The woman went into labor along the road. There were complications.
“Don’t worry,” her midwife said quietly. “You are having a son.” But the midwife knew the end was close.
In the woman’s pain, and as she lay dying, she named the boy, Ben-Oni, a name some scholars translate to mean, “This Son is my Progeny.” Her husband changed the boy’s name to Benjamin, or “This Son is Strength.”
The woman’s name was Rachel. She died quietly along the road. Having seen the face of her second son, she left the world in peace. Her husband put up a stone pillar to mark the location.
The town to which they had been traveling before she died: Bethlehem. Continue reading “The Town That’s Hard to Understand”

