Chapter 3
While I was in the fields I could let my mind
wander to the past, and sometimes I even smiled at the thought of a future.
Would I always be one of the poor?... a gleaner, always? Would I someday
remarry?... because at times now I could think such a thought. At other times it
was still too painful to consider... but I could tell that the grief was
healing, slowly. Naomi’s companionship was itself a healing balm and
bond... but there were times when I longed for a home of my own again, some
simple household tasks, a loving husband, and yes, I even dared to dream again
of little ones. There were many young men in Bethlehem, but I saw little of
them. My main contact with men was limited to Boaz’s reapers, who would
acknowledge my presence with occasional comments on the weather or inquiries as
to Naomi’s health.
As for Boaz, he visited his fields daily and
spoke to me, as he did to his laborers and the other gleaners. And so, I would
dismiss my daydreams with the thought that all things were in my Heavenly
Father’s capable hands, and He would provide for me in all my concerns, in
due time. For now there was work to be done, by me.
I suspected that Naomi worried about my safety
from time to time. I would leave home as the gray dawn appeared, and return only
when the sun was setting. But I would tell her in words that she had often
spoken to me:
“The Lord is my light and my salvation
— whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life — of whom
shall I be afraid?”
Little did I realize that Naomi was concerned for
me in ways other than my safety in or near the fields!
Thus it was quite a shock when one evening she
said to me:
“My daughter, should I not try to find a
home for you, where you will be well provided for?”
I sat staring at her... my mind was a whirl of
confusion. I felt light-headed. She was speaking... she was speaking of marriage
for me! And not just to someone I did not know... but of marriage to Boaz, our
wealthy relative... the man for whom I gleaned! She continued:
“Tonight he will be winnowing barley on
the threshing floor. Wash and perfume yourself, and put on your best clothes.
Then go down to the threshing floor, but don’t let him know you are there
until he has finished eating and drinking. When he lies down, note the place
where he is lying. Then go and uncover his feet and lie down. He will tell you
what to do.”
I heard my own voice replying:
“I will do whatever you
say.”
I moved about our little house in a numb
condition. How strange all of this seemed! So sudden! I was not in love with
Boaz....or with anyone else! What a contrast to my courtship with Mahlon —
we had had many visits, fallen in love and dreamily made plans. Then his father
and he had visited my family, paid the dowry, and made the announcements. There
had been the busy preparation time before the wedding — he, his father,
and his brother had built and furnished our home; my mother and sisters and I
were occupied with wedding garments and other arrangements. But now — ?
Was Naomi sure of this custom? It was something of which I knew very little
— and evidently a law very seldom observed in Israel. What if servants
discovered me with Boaz? What if he refused to marry me? I had learned much of
Israel’s laws. I knew that when she talked of seeking rest for me, Naomi
meant finding me a husband to care for and shelter me. I was to ask Boaz to
spread his garment over me — thus I was asking him to protect me —
to marry me.
I learned that the Law provided for a brother or
next of kin to take his relative’s widow as his wife. I learned, too, that
the firstborn of such a marriage would be in memory of the deceased — with
all legal rights and properties belonging to that child. I wasn’t sure I
was ready for all this. True, I had thought of remarrying... someday... but this
was so sudden, so unusual. What would Boaz think of such a forward young woman?
Would he, like others, see me as a Moabite — to be shunned forever? How
was I to say the words? The thoughts tumbled together in my mind... and remained
so as I followed Naomi’s instructions. She was my mother-in-law, my
parent... and I dutifully obeyed her. She had my wellbeing always in her mind
— my physical and spiritual concerns were hers. But... what if?... No!...
I must not doubt! Prayer after prayer went through my confused mind. This God
of Israel had looked after me for some time now — I had to leave it all to
Him. There was no turning back.
It was dark as I slipped nervously into the quiet
streets of Bethlehem and moved on toward the edge of town. My feet knew the
pathway, even if my mind was unsure. As I approached the threshing floor, I
could hear Boaz bidding a good night to some guests. They had had a meal
together, with a fair amount of wine, and some seemed a little unsteady on their
feet. I remained in the shadows, watching, listening. Then Boaz’s chief
servant came to see what final tasks his master might have for him. But Boaz
dismissed him for the night, and in just a few minutes he lay down at the end of
a pile of grain.
I waited, nervously, till the last sounds of
human life in the area were gone. Sounds of the night were all around. Crickets
chirped softly in the warm earth; an owl in a nearby tree hooted repeatedly, and
overhead the moon and stars twinkled in a black, velvet sky. I could hear Boaz
breathing deeply and regularly as he drifted into heavy sleep. It had been a
busy, tiring day and he slept well. Yes, the sleep of a laborer is sweet. Still
I waited... was there no other way? None, it seemed. I must continue with the
plan, and I must continue to believe that all would work out
well.
Softly I crept over to him — and with
trembling hands I lifted his blanket and slipped under at his feet. I lay there
minute after minute... hour after hour... afraid of a servant coming, afraid to
move lest I wake Boaz... and yet knowing that my quest could only be finished if
he were awake. I shivered as the warm evening turned to a cooler night, but was
it the night air, or was it just my very anxious mind and body anticipating the
dawn? At some point in the night, Boaz stretched and turned in his sleep. And it
was at this time that he was suddenly aware of another body near him. He awoke
with a start and, as we both sat up, he realized that a woman was with him. All
the anxieties of the previous hours were now concentrated on this single moment.
Now was the time. I must speak as Naomi instructed me. And now, I spoke first to
my Heavenly Father, quickly, and then to Boaz, who had asked:
“Who are
you?”
“I am your servant Ruth. Spread the
corner of your garment over me, since you are a
kinsman-redeemer.”
I heard him gasp and then there was a long
silence. How my poor mind raced with regrets. Why had I let Naomi talk me into
this? How would I bear the shame of his refusal? Where would I go? How would we
live? So many questions flashed through my head. After what seemed like many
minutes, he spoke:
“The Lord bless you, my daughter. This
kindness is greater than that which you showed earlier: You have not run after
the younger men, whether rich or poor. And now, my daughter, don’t be
afraid. I will do for you all you ask. All my fellow townsmen know that you are
a woman of noble character. Although it is true that I am near of kin, there is
a kinsman and redeemer nearer than I. Stay here for the night, and in the
morning if he wants to redeem, good; let him redeem. But if he is not willing,
as surely as the Lord lives I will do it. Lie here until
morning.”
And so I lay back down at his feet, but sleep was
impossible. Was this really true? Or was I dreaming? The reality of the
grain-covered ground, hard under me, the smell of the threshing floor and
Boaz’s light breathing nearby, assured me that I was awake —
and that, yes, I had indeed accomplished my task. Boaz would marry me. But first
he had to see if the nearer kinsman wanted to marry me instead. I wondered who
that was — what was he like? Did he already have a wife and children?
Would he want a “Moabite” for a wife? Boaz would attend to all the
details in the morning, he had said.
I was just drifting into an exhausted sleep when
Boaz gently awakened me — it was near dawn and time for me to leave so no
one would see us together. Before I left he filled my veil with barley to take
home to Naomi. And then we parted — Boaz went toward town to attend to our
business, and I went home. Naomi was up and waiting. (Had she ever gone to
sleep? Had she spent an anxious night like I had?) As I entered, she eagerly
greeted me —
“How did it go, my
daughter?”
I told her everything. Then Naomi
said,
“Wait, my daughter, until you find out
what happens. For the man will not rest until the matter is settled
today.”
Thus we sat down to await what this new day would
bring... this new day which followed such a strange night for me, Ruth, widow of
Mahlon, an Israelite. For me there was no rest... just waiting.
As we waited, I remembered. I remembered so many
times of waiting in these past years. I had waited daily, hourly, for
Mahlon’s visits. I had waited for a wedding announcement. I had waited for
a wedding, for a new home, for a new life, for a child born of new love, new
hopes and dreams... a child which had never come. I had waited beside sick beds;
I had waited beside the dying; I had waited for prayers to be answered. I had
spent so much time waiting.
And now I waited again for my future to be
decided at a town gate.