Family History

by Suzanne Sadowsky

Arise, lift up the youth and grasp your hand upon him, for I will make a great nation of him. —Genesis 21:18

Do you remember me?
I've been away a long time, my sister,
I've seen other lands, other worlds.
You stayed here, remained here, close to our land
Where we once lived together,
Where you were my handmaiden.

In the lands where I have been
There are also handmaidens who bear children for the barren women.
They have learned the lesson of Hagar and they expect nothing more.

I've seen you walking,
Walking here with your children.
Do you live in the next village?
May I walk along with you?
I am also going to the market.

We are cousins, you and I,
Daughters of Isaac and Ishmael, the sons of Abraham.
Do you remember them?
Do remember Isaac?
The son of Sarah, my grandmother.
She was ancient and very beautiful.
It was a very long time ago.

Your grandmother Hagar was younger than Sarah.
It is said that she was also beautiful,
Younger and not so beautiful as Sarah.
She was Sarah's handmaiden.
And it is said she was the daughter of Pharaoh.
My mother told me about her;
It was a long time ago.

Each year at the end of summer at the New Moon of Tishri
Right before the harvest festival, the story of Sarah and Hagar is told.
Of Hagar and Sarah and Isaac and Ishmael,
And I tell the story to my daughter
Every year before the Harvest Festival.

Hagar and Ishmael
Were banished to the desert. They were parched
But God came to them and gave them water.
And they lived and stayed on this land.
And you and all the sons and daughters of Ishmael
Survived here, in this land where
You and I once lived together.
We were cousins and you were my handmaiden.
Do you remember? May I stay a while and walk with you?

Abraham sent them away for Sarah's sake,
She was very old and she was afraid for Isaac,
he was a docile boy.
She named him Laughter.
Ishmael was older and wild,
he taunted Isaac and the brothers fought.
Isaac was docile and Sarah was afraid for him.
That is the story my mother told me.

I come in peace, my sister. We have no time left for fighting—
Let's tell the old men that they cannot take our sons;
Let the old men fight their own battles.
Let them go to the killing fields alone — not with the children.

I know you too must be afraid.
Afraid that you will be alone.
That your husband will take your children.
Don't be afraid. They are already taking our children.
If we can speak in one voice, you and I and our sisters with us,
The old men will hear us.
They will not be able to turn away.

We've walked a long way. This is my house. Come in.
Can we sit down together and have a cup of tea?
Don't be afraid. No one will know.
They will only think that it is just two women gossiping.
Take off your black veil— let me see your face. Can we be friends?
Tell me, how is your cousin in California?

We journeyed to the four corners of the earth
And learned all the languages of the nations.
I remained with the sons of Joseph and his brothers.
There were twelve tribes.
We sojourned in Egypt and then in Canaan
And we've been travelling for such a long time,
And I'm finally home.
May I stay a while?

Did you know of Ruth the Moabite?
She was a Moabite— one of your cousins.
But she left your people and came with the Israelites.
Our King David came from her line.

It is an irony: Your grandmother Hagar was the one who was banished,
Yet it is the daughters of Sarah that have been wandering.
All these years we have been travelling
From place to place, from country to country.
And now I am tired; shall we sit down?
Perhaps we can rest a while and have a cup of tea.
I've been travelling for such a long time.

—from our October 2001 Newsletter

(Note: I read this prose-poem at our Rosh Hashanah service this year, and was asked to have it included in this month's Newsletter. —SS)

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