After filling the water skins, I hurried to dress for the night's festivities. Normally I would not be present at such an affair. The men usually dined in Papa's tent with their male guests. They were attended by the servants. Because of the luxury of separate tents, I was normally even denied the pleasure of eavesdropping from the inner chamber.

Tonight, though, Mama, Aunt Rachel and I would serve in the place of the servants. This was the only acceptable way for the Princes to meet the female members of the family. Our service would also be a tribute to the importance of the guests. I understood that the women of some tribes danced for the entertainment of the male guests. This had never been true of our family.

The women danced during celebrations, but not to please guests. Our dances were dedicated to Yahweh as a form of worship. Women also sometimes danced in a private setting for their husbands. This, of course, I had never experienced.

Because of the prominence of our visitors, we would wear our only silken robes over our dresses. These were saved for special occasions, and I had never worn the one given me by Grandpa Laban when I became a woman. Wishing I had a dress of similar material, I caressed the soft cloth I loved.

I sighed as I looked down at the finery covering my coarse brown dress. I felt like a pig dressed in a doll gown. The luxurious robe did not adequately disguise the dress underneath. Making a face, I resignedly began to brush my hair, quickly braiding it to fall down my back.

The braid was more for comfort than for vanity. With my veil and headpiece, no one would know whether my hair was braided or even if I were bald. I wished that I could put on some perfume and eye paint. I had some hidden among my treasures, but knew better than to do anything so bold. Even Papa would banish me from the banquet.

Papa's best leather rug had been spread on the tent floor as the serving table. My brothers, Zilpah's and Bildah's adult sons, and the Princes would sit with Papa around the rug. The serving dishes would be in the center. The men would use their bread to scoop the other dishes to their mouths.

Aunt Rachel, Mother and I were each assigned men to attend. We would be present to wash their feet, annoint their heads and wash their hands before and after the meal. During the meal, we would stand in the background prepared to grant any request made by the guests and replenish their cups with milk or water as needed.

As senior wife, Mother would normally be responsible for Papa, his two oldest sons and the two elder princes, but Aunt Rachel had been given this assignment because Papa favored her. Mama had accepted the disgrace of being overlooked without flinching or arguing.

I felt my always smoldering anger rise, but refrained from a typical outburst for fear of being relieved of my position at the feast. Mama would serve the middle four of Papa's sons and the two middle Princes. I would serve Papa's four youngest sons and the youngest Prince.

My normal excitement at attending such a momentous occasion was further fueled by the knowledge that the Prince I would be serving was Shem, the one I had nearly encountered at the well. The handsome face imprinted on my memory could be compared at close range to the real thing. I was sure that my imagination had enhanced his natural beauty and that I would be disappointed when confronted with the actual young man.

Mama and Aunt Rachel had been overseeing the meal preparation all day while I hauled water. The tempting aromas rising from the ovens in front of the tents made my stomach wrench. Mama gave me a piece of bread and reminded me that it would never do for my stomach to make unseemly noises while serving.

Customarily, the women did not eat until the men were finished. The bread was an exception made to avoid embarrassment during the feast. Until the men's appetites were sated, I would not be allowed to taste the delicious and rarely prepared venison and quail roasting over the fires.

Normally we would have killed the fatted calf for such an event, but because we had been traveling for so long, we had no such animal ready for slaughter. To compensate the men had hunted the previous afternoon, providing us with fresh meat to take the place of the customary veal.

The meat would be accompanied by the thin bread and a vinegar dip present at all meals. Also available would be beans and lentils, our best olives, cheeses and raisins. A honey and grape juice type of molasses would be served to provide sweetness, while leben, a staple made by souring milk with yeast, would provide a contrasting taste. I had helped Mama to make the leben yesterday by adding the yeast to milk, leaving it to sit in vats for a day. It should be best at about the dinner hour. Just thinking about the meal made my mouth water and my nearly empty stomach churn.

Everything was ready, and a servant was dispatched to Shechem to announce that the meal was prepared. I waited demurely inside the doorway of the tent for the guests to arrive. Before long they approached and were brought directly to the tent where Jacob waited without. We were inside the tent, which was lit with several lamps. The sides were raised for comfort allowing us to watch the meeting. The descending dusk made it difficult to distinguish faces, but I had the distinct feeling that I was being watched. Standing in the lamplight, I'm sure that I was easily discerned by anyone interested.

Jacob and Haran, the eldest Prince, bowed slightly to one another, touching their heart, mouth and forehead in quick succession. I noted with interest that their greeting was the same as ours and undoubtedly had a similar meaning: "My heart, my voice and my intellect are at your service." Then with dignity, Jacob intoned, "My peace be to you."

Haran replied with the customary, "And on you peace." Followed by, "I regret that my second brother is unable to attend. A lion has attacked our flocks and he is standing guard at the pool. We hope to catch the predator when he comes for water."

Papa acknowledged the Prince's absence with regret, but noted that his current mission was more important than partaking of our hospitality. Hearing this, I remembered the noise the previous evening as I left the pool. I was relieved both that the vigil was taking place tonight and not the previous night, and that we had left before what might have been a lion appeared on the scene.

My skin prickly, I watched the kiss of friendship being given all around. The scene became a bedlam of men embracing and kissing one another on both cheeks while wishing one another peace. Eventually they sorted themselves out, Jacob's sons leading the appropriate Prince to the designated place where we waited to wash their now bare feet.

When the bantering young men stopped by the copper bowl to have their feet washed, I knelt without raising my eyes to meet those of the young Prince. To have looked at him would have been forward, but even if that were not the case, I would have been unable to look at him without blushing.

I slowly poured water over Shem's extended foot, and then began to rub it quickly with my hands before drying it with a napkin. Much to my surprise, I felt a slight shock go through my body when I touched his foot. Involuntarily I flinched withdrawing my hands briefly.

Quickly recovering, I continued to wash his feet, but in my mind I could see those sardonic eyes mocking my momentary discomposure. Fortunately no one seemed to have noticed and I managed to finish the Prince and my four brothers without further problems.

After all were seated, we anointed their heads with oil, a task I completed without embarrassment. However, when we took around the bowls so that we could pour water over their hands for cleansing, I made a mistake that disconcerted my whole family. When I approached Shem carrying the bowl over which he would hold his hands while I poured water from a small pitcher, he reached up to take the bowl from me.

When he took it, his hands brushed my fingers while his wicked eyes laughed directly into mine. My astonishment and discomfort was so great that I dropped the pitcher directly in his lap. Begging forgiveness, I tried to wipe the water from his robe with my napkin, simply causing myself further embarrassment.

Papa immediately intervened stating, "Please accept my humble apology on my daughter's behalf. In your honor, I requested my wives and daughter to serve, but perhaps Dinah is still too young and inexperienced. I will replace her immediately."

Risking being thought rude, Shem interrupted quickly, "Please, sir, do not punish her. It was as much my fault for attempting to take the bowl rather than waiting for her to place it on the table." Smiling in my direction he continued, "I have a sister near her age. I know she would be gravely disappointed if denied the chance to redeem herself in such a situation."

Bowing slightly in his direction, Father replied, "You are most gracious. Let it be as you wish. My house is yours. A servant will give you a fresh set of clothes in which to dine. Keep them with my regrets for the inconvenience."

Shortly after this exchange, the servants brought in the platters and dishes of food. As the meal progressed, I was extremely careful when filling Shem's cup. Once he caught my eye, smiled encouragingly and whispered, "You're doing great." My opinion of him as a hopeless rogue was gradually changing as the evening lengthened.

I listened unobtrusively to the conversation as I waited near the table. I learned a great deal about the handsome young Prince. He enjoyed the hunt, evidently being proficient with both the bow and sling. He and my brothers swapped hunting stories, each trying to top the other and in the process embellishing the truth.

Shem supervised his father's flocks of sheep and goats, but being an heir, his duties were to oversee the shepherds, not to actually do the labor himself. He also spoke of traveling to his father's vineyards a day's journey away. His education not only included these practical everyday matters, but also the memorization of his family history and religious beliefs.

I was mildly disappointed when the talk turned from trivial personal matters to the business of the land purchase. But I listened with interest to the haggling that led to the price of a hundred kesitahs for the land on which our tents were pitched. I knew the women bartered with the sellers before making payment for purchases, but I hadn't realized that such large purchases were also subject to friendly dispute.

Before making payment, Papa made certain that we would be free to erect an altar to Yahweh. Prince Haran indicated that they were tolerant of any gods we wished to worship. He even expressed an interest in learning more about Yahweh and His worship.

Much to my surprise, Papa invited him and his brothers to attend the celebration and worship experience that would be held in thanksgiving for the purchase of land. It was unusual for strangers or uncircumcised men to be present at such events. Haran accepted on behalf of himself and his brothers. Papa indicated that a servant would be sent two nights hence to announce the beginning of the celebration.

Now that all had eaten their fill and business had been completed, we brought out the bowls and pitchers and cleansed the men's hands once more. The servants removed the food, and we withdrew. Aunt Rachel offered to let Mama and me come to her tent to dine since there were fewer children to disturb in her inner chamber.

To my delight, Mama assented. I rarely entered Aunt Rachel's tent, but loved to go there. She had the finest rugs and curtains. She kept several camel saddles for stools, something that Mama considered a nuisance, a cause for accidents when boisterous youngsters ran through the front chamber. Envious of her daintily designed pottery, soft rugs and brightly patterned curtains, I determined to find a husband who would hold me in the high esteem Papa held Aunt Rachel.

My musings as I sat on a fine leather table were ended by servants entering with platters of food. After the servants had been dismissed, Mama's and Aunt Rachel's conversation turned to the Princes. I sat mutely listening, hoping that they would not suddenly remember my presence and end the discussion.

Much to my amazement, Aunt Rachel turned and asked me teasingly, "Don't you agree that they were a comely lot. It's too bad they are pagans; I'm sure one would otherwise make a suitable husband. If they were marriageable, which would be your choice?"

I felt my face turn red as I realized that I had been unaware of the other princes; all my attention had been concentrated on Shem. I knew Aunt Rachel could not hear my thoughts, but I was self-conscious even at the prospect. As I sought a way to answer without revealing my feelings, Mama interrupted, "Rachel, don't encourage something that can never be. She has enough rebellious thoughts without your help."

"Oh, Leah, don't be such a prig. When we were girls, you daydreamed about a possible beaux and it never hurt you," she replied indignantly.

"I know, " Mama sighed, "but it didn't help me adjust to my actual situation either. I know Papa felt he was doing me a favor by marrying me to Jacob. In my dreams I thought I could make him love me a little. If I had not been carried away by childish fancies, I might have tried to dissuade Papa. I don't want my daughter blinded by impossible fantasies."

Aunt Rachel arose and knelt beside Mama saying softly, "I am so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I thought the bitterness had been buried long ago."

"I do not blame you, Rachel. You did that which was natural; you returned the love of a desirable young man," Mama stated. "Most of the time I am at peace, but my lot is not what I desire for my daughter. I want her to see life as it really is, not through the rosy glow of a daydream. If I can do better for her, I will. If I cannot, she will not go into marriage as a lesser wife expecting more than the crumbs of someone else's love." That exchange ended the gaiety of the meal, and soon we retired,

As we passed Papa's tent, I noted that the Princes were still enjoying our hospitality. I was sure that it would be late when they left. Feasts rarely ended at a reasonable hour and guests were encouraged to stay as long as they desired.

Stretching out on my sleeping mat, I listened to the sounds of camaraderie coming from Papa's tent. I could not stop myself from thinking that now that Papa knew these others, he might consider allowing me to marry someone other than a kinsman. I reviewed carefully what Mama had said to Aunt Rachel. Intellectually I knew she was right, but emotionally I found it difficult to follow her advice.

I drifted into a restless sleep in which I married a handsome Prince, only to find he was an ogre in disguise. Awakening in a cold sweat, I resolved again to avoid the mistakes of my mother's life. If Aunt Rachel could find a loving husband, I should be able to do the same. I refused to allow Mama's bitterness to poison my outlook on life.