Chapter 3 – Advent’s Way to the House of Bread: On the Road – This Is Not a Dream!
- Beata
- 2 days ago
- 6 min read
Updated: 3 hours ago
On the Road – This Is Not a Dream! – Advent’s Way to the House of Bread
The guide raised his hand to signal to the camel drivers to start moving forward. “Hold on tight!” The camel jerked, lifting itself with its characteristic movement, first at the back, then at the front. Frightened, Gabi grabbed the edge of the saddle with one hand and, automatically, Marcel’s hair with the other. Of course, she didn’t mean to hurt him. It was completely automatic! Marcel screamed in pain, trying to regain his balance, so there was no time to exchange complaints.
“Oh, mother…” Gabi moaned. “Sorry! I really didn’t mean it, and your head was closest. But what a ride!” In her excitement, she forgot her fear. She smiled at Marcel because the spirit of adventure had awakened in her. “I’ve never had such a thrill! Better than Canada Wonderland!”
Marcel just waved, pointing at a flock of black storks flying over the caravan. Their long wings spread wide, contrasting with the blue sky. Loud, hoarse cries filled the air. “Look, Gabi, how fast they’re flying. They must be in a hurry for dinner.
“Or for gossip, because they’re so chatty,” Gabi laughed. One of the storks suddenly turned in the air, circling above them as if checking what they were talking about. “This one can’t decide whether to keep flying or become our guide.” Gabi and Marcel burst out laughing, and the stork finally flew off to join its friends, flapping its wings in farewell. Gabi waved back.
The caravan, in which Gabi and Marcel had somehow ended up, was travelling from the north – from the area around the Sea of Galilee, full of fishermen, merchants, travellers returning from markets, and pilgrims heading to Jerusalem. People wrapped themselves in warm, woollen cloaks. Although the day was sunny, winter in Galilee could be harsh, especially with a north wind. After the night rains, the air smelled of wet earth, thyme, and smoke from distant fires.
The camels moved slowly, rocking the children so gently that Gabi nearly fell asleep in her saddle again. The guide’s monotonous voice calmed her heart. She heard words, the same words he repeated while marching: “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul...”
On the spacious meadows and hills of Galilee, green pastures stretched out. They often passed sheep grazing along streams, where the grass was juicier than on the hills. Gabi felt the words as if they were about her: “He leads me in the right paths for His name’s sake. Even though I walk through the dark valley, I will fear no evil, for You are with me. Your rod and Your staff comfort me... “
A rod?” Gabi thought. “A rod? Hmm, maybe grace?” Nevertheless, when they passed through a deeper valley, the guide’s words came alive.
Gabi listened more attentively. “You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life.”
Marcel, more alert, observed everything with wide-open eyes. He pulled out his notebook in a leather cover and scribbled intensely. Gabi peeked over his shoulder. She would have liked to take out her crayons from her backpack, but instead hugged her little stuffed sheep. “I don’t know if this is a good idea, ” she said quietly to herself, but loud enough for her brother to hear. “If the camel trips on a stone, the notebook will be lost forever.
“Don’t worry about me, take care of the sheep,” said Marcel. Gabi was showing her the scenery they passed, and with thought and pauses, whispered single sentences from Psalm 23, not knowing it was King David’s psalm. She comforted her sheep, unaware of how deeply these words were embedding themselves in her heart - words she would later pull out like candies from a box.
The landscape looked different from what they knew: hills covered in fresh winter green, low shrubs of sage and oregano, olive groves scattered like silver dots. In places, the earth revealed light limestone rocks shining in the sun.
Among his drawings, Marcel also wrote:
“When the Lord cares for me like a shepherd, then I shall never lack anything. I am sure that His friendship and loving goodness will be with me every day for the rest of my life...and this is why i will stay by Your side, Lord God, forever.”
The road was one of Galilee’s main trade routes. Every day, caravans, pilgrims, merchants from Decapolis, and shepherds driving their sheep passed this way. The guides kept to the well-trodden, wide path because beyond it were winding, dangerous trails full of bushes where it was easy to get tangled or lost.
Midday, they stopped to rest. They dismounted onto a broad field. The camels groaned as they knelt on the short grass. The man, who now looked more kindly at the children, helped them out of the saddle. Marcel watched the camel, wondering if he should pet it, but Gabi grabbed his hand and ran toward a group of children around her age. Only now did she notice that they weren’t wearing their clothes. Apart from their surprised faces, our heroes didn’t stand out among the other children. And although they didn’t know the language, somehow they could communicate.
While the adults unloaded the luggage, the children first played tag and then hide-and-seek. Marcel kept an eye on Gabi so she wouldn’t get lost in the dense bushes. Even on the main wide road, they didn’t pass a single McDonald’s or gas station with a bathroom. Meanwhile, their stomachs started rumbling.
The adults brought out simple food: barley bread, dates, and pieces of hard goat cheese. The children were given warm water with a bit of honey to warm them up and quench their thirst. Marcel, who didn’t like cheese, ate everything he was given – he was that hungry.
First, the men and boys ate their portions, while the women and girls served them. When they finished, the girls ate what was left.
Of course, everyone washed their hands before eating and offered thanks to God. Their prayer sounded a bit different from the one they recited at home...
[Baruch ata Adonai Eloheinu Melech ha-olam,ha-motzi lechem min ha-aretz.]
“Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the universe, who brings forth bread from the earth.”
They would hear these words before every meal, and after eating:
“Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the universe, who nourishes us with bread and the bounty of the earth.”
[Baruch ata Adonai Eloheinu Melech ha-olam,she-zan et ha-olam be-lechem.]
Throughout, Marcel carefully observed the adults and other children. He didn’t let Gabi stray too far. “Do the same as she does. Sit by her and learn,” he said, pointing to a smiling girl. He himself was among a few boys of similar height, imitating their actions. He tried to blend in, but also felt a growing gratitude for his own family, home, and the times he came from.
The fire crackled quietly, and the wind rustled the branches of low trees. The air still carried the scent not only of camels but also of freshly baked barley cakes and bread from a distant settlement – the smell of home and safety.
When they set off again, the sun was already high overhead and began to warm more strongly. They didn’t need to cover themselves with blankets. The caravan climbed a nearby hill. From its slope, the children could see a vast expanse ahead: a wide valley, here and there cut by juniper bushes. They had already passed steep mountain sections. From the camel’s back, the gentle hills covered with short winter grass and terebinth and pistachio shrubs were clearly visible. The road also widened, forming a natural roundabout, and on the western branch of a hill, white dots of houses could be seen.
“Are we far?” Gabi asked. Marcel shrugged, but the mysterious man leading their camel pointed in the distance at a greenish patch. “There…,” he said. “A familiar stop just before Nazareth.”
They soon dismounted near the base of the Mount of the Precipice, a well-known landmark where caravans often rested before entering the city, stretching their legs and preparing for the last stretch of their journey.
Relief was audible in his voice, but the children didn’t understand much beyond the familiar name – Nazareth.
“Maybe our parents are waiting for us there?” Gabi said, hopefully.
Do you want to know what happened next? Advent’s Way to the House of Bread continues in the next chapter.
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