“If Esau proves unworthy, there’s plenty of time to teach Jacob. But we’re not going to put it in his head to covet a birthright that will never be his.”

So that was it, thought Rebekah. The Lord’s prophecy made them suspicious of Jacob, made them want to keep even the knowledge of reading and writing away from him.

But Rebekah had no patience with such nonsense. She told Jacob that very afternoon that she had a new game to teach him, and soon he was learning his letters. She told him to keep it a secret between them until he was good enough to show his father and grandfather, and so every day they worked on the letters until Jacob could read anything she wrote, even when he had never heard the word before, and could write quite legibly, too.

She should have known, however, that such a secret could not be kept. Jacob didn’t tell anyone, but he did scratch the letters into the dirt when the shepherds wouldn’t let him get close to the flashing knives at shearing time. The next day Isaac saw the random letters and words written in the dirt—including the sentence “Yes I am old enough” in a very bold and angry hand—and he immediately came to Rebekah.

“I told you that boy was not to be taught!” he said. It was the first time he had ever been openly angry with her, and instead of being contrite, she was angry right back at him.

“You said that you and your father wouldn’t teach him the writing in the holy books.”

“That didn’t mean for you to do it in our place.”

“But Isaac, I didn’t teach him the letters of the holy writings. I taught him the letters my father’s household used to communicate with him.”

“It’s the same thing! Almost.”

“How would I know that? I’ve never seen the holy writings, and you’ve never shown the slightest interest in seeing the writing I did know. So I’m passing along my family’s writing to Jacob, just as you’re passing your family’s writing to Esau. Someday. When he sits still long enough and doesn’t rip the ancient parchments.”

“Now I understand,” said Isaac, “why your father was so angry with your mother for her defiance!”

The words struck her so hard she lost her breath and couldn’t answer. Isaac realized at once that he’d gone too far, but his effort at amelioration only made it worse. “Not that teaching Jacob to read is the same as worshiping Asherah.”

“I’m glad you can see the difference,” said Rebekah acidly.

“But the fact remains that you disobeyed my decision.”

“The fact remains,” said Rebekah, “that I did no such thing, because you never made it a commandment to me.”

“Well I make it a commandment now.”

“And what would you have me do? Go into Jacob’s memory and strike out all his knowledge of writing?”

“Leave it alone and he’ll forget it.”