"Aharon! Aha-a-a-aron!"
Eight-year-old Miryam stood outside the square, brown house, her hand shielding her eyes from the hot glare of the sun. She shifted her bare feet in the burning sand and sighed.
Where WAS her little brother? Should she climb up to the flat roof and look out from there? No. It was too hot. Anyway, he was probably playing with his friend Shem among the goats and hens in Shem's backyard. She supposed she'd have to go and get him. Such a nuisance, with Imah lying sick inside. Well, not sick, exactly. She was about to have another baby and Miryam was on her way to call the midwife. She had wanted to find little 3 year-old Aharon first. She trudged down the sandy path towards Shem's house, a deep frown creasing her forehead. Miryam was young, but already she knew about being responsible.
Right now, Miryam was terribly worried. She and her people, the Hebrew nation, lived in Goshen, a part of the land of Egypt. They were the slaves of the Egyptian people, and very cruelly treated by them. The King of Egypt, who hated the Hebrews, had recently made a new law about Hebrew babies. The midwives could allow all the baby girls to live, but they had to kill the baby boys as soon as they were born. The king was afraid that the Hebrew nation would become stronger than the Egyptians and conquer them in a war. So he thought that if all the Hebrew boys were killed, the nation would die out.
Miryam knew that most of the midwives were disobeying the king. Because they feared the LORD God of the Hebrews, they refused to kill the newborn babies. When the king wanted to know why there were still so many little Hebrew boys around, the midwives said:
"O King, the Hebrew women give birth to their babies so quickly, before we can get to them. By the time we get there, it is too late."
And because they did this, allowing the baby boys to live, the LORD blessed them.
Still, Miryam was troubled. She hoped she could find an older midwife -someone like Shifra. She had heard the women talking and it was said that the younger midwives were rather too eager to please the king. Of course, Imah might have a little girl - that would be alright. Miryam rather hoped so. One little brother was enough to look after!
"Aharon! Aha-a-a-aron!"
