Daughters of Zelophehad

Chapter 1

            The pillar of cloud—the Glory of God—stood steadfastly before the thousands of tents of Israel. The sun shone brightly upon them. Could one have viewed them from above, one would have seen a huge cross—the formation in which the tents were set up surrounding the tabernacle.

            Judah, Issachar, and Zebulun on the east; Reuben, Simeon, and Gad on the south; Ephraim, Benjamin, and Manasseh on the west, and Dan, Asher, and Naphtali on the north.

            There had been a gentle breeze earlier in the day, but as Zelophehad entered his tent on the very outer edge of the camp, it seemed there was not one breath of air to be had in the whole of the wilderness.

            There, on one of the straw mats used for sleeping, lay Naronah, his wife, pale and still and beautiful in death. Beside her, the attending women had placed the body of the child to which she had given birth that morning.

            It was a male child. He was perfectly formed in every way, but he, too, was pale and still and dead.

            Zelophehad fell to his knees and let out a cry that split the surrounding silence, “Oh, God of Israel! Forgive me!” The anguish in the cry was so palpable it rent the hearts of his five daughters who huddled together at the side of the tent.

            Mahlah, the oldest, felt faint, but kept an arm firmly around her youngest sister and she sank in a heap in the dust of the tent floor to weep for her mother. Little Tirzah put her arms around Mahlah and patted her in an effort to comfort her.

            Noah walked to where her father had fallen. Her eyes were blazing with anger. She could hardly restrain herself; she wanted to spit upon him. “You see what your unfairness has brought about! All she ever wanted in her whole life was to please you. How could you have treated her so?”

            This question brought gasps from the women attending the two bodies.

            Noah’s mouth contorted this way and that as she strove as to keep back tears and more bitterness. Zelophehad did not move or give indication that he heard his second daughter’s words. She stood over him, straight and slim and tall. Her graceful hands which were very brown from being in the sun day after day, opened and closed into fists several times before she burst into tears and ran out of the tent.

            She ran back to the sheep to share her anger and grief with her charges.