Ruth: Reimagined

Mara

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Mara
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Losing Oprah was a quiet loss. The first night after she left, Naomi and Ruth found shelter under another tree. As the darkness covered the land, cold wind whistled through their clothes, the warmth of what they had was not enough, and the silence deepened. Not another tear was shed. It was a different kind of pain, a different kind of loss.

But a loss nonetheless.

Ruth tucked the dagger she was given, safely away, near her hip, where at times, she could feel the tip. She took it out in the middle of the night, holding it in her hands- staring. Naomi was quiet, too, her face etched in sorrow. At times, she'd glance at Ruth as if to check that she was still there.

Eventually, they fell asleep, with their arms wrapped tightly around themselves.

Naomi had a dream that was a melody of grief. Elimilek was there. Mahlon. Chillion and even Orpah. She woke up, a heaviness in her soul, her heart burdened, the silence was deafening. Searching in the darkness, she saw Ruth fast asleep, hands still wrapped around herself.

Relief flooded her fallen face, and a small smile touched her lips as she stared at Ruth.

It was gone the next moment, as she turned away, and looked up at the sky. The tree leaves gave them glimpses of its dark hues, of the stars, and the moon. It seemed closer than it ever was.

In a few days, Naomi would step foot on Israel. Oh, how she hoped-prayed, that it would be her very last day. She wouldn't mind if it all led to that, if it all ended in her witnessing the glory of her land one more time before her last breath.

Then Ruth stirred beside her, mumbling something in her sleep. Naomi turned at the sound, the guilt and anger slamming into her at once.

It would've been better if Ruth had left with Orpah.

"What am I going to do with you?" Naomi whispered, staring at the woman, who would follow her into a fire wholeheartedly.

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Stepping foot on Israel, the first thing Ruth was drawn to was Naomi. Gold light filled her eyes and touched her pale skin, but there was not even a shadow of the warmth that Ruth had once seen in Naomi's eyes.

It was weird how it was Ruth who noticed their arrival first.

Naomi, still dragging herself to take the next step, ignoring the ache in her body, the pulsing feeling in her feet, kept on in a quiet daze. Till she heard the sound of a child's laughter, the call of Israel's joy.

Lifting her head, slowly, Naomi took in her surroundings, her pace a lot slower. She felt her heart pulse through every part of her body, and she felt the depth of her grief, like an emptiness in her heart.

Ruth held her hand like she'd felt Naomi's emotional shift. Her grip wasn't strong. It was tender, simply there. They kept on, Naomi keeping her hand in Ruth's grip, taking the fullness of Israel, the closer they got to Bethlehem

Nestled among the Judean hills was Bethlehem. A modest cluster of stone houses perched on terraced slopes. Olive trees cast long shadows over dusty paths, while flocks of sheep roamed the pastures beyond its low walls. From the hilltops, one could glimpse the distant silhouette of Jerusalem, its temple gleaming in the sun.

Memories slammed into her, like a wave that threatened to leave her drowning.

She could still feel the heat of those golden summer days when she was just a girl, running barefoot with her friends to the well, their laughter echoing across the hills. The shepherd boys would chase them, their voices ringing out like wild birds in the open air. At night, she would wander the fields with her father, lantern light flickering in the dark, calling out to lost sheep. Every rustle in the grass sent her heart racing, and she would run to him, clutching his arm, his steady voice soothing her fears.