Sisters at Sinai: New Tales of Biblical Women

Miriam under the Mountain

129 Moses led the people out of the camp toward God, and they took their places at the foot of the mountain. Now Mount Sinai was all in smoke, for the Lord had come down upon it in fire, the smoke rose like the smoke of a kiln, and the whole mountain trembled violently . The blare of the horn grew louder and louder. As Moses spoke, God answered him in thunder. The Lord came down upon Mount Sinai, on the top of the mountain, and the Lord called Moses to the top of the mountain, and Moses went up. —EXODUS 19:17–20 A nd Miriam remained at the foot of the mountain. There were those among the women with her who turned their necks upward like swans to gaze at the fire, and their eyes glowed like garnets, so passionate was their desire to join with the flame. There were others among the women who hid their faces with their hair, for they were afraid to look at God. And there were some who crouched down and touched the sand beneath them, which glistened as if with tears. But Miriam fixed her eyes on the very foot of the mountain, where rough faces of stone met the sandy earth. She waited, although she did not know what she waited for. She waited and looked, looked and waited. She ran her eyes over the sharp edges of stone, gray and brown and red and blue. She MIRIAM UNDER THE MOUNTAIN k traced with her eyelashes the wriggling line of earth that ran along the foot of the mountain as if along the roots of a tree. Time passed. When a very long time had passed, Miriam saw that the lines in a jagged gray stone had formed a forehead. There was a mound of boulders that slowly became an aged cheek. Miriam looked and saw in the mountain a wrinkled brown stone like an eyelid. As Miriam watched, the eyelid opened. The stone wrinkled and lifted as if pulled by a muscle, and behind it was a door into the heart of the mountain. Miriam looked around her and saw that everything in the camp had become still. There was no bird song, no infant’s cry, no splashes of water from jugs. The women around her stood fixed, their bright eyes directed upward, or downward, or covered with curtains of hair. No one saw the door into the mountain but Miriam. She straightened her purple robe and her headdress of silver and blue. She slung her tambourine on her back and a jug of water at her waist and she went in. Inside the round tunnel there was darkness and silence. Miriam walked a long time in that tube of darkness. She thought that this must be what the world was like when Creation began: smooth and dark and narrow and round. She walked, and then, ahead of her, there was a light like the Sabbath, a golden light. After a few more steps, the tunnel opened into a cave, and the cave was filled with brightness. Miriam closed her eyes against the glare, then opened them very slowly. She saw that the light came from jewels scattered and piled across the floor of the cave and on its walls and ceilings. There were jewels of every color: pearl and sapphire blue, emerald green and rose. Each one cast its own particular variety of light. Alone, each was magnificent. Together, they were dazzling. Miriam looked more closely and saw that each jewel cast a 130 S I S T E R S A T S I N A I shadow onto the floor or onto one of its fellows. Yet the shadows were not round or faceted like the jewels. Rather, they were angular , thin and branching, and they were as black as night. She looked more closely and saw that the shadows were letters. Miriam began to string the letters together, but she did not know which letter to start with. Then Miriam turned and saw an old woman watching her, an ancient woman, with hair white as lightning and eyes gray as smoke. Miriam knew that she had seen this old woman before, but she was not sure where. Perhaps near the Nile as she laid her brother’s basket on the water. Perhaps while dancing at the shore of the Sea of Reeds. Miriam...