Gate of the Friend

#2 of An Ancient Series.

Wedged shapes formed the high arches of Jaffa Gate. The magnificent portal had welcomed weary travelers for so long. Sure, there were other access gates into Jerusalem proper but this was one of my favorites. The Arabic name under which I passed was Bab el-Khalil. It was in reference to our shared father Abraham. The lilting phrase translated wonderfully into, “Gate of the Friend.” Maybe that’s why I felt known and wanted as I passed through its short-lived shadow.

Tall and masculine, the quarried blocks twenty feet above appeared to defy gravity. I slowed. My diminished pace allowed time to touch the anchoring corner with my right hand as I continued looking up at the masonry’s apex. It was dimly cool and smelled of ancient days. A sandy rectangle block looked down and smiled. He tenderly mouthed in a voice known only to me,

”Hello child, welcome in.”

Safely inside the gate, I could still feel the entrance stone’s protective gaze on the back of my neck. But it didn’t take long to disappear from his view, still, I was secure inside the city walls.