Late at night, the sixth of the month of Sivan, 2368 from creation. The moonlight had faded, a few stars were visible in the sky, twinkling like small, precious diamonds. A soft breeze was blowing, stirring up clouds of dust and sand in its wake, moving the oppressive heat from one place to the next. Rows of wood and straw-constructed houses were still. Silence prevailed in the streets of the Levite village. The Egyptian police was patrolling the streets, listening at the doors of the homes, trying to discern the sounds of crying babies and pregnant women in distress.
“Fire! Fire! Help! A fire broke out in the house! Help! Fire! Fire!” Cries of despair burst forth from the mouths of a man and his wife, stirring the still village. Flames were rising above a small house on the village’s edge. Men woke up from their sleep, running to help their brothers in danger. The police officers also ran to see the frantic scene of Jews trying to save their homes and children. Men were holding pitchers of water, running back and forth to extinguish the fire.
“Come quick! The fire could spread and destroy the whole vil¬lage!” Amram screamed, spurring the men to action.
“Please save us! Help us!” Yelled Yocheved to the police officers. “Our children are in the house! Please, don’t just stand there!” The police officers laughed, as one of them pushed Yocheved with his hand, causing her to collapse to the ground. The officers were roll¬ing in laughter, enjoying the spectacle of the horror. A blinding, black smoke blanketed the entire village.
Miriam heard the cries, the strong smell of smoke reaching her nose. Quietly, she opened the door of the house. On the other side of the village, sounds of screaming and wailing were heard accom¬panying the rambunctious Egyptian laughter. She quietly went out, holding the basket they prepared for the little baby in her small arms. “Shh, quiet, Toviah, so that they don’t hear us,” she whispered to the baby, as she ran silently to the other side of the river. Her young legs, accustomed to walking the narrow trails, knew every path and passage, now walked cautiously in the dark of the night. “Angel,” she whispered to her baby brother. “The plan worked. The abandoned house that Daddy lit drew all the police officers to it. Soon we will reach…”
Anguish and sorrow flooded her heart. “Soon we will reach where?” She asked herself. “From death to death? Is there any hope?” Her legs continued in the direction her parents had mapped out for her earlier. “To where? What will happen? What should I do with the basket?” The questions overwhelmed the young girl, doubts and worries floating her young mind, attempting to dissuade her from her task. Miriam felt her usually swift legs now refusing to respond to the responsibility placed upon them, trying to stop in their tracks. Her heart, mind and entire body whispered: “You are marching your brother to certain death! Murderer! Coward!” She grew weak, fell to the ground, feeling the pain in her injured knees. Quickly, she opened the basket to make sure her baby brother was ok. The infant was asleep, a sweet smile on his tender angelic face, lighting up the darkness of the night. Miriam caressed the gentle face, feeling her soul leaving her body and bonding with that of her infant brother.
“Father said that this is the only way he can be saved! Father is righteous! If there were a better way, he would have discovered it! God won’t allow my father to fail! I must do what my father com¬manded me, even if it doesn’t seem right to me!” She said to herself, forcing herself to get up and continue to walk towards doom.
She has been walking for two hours. Her arms and shoulders ached from carrying the basket. Her legs were shaking. Tears were streaming down her face as her mouth whispered a prayer: “Please, Father in heaven, watch over my Toviah. Please, dear Father, see to it that little Toviah will not be harmed.”
The scent of the water, mixed with that of algae and reeds, wafted to her nose. She could hear the sound of the rippling, slow-flowing yet dangerous water. The horizon began to brighten, a few sunrays piercing the darkness. The tweeting of songbirds could be heard from the edge of the river. A flock of cows were drinking from the pure waters. Miriam approached the river. She sensed that her body could no longer carry itself and felt the swelled tongue in her mouth craving water. The pain in her scraped legs grew as her body sensed the clear water. Miriam persevered, ordering her body to quicken its pace.
“In a few moments the morning light will shine. We dare not be exposed and visible. Be careful, Miriam. You have an important task at hand,” she commanded herself, lifting her legs as she ran. Not too far off she could make out a cluster of tall reeds, their green color visible in the sun. “Run, Miriam, before they see you!”
Miriam ran faster, feeling the cool water kissing her legs, wet¬ting her soles, calloused from the long walk. Without thinking, she placed the small basket in the water. She quenched her thirst breath¬ing life into her aching, sore body. With her tiny hands she scooped up a bit of the chilly water and washed her young, exhausted face. She momentarily forgot where she was, her entire being reveling in the fresh life coursing through her, allowing her to forget her pain.
She heard the voice of women calling, pulling her away from her pleasure, returning her to reality. Miriam turned around to hold the basket, to hide her little brother, but the basket was gone! A slight wave had nudged the basket from its place, the current carrying it to the middle of the river, leading it into the unknown.
Miriam looked up in horror. The tiny basket, her innocent brother inside it, was being carried on the water towards a group of Egyptian women approaching the river.
