By the time Naaman, Ophiram and Manoah reached the assembly place outside the city gates, there was already a large crowd of men present. Every man in Kedesh and the surrounding territory seemed to have heard of the gathering. Men stood in clusters here and there talking quietly among themselves. One pair stood alone at the edge of the crowd. The others kept glancing their way speculatively, but no one disturbed their solitude as they stood stoically, looking expectantly toward the camp of Naaman. These two were the brothers of Ophiram and Manoah, Benjamin and Jesse. Manoah had sent a messenger to them, telling of Ophiram's surprising action and the meeting scheduled for the evening. They knew no more than the others, but they weren't about to allow their ignorance to be known.

When Manoah and Ophiram walked toward the group with Naaman, the two went to meet them. After the kiss of welcome was given all around, they conferred briefly before continuing on to the front of the crowd. The five stood side by side, presenting a unified front for all to see. Shortly thereafter, Nemuel arrived and the meeting commenced. After formal greetings and a statement of the purpose of the assembly, Nemuel turned to Naaman.

"If I understand correctly," he said, "you wish to claim Nahbi's land for your slave girl, Baara, appealing to the custom established by Moses when he granted Mahlah the right to inherit her father's land. Have you any proof that Baara is the daughter of Nahbi?"

"Only her word and mine," Naaman replied quietly but forcefully.

Smiling, Nemuel answered, "I hope you take no offense when I say that is a fairly flimsy claim," but his smile did nothing to lessen the venom behind his words. "You are a confessed enemy of Israel; if not presently, then in the recent past. She is a slave who may or may not have been defiled by your men and brainwashed by your culture. She could easily be an opportunist come to take advantage of a people with lenient laws more favorable to women than those of most societies."

"And how would she have known to make such a specific claim?" Naaman asked. "You told me to come prepared to represent her and I have. Ask me questions about the land she claims. Ask about her family. If she has not told me the answers already, I am prepared to have her come and testify on her own behalf."

Gesturing to a group of men who stood in the distance aloof from the crowd, he gave a signal. The men parted to reveal the slight, veiled figure standing in their midst. Closing ranks around her, they kept her far enough from the crowd that she was not a part of the gathering, but close enough to summon if necessary. They formed a human wall around the girl, making it impossible for her to see or understand the proceedings.

As the crowd murmured at this unexpected and unconventional development, Nemuel clapped his hands for silence.

"This is most extraordinary," he blustered. "But then this whole situation is somewhat bizarre. I did not mean to anger you, Naaman. I was only telling you how things stand. Surely you understand our hesitance to merely grant the claim without investigation."

"Of course I understand," he replied calmly. "That is why I have Baara nearby, just in case I do not know the answers to any personal questions you might ask. The girl has the memories of her father's holdings. Her mind houses the particulars about her family. I have questioned her concerning these things, but I had no list of questions from which to work. I knew I could not anticipate all of the possible questions you could ask. I am prepared to defend Baara's claim. If you ask questions I cannot answer, then I will confer with Baara to find out the proper response."

"Very well," Nemuel conceded. Then turning to those gathered he asked, "Does anyone here have questions they wish to put to Naaman?"

A man stepped forward. "What kinds of buildings were on Nahbi's land?"

"There was a one room family dwelling with a small room on the roof. Nahbi added the upper room the year of the raid. He planned to hire someone to help with his growing herds. He and his son, Hanameel, were having trouble handling the herds alone. There was also a makeshift enclosure with a roof and no sides that was used to house the occasional cow that birthed their young during the rainy season. A milk cow and a few chickens also sheltered under this makeshift stable."

"So Nahbi was a cattle farmer?" another man in the crowd asked.

"Not primarily," Naaman responded. "He kept cattle principally to provide suitable animals for sacrifice. Many of you probably bought your sacrificial offerings from Nahbi's herds. His wife, Keturah, preferred cow milk to goat milk and so he kept a milk cow in the stable. He had only increased his herd of cattle in the years after Hanameel attained his manhood. The animals he kept for personal use were mainly sheep and goats. Hanameel herded the two together, leaving Nahbi free to concentrate on the cattle. But, as I said, the flocks and herds had grown under the care of the two, and Nahbi planned to hire help."

At this one man said, "I have heard enough, Nemuel. He could not possibly have garnered these details in preparation for a raid. I believe the girl is Nahbi's daughter."

As many in the crowd began to murmur their agreement, Nemuel called out. "If anyone disputes this claim, now is the time to step forward."

A dark, short man stepped forward. "I am Bunah, brother of Keturah. I live over a day's journey from here. I just happened to come into Kedesh yesterday on business. I planned to complete my business today and begin my journey home. When I heard rumors of the meeting here tonight and the reason it was called, I stayed." Addressing Naaman, he noted, "These things you say are true. I do not dispute them. But I have a question that can only be answered by someone who was at the house that day. I stopped by the holding on my way to Kedesh the morning prior to the raid. What was my sister doing when I arrived and what song was she singing?"

A hush fell over the crowd. They expected Naaman to turn and walk over to the men who still surrounded the girl. Instead he faced Bunah and replied, "I do not know what activity your sister was engaged in when you arrived. But I do know the song she was singing." To everyone's surprise, Naaman began to sing in a full, melodious baritone a familiar psalm written by King David. As tears fell from Bunah's eyes, Naaman sang the shepherd psalm completely through. As the final notes faded into the sunset, the Armenian said softly to Bunah, "I am sorry to reawaken your grief. I know this is the song your sister sang because Baara told us after something, or someone, hummed it to my wife when she was caught in the throes of a debilitating headache. When my wife questioned Baara about the song she had hummed to soothe her head and help her sleep, Baara denied having hummed any song. My wife hummed for Baara the melody that had haunted her sleep. The girl's eyes filled with tears as she gasped, 'I know I did not sing that song to you, mistress. It was my mother's favorite psalm. She was singing it the day of the raid. I have not sung that song once since that day. It is too painful a reminder.' Only after Baara sang the song for Maacah did her grief begin to lessen and her soul to mend. She taught it to me much later when I asked her to teach me the traditions of Yahweh. She has taught me many psalms, proverbs, and stories, but this one will always be my favorite. Baara said she thought an angel hummed the song to my wife. Maacah thought perhaps the spirit of Keturah hummed the melody so that Baara would gain comfort from the words and know her mother was with Yahweh in the afterlife."

To everyone's amazement, Bunah embraced Naaman, giving him the kiss of friendship first on the right cheek and then on the left, as is the custom when friends greet one another in public. He then said, "Peace be on you, Naaman."

Naaman answered, "And peace on you," before kissing Bunah in the same manner.

Turning to Nemuel, Bunah said, "I do not contest the claim Naaman makes for his slave girl." Then turning to Naaman, he asked, "Could I presume upon your hospitality for the night? I would very much like to meet with my niece and talk to her. I did not see her as often as I would have liked, but I am certain she will remember her Uncle Bunah with kindness."

As some of the crowd began to move away, satisfied that Baara was the daughter of Nahbi, Nemuel asked once more if anyone contested the claim. No one even bothered to answer. It was obvious; a consensus had been reached.

Stepping forward, Manoah called, "Wait." As the milling crowd turned toward him, he said, "In a fortnight, my bother Ophiram will wed Baara. Naaman has asked to be allowed to help finance the wedding and we agreed to extend an invitation to anyone who chose to attend these proceedings. Three days from now, my bothers and I will help Ophiram to clear Nahbi's land and erect a dwelling. Anyone who can take time away from their chores is invited to help with the construction."

As the men left, many shouted to Manoah that they would do their best to help with Ophiram's hut. Others asked good-naturedly if they would have plenty of wine at the wedding. A few teased Ophiram about being so desperate for a wife that he had to purchase a slave in order to get a woman. The four laughed with their neighbors and then headed for home to impart the startling news to their mother. None of the boys had told her or their wives of the meeting or Ophiram's astonishing announcement.

Turning to Bunah, Naaman said, "I signaled my men to take Baara home after you indicated your acceptance of the claim. They were supposed to keep her surrounded so she could not see the proceedings and far enough away so that she could not understand the words spoken. If they succeeded, she will not know of your appearance at the meeting. If you like, I will have my wife prepare her for your presence and then we will leave the two of you alone to get reacquainted."

As the two neared the camp, they saw the slight form of Baara standing between the tents shading her eyes as she peered westward toward the city. Seeing the two, she gathered her skirts into her hand and began to run toward the men.

Chuckling, Naaman said, "Evidently my men were unable to keep everything from her sharp ears. I believe the girl is anxious to greet her Uncle Bunah."

As Baara neared, she began to slow her pace, uncertain as to the proper decorum when greeting a long-lost uncle. But Bunah did not hesitate. Throwing his arms wide, he welcomed his niece with a bear hug.

Naaman escorted the two to the entertainment tent where they could talk and dine together. He also instructed Bunah to lay out his bedroll there for the night. As they talked, Baara told Bunah of the terrible night when her family was killed, and she was taken into slavery. She told of the nightmares and the dream from Yahweh that explained how God had used Naaman to complete His purpose in Baara's life. She shared with him her assurance that the killings had not been a result of sin, but were simply evil perpetuated in this world. She told him how her faith was essentially reborn and how the shepherd psalm had been a part of the healing of her soul. She recounted the story of Naaman's illness and conversion, explaining that while the soldiers had meant their capture of her for evil, God had intended it for good. Just as he had used Joseph in captivity, He used her meager efforts in Damascus.

"Don't get me wrong, uncle," she concluded. "I am not a great person without sin or flaw. I have no idea why God chose to act as He did in my life. But He made something evil into something good for His kingdom. With that I am content."

"Ah, Baara," Bunah sighed. "You have grown in more ways than one since your capture. I think your spiritual growth was possible because of the nature of my sister Keturah. She hadn't a hateful bone in her body. She was tender with everyone. I think that nature grew out of her spiritual hunger. She loved to listen to the stories of our tradition. She used to tell me she wished she were a boy so she could sit at the feet of the religious leaders and learn more. I'm afraid she listened more carefully to the religious teachings father gave us boys than I did. Whenever possible, she did chores near where we received instruction so she could eavesdrop on our lessons. Many of the proverbs and psalms she shared with you were not a part of the religious training of women. Women know the stories, but not always the rest."

After pausing for a moment and examining his niece's face, Bunah broke the companionable silence. "You look very much like your mother, you know. You have the same expressive face. Your eyes are like dark pools; they reflect everything you feel just like hers did." Then leaning forward, he asked, "Did Katurah ever tell you how she picked your name?"

"No," the girl admitted. "Father would sometimes fuss at me telling me I was living up to my name when I would do something unthinking. At those times, he would look pointedly at mother, who would just say tranquilly, 'Leave the child alone, Nahbi. You know I had my reasons for requesting this name. Give her a chance to grow up and learn from her mistakes. I will explain everything to her when the time is right. Perhaps when it is time for her to wed.' I guess the time was never right, and she didn't live to see my wedding day."

"Well, I was privy to the story. There was actually some debate over the naming. Your father wanted to name you something more uplifting, but he had a weakness when it came to Keturah and he acquiesced to her wishes. She was determined to name you Baara so you would be a constant reminder to her family of Yahweh's superiority over false gods. You see, my brother married Athaliah, the daughter of a Phoenician from Tyre. She worshipped Baal and brought her idols with her into the family home. Before Keturah married, she was always trying to convince Athaliah that to worship Baal was foolishness, pure folly. Athaliah just laughed at Keturah."

"Athaliah had two daughters before Keturah married Nahbi and moved away, but she had no sons. Keturah got pregnant shortly after she married. She and Athaliah were pregnant at the same time and both gave birth to healthy children. Keturah had your brother while Athaliah birthed another girl. Then both had no more children for many years. Athaliah knew Ketruah prayed for a child and tortured her by calling Yahweh an impotent god. Finally in frustration, Keturah challenged Athaliah to a prayer duel of sorts. Both agreed to pray to their god for a child. If Keturah conceived first, Athaliah agreed to acknowledge the power of Yahweh, but if Athaliah conceived first, Keturah agreed to stop her proselytizing efforts."

"Two days after the prayer vigil began, Athaliah discovered a blooming sprig of mandrake, also known as Baaras, growing near our home. She plucked the plant and went to Keturah. She told her that while the plant leaves were used by some to entice a man, it was also believed that the crushed flower helped with conception. She planned to make a drink from the crushed flower. She claimed Baal had led her to the plant. Keturah told her that the properties of the plant were mere superstition. She pointed out that the root of the plant was poisonous and claimed Yahweh would not give a potentially lethal plant the power to create life. But I think Keturah secretly worried. She knew of Israelite women who used mandrake to enhance conception. She knew that wine has medicinal purposes, but used in excess can poison a man's system. She knew men often corrupted what God intended for good. She redoubled her prayer efforts. God heard and answered Keturah's prayers. She conceived; Athaliah did not."

"You were the result of that conception. When you were born Keturah insisted on naming you Baara. The name had a triple meaning. One interpretation is foolish. By naming you Baara, Keturah reminded Athaliah of her foolishness in putting faith in Baal and Baaras, a plant made by the Creator with power imbued only by Him. The pun on the plant name was the second subtlety planned by Keturah when she named you. The third rendering of your name is "Baal has seen." Keturah wanted to remind everyone that Baal had seen Yahweh triumph over him. By being a witness in Damascus you were fulfilling the intent of your name. You were proving once again the superiority of Yahweh to false idols made of clay," Bunah concluded.

"Did Athaliah become a believer?" Baara questioned. "Did she ever conceive a son?"

"Yes, on both counts," Bunah answered. "After your birth, Athaliah went to visit Keturah. She told her she had used all her mandrake, but to no avail. She asked Keturah to pray that she would conceive a son. She told her that while she believed Yahweh had power, as a foreigner she could not appropriate that power. Keturah assured her she could. She told her that all she had to do was renounce Baal and embrace Yahweh. Athaliah told Keturah she wanted to but didn't have enough faith. She told her she would stop praying to Baal for two months while Keturah prayed. If during that time she conceived, she promised to abandon worship of Baal until the child was born. If the child proved to be a male child, she swore she would destroy her idols and worship Yahweh only. She did conceive and give birth to a son. She brought her idols to my brother and watched while he pounded them into powder and sprinkled the powder over the altar of Yahweh as her sacrificial offering on the naming day of their son, Emmanuel, meaning God is with us."

Smiling, Baara said, "I think God was with you yesterday. He brought you to Kedesh on the very day when my petition would be presented. I remember you dropping by the farm occasionally on the way to market. You always took time with me. When I was small, I remember sitting on your knee and listening to you tell stories. But I don't remember visits with my grandparents, or even other aunts and uncles. Why is that?" Baara queried.

"My parents were very old when Keturah was born," Bunah admitted. "They died before you were born. My sisters married men from away and rarely made the trip back. Athaliah and Pallu visited when you were young. But when Emmanuel was four, Athaliah died giving birth to their second son. He was still born. After that Pallu became a recluse. He poured his life into his business and taught his son to do the same. For them business became the focus of life. Their aim has been to amass a fortune. He is a cloth merchant. Part of the reason he married Athaliah was to gain the secret to a distinctive purple dye he wanted to use on some of his merchandise. Even though the marriage was one of convenience, he came to love Athaliah. I think he blamed God when she died. His anger fueled his business endeavors. He became a driven man who didn't have time for the frivolity of visiting family. He tried to get me to invest in his business, but I preferred to live on the family land, raise goats and make cheese. I sell my cheese throughout the area. That is why I was in Kedesh. Cheese is not as lucrative as cloth. But I must admit I am not as focused as Pallu, either. I suppose I could build a huge trading business, but I prefer the simple life. I like living on a farm with my goats for company. They are more like pets than business investments. Pallu wants me to breed them with other flocks. He thinks I should enlarge the flock and try to create different tasting cheeses. But I am content with my unhurried life."

"What about children?" Baara asked. "Do you have any?"

Laughing, Bunah said, "None that I dare claim, niece. I never married. I am an old bachelor."

"Oh," said Baara coloring. "I'm sorry. I didn't know. Why is that?"

"I was betrothed once," he said with a far away look in his eye. "Her name was Bithiah. Her mother was an Egyptian married to a descendent of Abraham. Her family lived just north of the border near Kadesh Barnea. My father met her father during one of his merchant trips to the south, and he promised me to her. When she was old enough and the betrothal was formalized, she came to live with us for the year between the betrothal and the marriage feast. Such an arrangement is customary when the bride is from a distant tribe. It gives the family time to get to know her and be certain she can fit into the household. During that time the betrothed co-exist as man and wife under a binding covenant. The marriage ceremony is performed after the year is up. If during the year the woman does not conceive, the bridegroom has the right, but not an obligation, to break the betrothal covenant. The covenant can also be broken if the woman cannot adjust to her new family, but only the patriarch of the family in consultation with the groom can make that decision. There would have to be an extreme problem involving blatant disrespect for this to happen."

"Anyway, enough of a lesson on the legalities of a betrothal. No problems arose concerning Bithiah's conduct. She was the model wife and daughter-in-law. We all loved her. She was like a ray of sunshine. She laughed easily. She played games with my young nieces. She waited on my mother. A month before we were to wed, she told me she thought she was pregnant, but she wanted to wait until she was absolutely certain before we told my family. Then a week later a strange sickness descended on our household. Many of us ran high fever. We ached all over; our eyes clogged at night with green mucus; we developed deep coughs. Most of us were extremely ill for a week. Everyone recovered except for Bithiah. Her cough would not go away. Her fever continued to rise. After fighting the disease for ten days, she died."

Bunah's eyes had a distant feverish look as he concluded, "Part of my heart died with Bithiah. I refused to allow my father to arrange another marriage. I still grieve for the ray of sunshine that brightened my life for almost a year. It would not be fair to ask another woman to live with that ghostly perfection. So, I remain a bachelor."

Reaching out her hand and patting her uncle solicitously, Baara said, "I am sorry you feel that way Uncle Bunah. I know you would have made a good father and husband. Perhaps Yahweh will still heal your grief and allow you to love again."

"I don't think so, child," Bunah answered. "I would have to want to heal. I am not willing to give up the memory of Bithiah."

"Some families seem to have more than their share of sorrow," Baara said quietly. "I guess you, Pallu and Emmanuel are all the blood family I have now. I know my father's family was wiped out by disease when he was still a young man. That is why no one but our small family lived on our land. I hope the three of you will come to the wedding. Manoah, Ophiram and Naaman decided to forego the traditional betrothal period so Naaman and Maacah could be present for the wedding. The betrothal will be formalized the day after tomorrow with only Ophiram's immediate family and Naaman and Maacah present. Can you stay?" Baara asked. "It would be nice to have a blood relative present as well as those who have stood in as surrogate parents since my capture."

"I would be honored," Bunah replied. "Only my goats await my return. My goatherd is a full time employee. He knows to expect me only when he can see the whites of my eyes. Yes, niece, I would like to stay, if it is not an imposition on Naaman."