“Neither will your father. The advantage you have is that you’re not dead, so at least you’ll hear the words as we read them to you.”

“Yes,” said Isaac. “Yes, I see the wisdom of that.” He stilled his weeping. “I’m sorry you saw me being so weak. Grieving for my eyes like a child who lost a toy.”

“I saw my father’s grief when he lost his hearing. Losing your vision is harder. Of course you grieve.”

“It wasn’t for my eyes, Rebekah, truly it wasn’t. I give thanks that I ever had them. I grieved because . . . just when the Lord gave me vision in the spirit for the first time, he’s taken away the vision of my eyes. What have I done to be so unworthy?”

“This isn’t a punishment,” said Rebekah. “It’s . . . part of life. These things happen to people. You’re not the first blind man, or we wouldn’t already have a word for it, would we?”

“I know,” he said. “And yes, Rebekah, the work of copying must be done. If the Lord makes me blind, then my sons have to be my eyes and hands. And if the Lord has given me a wife who can read and write, I would be ungrateful not to let you be my helpmeet in this as in all other things.”

He had heard her offer, had thought about it, and without Abraham here to be adamant, he could see that the old rule was not helpful now, and change it.

He reached out and touched her face. “There’s one gift in my blindness, though. You’ll always be as beautiful in my eyes as you are today.”

“You’re so silly, Isaac. My beauty fled years ago, such as it was. I’m an old woman. Though of course I’m still but a child compared to you.”

He laughed. “Ah, but you’ve stayed beautiful. In fact, you’ve grown more beautiful with every day and year that’s passed. Even when we argue, you know, I still marvel that the Lord loved me enough to give you to me as my wife.”

“Oh, come now. You just didn’t know it, but I was the first of the plagues the Lord sent to you, blindness being by far the lesser one.”

He kissed her, and then let his lips explore her cheeks, her eyes, her brow. “I can depend on you,” he said.

“For everything.”

“You’ll be my eyes. Whatever you see, you’ll tell me.”

“I will.”

“I’ll always see truly, with you as my eyes.”

“As truly as I see. I can’t be any wiser for you than I am for myself.”

“That’s vision enough for me,” said Isaac.

“And you have the Lord to speak truth into your heart.”

“Yes. I do.”