The False Treasure

By Ruth Wilent Heaney

The cry of a newborn infant pierced Sarah’s sleep. Quickly she sat up on her sleeping mat and looked across the dimly lit room where she saw the midwife gently rubbing a tiny baby with oil and salt.

“Such a shame! Another false treasure,” the woman muttered.

“I hope my husband will not be too disappointed,” Sarah’s mother said as she watched the midwife wrap the baby in swaddling clothes.

Sarah knew what a false treasure was. After all, wasn’t she one herself? It was the name Jewish people gave to girl babies. If Sarah’s new little sister had been a boy, her family and friends would have celebrated for seven days. But it wasn’t to be. Sarah’s heart felt so heavy that she didn’t want to remain in the one-room house any longer. She slipped on her robe and sandals and tiptoed to her mother’s side.

“It’s almost dawn,” she whispered. “May I meet Father’s boat and tell him about the baby?”

“Perhaps you should,” Mother said with a tired smile. “I think he would like to hear it from you.”

Sarah looked down at the baby who was resting in her mother’s arms. Her tiny head was covered with black hair, and her dark eyes blinked solemnly.

“She’s very beautiful. Will you tell your father that?” Mother asked.

“Oh, yes,” Sarah promised, her eyes filling with tears as she hurried from the mud-brick house.

Sarah continued to run until she reached a grassy knoll that overlooked the Sea of Galilee. There she threw herself down on the grass and waited. The hills around her were silent and dark against the sky. Ahead in the distance she could see lights winking on the horizon. She wondered if they were the torches that the fishermen used to attract the fish. Sarah hoped her father had caught many silvery fish in his nets. Maybe a good catch will help ease his disappointment at getting a second false treasure, Sarah thought.

She tried to shake her sadness by remembering that at least she and her sister had been allowed to live. If they had been born in another country, they might not have been so fortunate. Traders who passed through Galilee, selling linens and spices, had told many stories about what happened to girls who were born in foreign lands. Still, it was a painful feeling knowing you weren’t really wanted.

Now Sarah could see the fishing vessels heading homeward across the ruffled water. When her father’s boat docked at last, she leaped to her feet and skittered down the hillside to the beach.

“Father! Father!” she called to him as she ran.

Her father turned toward her. “What is it, Sarah?” he asked.

“Did you catch many fish?”

“Yes, I did,” he replied, laughing at her through his full beard. “But I do not think you got up at dawn just to ask me that.”

“No,” Sarah said quietly, and she began kicking at the sand. “I came to tell you that the baby has been born.”

“No wonder I had such a lucky night at sea!” her father said, giving Sarah a hug that swept her off her feet.

“But the baby is a false treasure, Father,” she said, searching his eyes.

“Is she healthy?” he wanted to know.

“Yes,” Sarah said.

“And your mother? How is your mother?” he asked.

“She is all right. She said to tell you that the baby is very beautiful.”

“And you, my Sarah? Are you sad because the baby is a false treasure?”

“I am sad for you, Father. You have no son to head your family when you grow old,” Sarah said. “Why can’t a daughter do that? Why does she have to be the false treasure?”

Father sat down on the sand and pulled Sarah down beside him. “Do you know why our people call a girl that?” he asked.

Sarah shook her head.

“It’s because she will marry and leave home when she is thirteen,” he explained. “She will live with her husband’s people, for that is our way.”

“But that isn’t her fault,” Sarah pointed out. “She didn’t make those rules. A girl isn’t allowed to do important things like making rules. And why is she called false when she spins and weaves and draws water and cooks and cleans?”

“Enough!” her father said, smiling and covering his ears with his rough hands. “You’ve convinced me. A girl is a treasure of great worth.”

“You’re teasing me,” Sarah said.

“No, I’m not,” Father said, growing serious.

“Then why don’t you let me head your household for you?” she asked. “I would try to do a good job.”

“I can’t,” he answered. “It is a son’s place to do that, but you have taught me something this morning, Sarah. You, your mother, and your sister have important jobs to do. I know I’ll never call a girl a false treasure again.”

“Then neither will I,” Sarah said.

“You know, Sarah, when the day comes for you to leave home,” Father said, “I will give you away proudly.”

“Why?” Sarah asked, puzzled.

“Because I know I will be giving your husband someone very special.”

“Will you feel that way about my sister too?” Sarah asked.

“If she’s only one-tenth as precious as you, I am sure I will,” Father answered lovingly.

Sarah smiled up at him. She thought that the sun rising above the hills of Galilee had never looked lovelier.

“Do you have time to see the baby before you take care of the fish?” she asked.

“I shall make time,” Father said. “It’s not every night that God sends us a baby. Besides, we must help your mother think of a name for her. A beautiful treasure has to have a beautiful name, doesn’t she?”

Illustrated by Parry Merkley