She is Ruth...

my
daughter-in-law
is so young

she is just a girl
herself,
and
yet she wants to
stay with me,
to follow me,
to
care for me.

"entreat me not
to leave thee..." she
weeps.

"to not leave me?'
I say, stunned
by her
desire...and her
defiance
of
custom and common sense...

she doesn't want to
leave me...

me,
a widow
with
no more sons
to marry

even if I were to
bring another son
into the world,
she would be an old
woman...like me...
by the time he is
a man

no,
she should
go to her
own mother's house and
find a boy from
her own tribe
one who will understand
her language
her customs
her practices
her gods...

but she doesn't
want to return
to her mother
her father
her kin
their gods

she wants to
follow me,
to be with me,
to care for me,
to be with my people
to follow my God.

to be a stranger
in a strange land...

"Whither thou goest
I will go...thy people will
be my people now,
and thy God will be
my God..."
she says with all
the solemnity
of an altar vow...

This is the love that
is more than
ten sons,

this is the gift that is
more than riches, and
silks, and orchards,
and wells,
and flocks and herds

This is the love of a
devoted daughter...
this is the love of loves,
this is the love 
that is sent from a God who
sees me as His beloved,
and has sent me
what I need
most...
someone
to
love...

I am  still strong.
I can
carry water
and plant
and glean and
harvest and
bake...but
without
someone to
love
what would it
matter...

yes,
she is better
than
ten sons...
she is
not just
"his wife,"

she is
Ruth,
my daughter.