly, “I am surprised the last push did not kill me. You will have to do the rest of the pushing, Yimeh.”

“You are not done yet.” Yimeh retorted.

“This body is –“ but Rachel inexorably started to push.

“Very good, Rachel,” Yimeh calmly said as she supported the baby’s head. “Save your breath and keep pushing. The first shoulder is out.”

Jacob suddenly entered the tent with Leah right behind him.

He was shocked by the large pools of blood on the bed and the floor.

He stood silently, looking at the pained and dying Rachel, whom he now understood he would lose momentarily. He then looked at the head of the baby struggling to escape the dying womb. If Rachel did not succeed, it might very well be its tomb.

“Jacob!” Rachel shouted out as soon as she noticed him.

“Quiet!” Yimeh commanded. “Do I need to clamp your mouth again? The very life of this child depends on you not speaking. You must focus on the last pushes. My lord,” Yimeh addressed Jacob, “please do not distract her. The life of your child hangs in the balance.”

Jacob moved to the back of the tent behind Rachel’s view and quietly said to Rachel:

“I am here, my love. Focus on the labor and what Yimeh instructs you. I shall not leave you. Have no fear.”

Rachel’s answer was only: “Nnngh!”

“The second shoulder is out!” Yimeh called out joyously as she delivered the baby.

“Whaaaah!” the baby wailed before Yimeh even had a chance to give it the customary slap.

Yimeh expertly wiped the baby down and clamped the umbilical cord. She then wrapped the baby in fresh cloth and gingerly handed it to the dying mother.

“Have no fear, for this one, too, is a son for you.” Yimeh said, knowing the last words Rachel would want to hear.

Rachel clasped the boy to her and cried tears of joy and of sorrow. She turned her head to look at Jacob. She thought back to their first meeting by the well. She thought of their history. She thought of all that went unsaid and undone between them. To the life that might have been. To the children she might have raised.

Clutching the boy to her chest, with tears streaming down her face, she used her last breath to name him. “He shall be called ‘Son of my Sorrow’ – Ben-oni.”

Rachel then closed her eyes for the last time, still holding the boy tightly.

The tent was as silent as a grave.

Yimeh extracted the boy from Rachel’s dead embrace and handed him to Jacob.

Jacob cradled him tenderly in his right arm, as wordless tears rolled down his beard.

“This is a day of deep sorrow for me,” Jacob finally exhaled, “and for you my son. For you shall not know your mother, the love of my life. But your existence should not be further colored by sorrow. You are the last gift of my Rachel. Oh! My beloved, Rachel!” Jacob wept.

“’Son of my Sorrow’ is not fitting for you.” Jacob continued through his tears, “Rather, you shall remain constantly by my side. You whose countenance is so much like my Rachel. You shall be named ‘Son of my Right Arm’ – Benjamin.”

“Whaah!” was Benjamin’s only answer.

* * * * * *

Sources:

“They journeyed to Bet-El and there was still a stretch of land to go to Ephrath, when Rachel went into labor and had difficulty in her childbirth. And it was when she had difficulty in her labor that the midwife said to her, “Have no fear, for this one, too, is a son for you.” And it came to pass, as her soul was departing – for she died – that she called his name Son of my Sorrow (Ben-oni), but his father called him Benjamin.” Genesis 35:16-18