Bold Girls Speak
Girls of the Bible Come Alive Today
Mary Stromer Hanson
Illustrated by
Lisa Guinther
Bold Girls Speak
Girls of the Bible Come Alive Today
Copyright © 2013 Mary Stromer Hanson. All rights reserved. Except for brief quotations in critical publications or reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without prior written permission from the publisher. Write: Permissions. Wipf and Stock Publishers, 199 W. 8th Ave., Suite 3, Eugene, OR 97401.
Wipf & Stock
An Imprint of Wipf and Stock Publishers
199 W. 8th Ave., Suite 3
Eugene, OR 97401
www.wipfandstock.com
ISBN 13: 978-1-62032-482-0
EISBN 13: 978-1-62189-923-5
Manufactured in the U.S.A.
Dedicated to
Rev. Jonathan D. Male
1935–1996
“I will sing of the mercies of the Lord forever”
Foreword
I was listening to a sermon titled the “Raising of the Daughter of Jairus,” sometime in the mid-1990s, when it occurred to me that I wished I had noticed that passage when I was much younger. Normally, Mark 5:21–43 is taught from the point of view of the father, or Jesus, or the disciples, but I wondered why not give attention to the girl’s experience? This daughter was precious in the sight of both her parents and Jesus. Throughout my childhood Christian education, I had the impression that girls were invisible in the church. The stories were always about the men, kings, disciples, and some sons. Occasionally a woman would show up, but never a girl. I realized how empowering it could be for girls to see themselves in the Bible stories. I quickly thought of a few more girls who are under-represented in the Sunday school lesson books. Since then, I have discovered even more girls tucked into overlooked verses, both in the Old and New Testament.
Throughout years of teaching school and then in seminary training, I never let go of the idea of developing these stories. It must have been a calling; I rewrote them many times as I gained more knowledge and experience as a writer. The ten stories in this book are written as accurately as possible to their historical, cultural, and biblical settings. To enrich the learning possibilities of these stories, I have created additional episodes that bring in more female characters and experiences. These girls are brave and smart. They make the best of difficult situations, often in foreign cultures and under the condition of forced servitude. They solve problems and survive, all the while witnessing to their faith and living true to their God. The stories in this book can be read in chronological order, but doing so is not necessary because each story is self-contained. Although girls are the main characters in these stories, most include boys as well. This book can be used for classes or for individual enjoyment. Depending on the discretion of teachers and parents, more mature students can be guided through a discussion of the suggested questions that follow each story. The stories themselves are appropriate for any audience.
The pastor who I listened to that Sunday morning so long ago was Rev. Jonathan D. Male (1935–1996) of Park Hill Presbyterian Church in Denver, Colorado. He was a kind and generous man who encouraged and helped me heal during a hard time in my life. A few short years later, he met his maker on Christmas Eve, a victim of cancer that took his life too early. His inspiration and encouragement caused me to begin writing these stories, and it is in his memory I dedicate this book.
Acknowledgments
Many people have helped me complete the writing of this book, which spanned more than a decade. Before I started seminary, several good friends read my first attempts at writing stories. Merry and Linda Male read my early tentative efforts. Mary Ellen Sweeny, PhD, applied her editing skills to an early draft. I also attended the Colorado Christian Writers Conferences at Estes Park and Mt. Hermon where I benefited from Tricia Goyer’s fiction writers workshop. Outstanding English teachers, Margaret Wehner and Colette Schneider (1946–2012), from the Montview Presbyterian Church, Denver, and Patty Crowley from “316” helpfully read through manuscripts.
I owe many thanks to the professors of Denver Seminary whose classes greatly added to my background knowledge and writing ability. Dr. Richard Hess reviewed the Old Testament stories; Dr. Judith Diehl edited the New Testament stories, and Dr. Hélène Dallaire reviewed the New Testament stories with an eye toward Second Temple Jewish background. They greatly increased my confidence that the historical, cultural, and theological background is as accurate as possible. Rev. Dr. Richard Craft read over one of my last drafts, reading from beginning to end. My collaboration with Lisa Guinther, who also read everything with a philosopher’s point of view, adds the visual appeal to the book as the illustrator. I thank her for her prayer support and enthusiasm for the project.
Last, but not least, I thank the members of the Denver Seminary writers’ group who read all the stories and corrected many mistakes, great and minute. This group includes Peggy McIntyre, MA; Megan Jooranstad, MA; Grace Kong, M Div; and Jean Hess D Min. My greatest thanks and love to my husband, Clement, and children, Ben and Anne, none of who have read any of this, but nevertheless indulge Mom in her study and writing passion.
Miriam Who Negotiated
Exodus 2
The Hardship Becomes Harder
With every step she slogged through the mud, water splashed from the baskets swinging from a wooden yoke across her shoulders. She and many other children had run the path countless times, which became swampier as the day wore on. They ran to the river, a tributary of the Nile, scooped up water, and carried it to the vats where workers raked the clay and straw into a thick mud. Their tightly woven baskets, lined with pitch, did not hold up under the constant hard use.
“Faster, you Hebrew slaves, you sluggards,” the slave master commanded while he cracked his whip near her heels. The children could not keep up with the brick makers’ demand for water. All afternoon she had run to the river, filled her container, and then carried it as fast as she could to the tubs. Her back hurt, her hands were cramped, and her legs were rubbed raw by the rough baskets.
“You dogs, you filthy lazy Hebrews, faster; Pharaoh will cancel your next day of rest if the quota is not reached.” Another slave driver cracked a whip over the workers at the tubs. They were so used to it they did not even flinch at the sound.
Every drop of water was necessary, yet she and the other children could only carry so much. The basket was watertight that morning, but it would start to leak from the creases as the day wore on. When the leaking became impossible, she had to use clay jars, and they were much heavier. If she did not get enough water to the brick makers, the Egyptian taskmasters would whip the workers who were her kinsfolk, her father and mother, extended family, and many villagers.
Wooden frames lay on the ground that formed hundreds of rectangles. Workers poured the mud into each of the molds and leveled off the top smoothly. The mud soon firmed up, and then the frame could be carefully lifted off to reveal new bricks, which would bake in the sun. The number of rows times the number of bricks in each row was carefully counted, and represented the total day’s work for Miriam’s village. At sunset, the Egyptian overseer would come over and note the final tally. If the number was not high enough, harsh words and penalties would be shouted.
“Pharaoh already has a huge palace. I would like to do some building on my own house,” one