Anna helped her mother to her feet.

“In here,” Yoseph told them, running ahead.

Inside her father’s workshop, Anna smelled the familiar scents of cedar and lamp oil. A soft layer of woodchips cushioned their steps.

“Can you guess?” he asked, placing his hand on top of a large object covered with goatskins.

Mari smiled broadly. “What is it, Yoseph? Show us!” she begged.

“Behold!” he shouted, lifting the skins with a flourish. He revealed a small but ornate cradle. It hovered above two curved runners. On its sides, elaborate designs had been inlaid with different colored woods. Her father touched the cradle lightly and it began to rock. “For our son,” he said. “Our future blessing from God.”

Anna’s mouth fell open. Awash in disbelief, her eyes traveled back and forth from her father to the cradle.

What was this? she wondered. Her father had never made a special gift for her. And her brother was not even born yet!

“It is beautiful, Yoseph,” Mari said.

Yoseph turned. Studied her swollen belly. “Not nearly as beautiful as you,” he said. He took his wife into his arms. Leaned to kiss her on the mouth.

Smiling, Mari turned so that his lips found her soft cheek instead.

Yoseph sat cross-legged on the mat to prepare for his meal. He seemed taller than Mari remembered, as she watched him out of the corner of her eye. His face was beaming and even the gray in his beard and the stoop in his shoulders seemed suddenly youthful. She felt relief for the joy she would soon bring him. After long years of waiting, finally, he would have a son.

Anna knelt to remove her father’s sandals. When his feet were bare, she poured a bowl of water and held it before him. Yoseph scooped his hands into the bowl then held them aloft, allowing the water to run to his elbows. He dunked a second time, keeping his hands down, sending the water to drip off his fingertips. Anna lifted a towel from her forearm. He took it and dried his hands. He then tossed the damp and crumpled cloth into her lap.

Mari came and sat.

Glancing over at her parents, Anna thought the two made a strange pair. Her mother stood tall, lean, and exotic, a lush sweep cupping her dark eyelashes. Her father, by contrast, was light-skinned, short, and broad. Her mother, Anna thought, rose toward the sky like a vine, while her father clung to the earth like a shrub. The women at the well said that her father had married with luck on his side because, though older, and not altogether handsome, he had taken a striking young woman as his wife. As for her mother, Anna did not know if she had married with luck on her side or not.