Miriam

It was very strange watching my mother put my brother into the river. I was six years old then, and curious.

My mom and dad never talked about it, but I knew that Hebrew babies were in trouble. We stopped celebrating when a baby was born. I wasn’t allowed to talk about my new brother to anybody. Then when he was three months old, my mom put him in a basket and laid him in the river.

That day I snuck away during chore time and watched. I heard him cry, but I was too scared to wade into the water and check on him. So, I just watched the basket rock on the waves. Watched the fish in the water swim around the basket.

Then I heard someone coming. I was scared. I crouched low in the reeds to hide.

It was a slave girl.

I watched her between the reeds as she picked up the basket and walked to the shore. I had to stretch my neck out of the reeds to see as the girl handed the basket to a woman – a glamorous woman who stood tall. I stared at this woman. She looked nothing like the women I knew – my mother and the other Hebrew women. She was exotic. The daughter of the Pharaoh.

I was afraid.

Egyptians hated Hebrews.

We were their slaves.

What would she do to my brother?

I held my breath.

She reached for the basket, curiosity on her face. I could hear my brother crying. Her face softened. She said, “This is one of the Hebrew babies.” She sounded sad.

I watched as she cradled my brother and peered into his little face. She smiled at him, but it was a sad smile. She bounced as she held him. She seemed to care about him. She seemed to say to him, “I’m sorry.”

Before I knew what I was doing, I ran out from the reeds. I stood before the glamorous, exotic woman. I said, “Shall I go and get one of the Hebrew women to nurse the baby for you?”

She looked at me.

She stopped bouncing.

She was silent.

Suddenly I realized what I had done. I had addressed the Pharaoh’s daughter. Royalty. Without permission. And I was just a little kid.

I looked down at my feet.

I held my breath.

I waited for my punishment.

And then an incredible thing happened. Pharaoh’s daughter said, “Yes, go.”

I looked up at her. She was gazing down at me. Her eyes seemed to smile.

I couldn’t believe what she had said.

“Yes, go.”

“Yes” – She liked my idea. She – a princess – liked my idea – a little kid.

“Go.” – She wanted me to help. She sent me to carry out my idea.

I grinned.

I nodded.

I spun around and ran all the way home.

I was giddy. I felt affirmed.

Pharaoh’s daughter liked my idea!

I burst in the door and called for my mom. She didn’t understand why, but she followed me all the way to the river. And I brought her to Pharaoh’s daughter. My mom was terrified, just like I had been. She, too, looked at her feet and held her breath.

And then the glamorous, exotic woman said, “Take this baby and nurse him for me, and I will pay you.” She smiled openly at my mother.

We took my brother – the princess had named him Moses, saying, “I drew him out of the water.” We took him home.