The twenty-first of Adar in the Year of the World 2513 started like any other day. The hot Egyptian sun shone as brightly as it always did. A slight breeze from the desert gently rustled the branches of the nearby palm trees in a very ordinary way, wafting the fair scent of flowers up to the palace window. The rest of Pharaoh Meneptah’s servants bustled about with the same somber resignation as usual. My morning chores in the royal palace passed as usual, and I detected no perceptible variation from any other day in any way. Indeed, I expected no such abnormality. It was, therefore, with no sense of anticipation or excitement that I took my post as a royal attendant at the foot of Pharaoh’s throne and awaited any orders Pharaoh might please to give me.

The morning was not half gone when all my expectations of a normal day were found to be quite erroneous. Several hours before noon, there was a stir in the entrance to the court, and two men were shown in. Even a quick glance at these men arrested my attention. Obviously, they were not Egyptians, for they wore long beards and dressed in garments that were distinctly Hebrew. Furthermore, their venerable age and noble mien – far different from that of the typical Hebrew slave – demanded respect and caught the eye of everyone in the room.

“Moses son of Amram requests an audience with the almighty Pharaoh!”

These words sent a chill down my spine, and my heart leapt with excitement. Could this really be Moses, the Hebrew who became a prince of Egypt? I had heard so many stories of this man: how he was saved by an Egyptian princess, how he had killed an Egyptian to save a Hebrew slave, and how he had fled for his life to the desert some forty years before. We Hebrews he left behind still discussed the zeal he had for our people’s liberty, and this was why his sudden reappearance excited me so much. Was he here with some plan for our salvation?

My excited thoughts were suddenly interrupted as one of the two men cried out in a loud voice, “Thus says Jehovah, the God of Israel, ‘Let my people go, that they may hold a feast to me in the wilderness.’” The stir that had begun in the doorway quickly spread to the rest of the room, and the air was instantly filled with the buzz of excited murmurs. I heard one of Pharaoh’s advisers say in a low tone that the one who spoke was not Moses himself, but his brother, Aaron. The two Hebrews continued to advance slowly down the long aisle of the courtroom, while Pharaoh hurriedly consulted with his closest advisers.

I took advantage of the delay to observe Moses more closely. He was not an especially tall man – his height was about average – but that certainly did not make him any less imposing a figure. He had a royal bearing about himself that could not be explained by any particular feature, but was effected by a combination of his noble carriage, his piercing, courageous eyes, and his bold approach to the throne of the most powerful man on earth. These features made him appear much younger than he really was, and had his long white beard not betrayed his age, I would have thought Moses to be closer to fifty than eighty years old. This was a man whose passion had given him a measure of vigor and life in his old age that most men would never know in their youth.

As Moses and Aaron drew near to the throne, Pharaoh finished his hurried consultation and turned to address his visitors. “Who is Jehovah, that I should obey his voice and let Israel go? I do not know Jehovah, and moreover, I will not let Israel go.”

I sighed. That was the end of my original hope. Moses and Aaron might work tirelessly for years for the cause of our people, but when Meneptah made a declaration in that tone of voice the case was closed. This was a stiff-necked Pharaoh if there ever was one, and nothing short of a miracle would change his mind.

Moses and Aaron, however, did not know this. Consequently, they continued to plead with Pharaoh. Aaron, who appeared to be the spokesman of the two, spoke again. “The God of the Hebrews has met with us. Please let us go a three days’ journey into the wilderness that we may sacrifice to Jehovah our God, lest he fall upon us with pestilence or with the sword.”

This time Pharaoh did not consult with his advisers. “Moses and Aaron,” he sighed, with the tone of one who speaks to a persistently begging child, “why do you take the people away from your work? Get back to your burdens.”

The guards ushered Moses and Aaron from the palace, and with them went my hopes. But the impact his visit had on the courtiers and lords in Pharaoh’s throne room was tremendous. The entire court was filled with excited conversation that lasted throughout much of the rest of the day. Moses might be unable to change the plight of his people, but he certainly brought their circumstances into the focus of Egypt’s most powerful men.

Before Moses came, I had not realized that focusing Pharaoh’s attention on the children of Israel might be a bad thing. Afterward, however, this became all too clear. Several hours after Moses and Aaron had left, Pharaoh called together the taskmasters and foremen he had set over Hebrews and made a declaration. “It seems that the people are not working hard enough: they are asking to go into the wilderness to sacrifice to their God. This is sheer laziness. Therefore, you shall no longer give the people straw to make bricks, as in the past; let them go and gather straw for themselves.”

Never was a more bitter irony recorded in all of history. We, the Hebrew slaves in Egypt, had waited over two hundred years for a man of prestige and authority to plead our cause to Pharaoh. Finally such a man had come, and the result was an increase in the hopelessness of our situation. Needless to say, I was not pleased with Moses and Aaron. I wished they had never come. I had known almost from the start that they couldn’t do any good for us, but now I realized that they had instead done great harm.

The taskmasters were soon gone, eager to perform their despicable task. They performed it with zeal and alacrity, too. Throughout the rest of the day and the day following, my people were forced to work harder than ever before. Essentially, they were told to do twice as much work in the same amount of time, and success in such a task could hardly be hoped for. Finally, in desperation, the Hebrew leaders came to Pharaoh to beg for mercy.

“O Pharaoh, why do you treat your servants like this?” they cried. “No straw is given to your servants, yet they say to us, ‘Make bricks!’ And behold, your servants are beaten; but the fault is in your own people.”

Apparently these men did not know the source of the cruel order. Meneptah smiled slightly as he crushed their hopes for justice. “You are idle, you are idle,” he said. “That is why you say, ‘Let us go and sacrifice to Jehovah.’ Go now and work. No straw will be given you, but you must still deliver the same number of bricks.”

It looked as though the oppression had reached its height and would never abate. Pharaoh had found a good excuse for further persecuting his Hebrew slaves, and he was not about to let it go. In fact, I was afraid this oppression would get even worse, for Moses and Aaron had the audacity to return the next day. They entered the court in a manner similar to that of two days before, and addressed Pharaoh.

“Jehovah, the God of Israel, who created the earth and all that is therein, says, ‘Let My people go out of this land!’”

Pharaoh scoffed at the two men. “Moses and Aaron, you are indeed audacious! Do you wish for yet more work to be given to your people? I will still not let your people go.”

“It was not our idea to return to you, O Pharaoh, but the command of Jehovah.”

“I have no concern for your God. How am I even to know that He exists? Show me a miracle to prove that He is real.”

Pharaoh smiled with the knowledge that he held the upper hand. Even if some strange twist of fate proved Moses and Aaron to be magicians, the best magicians in the known world were in Pharaoh’s employ. With characteristic pride, he took advantage of every opportunity to display these men’s skills. My heart was heavy with the realization that if Moses and Aaron had no sign to offer, they would be completely disregarded, and that if they did perform some trick, Pharaoh’s men would certainly equal it.

Moses and Aaron, however, were not phased by such a challenge. Without speaking a word, Moses stood to the side and Aaron came a little closer to the throne. He held up his tall rod and then, with a force that I was sure would break the staff, struck the marble floor. The rod did not break, however, and instead fell strangely limp. My mouth dropped as what had certainly been a stick of wood suddenly grew scales, changed its shape, and became what was undoubtedly a large serpent.

I was awestruck. Surely this display of miraculous power could only be of God! Perhaps Moses and Aaron were the rescuers for whom we had prayed after all! My renewed hopes were quickly dashed, however, as Pharaoh let out a sinisterly careless laugh.

“I suppose you must think I will believe you now? You underestimate my own powers.” He turned to me. “Call Jannes and Jambres.”

I shuddered at the thought. Jannes and Jambres were two of the most evil men in the Egyptian empire. Pharaoh’s two chief magicians, and staunch opponents of any Hebrew liberties, they were both feared and hated by my people. Nevertheless, I could not disobey so direct an order from Pharaoh himself. I quickly dispatched messengers to these men’s homes, and we all waited for them.

Jannes was the first to arrive. A sullen, irritable man, he personified the word “sinister.” His thin, sallow face and sly manner always reminded me of snakes, and I think he was more serpentine than any other man I have ever seen. Six or seven strong slaves always carried his immense chest of magic paraphernalia behind him – a trunk which no one was ever permitted to open, or even to touch, with the occasional exception of Jambres. When there was occasion for a demonstration of Jannes’ powers, he would set up a little canopy around it, enter this tent, rummage for a while, and then, upon emerging, perform such dazzling wonders that the entire nation held him in fear and awe.

Jambres was not far behind his colleague, and his entrance was far grander. He walked in with a flash of light and a loud crack, like a small thunderstorm, and waved his arms over his head as his name was announced. It was widely known that Jambres was a man who loved attention. Indeed, he had no compunctions against demanding attention, and those from whom he demanded it were terrified to refuse. Although Jambres was a far more showy and pompous man than Jannes, and although he only carried a sack with him, his powers were equally impressive. No one who crossed him could be sure that he was safe from Jambres’ evil spells of death.

Pharaoh smiled complacently as his sorcerers arrived, and as soon as they were situated he addressed them. “Jannes and Jambres, these Hebrew men have demanded in the name of Jehovah their God that I let their people go into the wilderness. As proof of this – Jehovah’s existence, they have turned a stick into a snake. Now I want you to show them the power of the gods of Egypt.”

Jambres burst into a loud and cruel laugh. “A stick into a snake? Why there is no need for divine intervention of any kind to perform so small a miracle. We, O Pharaoh, can repeat this trick with our own considerable powers. Is that not so, Jannes?”

Jannes gave a laconic answer in the affirmative and slithered into his tent, beckoning for Jambres to follow. Very shortly after, a sweet-smelling smoke began to pour out of the tent, and the room was soon thick with it. Suddenly, there was a flash of light, and the two magicians appeared, outlined in the slowly-clearing mist, holding up what appeared to be two long rods. Suddenly Jannes called out an oath and there was another flash of light. The rods in his and Jambres’ hands went suddenly limp, and they flung them to the ground. By this time the smoke had mostly cleared, and it could easily be seen that the magicians had succeeded in recreating Aaron’s miracle. Instead of one snake writhing on the ground, there were now three.

“What do you think now, Hebrew?” mocked Jambres. “Is your God greater than we are?”

Before either Aaron or Moses had time to reply, someone shouted something about the snakes. I looked quickly in the serpents’ direction, and a fascinating sight met my glance: Aaron’s snake was swallowing Jannes’. Jambres’ serpent was nowhere to be seen, and someone mentioned seeing that one eaten, too.

“Bah!” Jambres turned to Aaron with a look of distain. “A good trick you have there, but you are not as sly as you think. My snake would have eaten yours just as easily had it been the first created!” This statement quickly shed light on what had at first seemed to be a sign from heaven. The Egyptian crowd was easily swayed, and they sighed with relief.

Aaron still did not speak. Instead, he walked over to his now immobile serpent and, bending over, grasped it firmly by the tail. Instantly, the snake thrashed violently into a straight line and turned to wood. Aaron held a normal rod. Hearing a gasp behind me, I turned to Jannes just in time to catch a look of horror and surprise on his face – a look that quickly vanished but distinctly impressed me. Perhaps turning a snake back into a rod was beyond Jannes’ skill. Of course, I would never know, for Jannes’ snake had been eaten; but Jannes no longer seemed as confident as he had.

Pharaoh was not impressed with Aaron’s sign, despite the fact that his magicians had not quite equaled it. Maintaining that they would have done so, except for the audacity of Aaron’s snake, he ordered Moses and Aaron out without ceremony. He remained cross and irritable for the remainder of the day.

The next morning dawned fresh and fair, as always. Pharaoh was in a much better mood, and as he ordered me to accompany him and the rest of his entourage to the river for his bath, he seemed positively cheerful. He was so cheerful, in fact, that when Jannes and Jambres (with whom Pharaoh was rather displeased still) joined the group halfway down the path to discuss some business with Meneptah, he did not turn them down or even frown at them. It seemed that nothing could ruin Pharaoh’s happiness.

Something did, however, before the party reached the river. As we made the last turn before the bathing place on the Nile, two men came into view. It took very little observation to see that Moses and Aaron awaited us. Instantly, Pharaoh grew angry. His light-hearted conversation turned into a grim silence, and his smile became an irate scowl. He continued on, however, and we followed in silence.

“O Pharaoh, Jehovah, the God of the Hebrews sent me to you, saying, ‘Let My people go, that they may serve Me in the wilderness.” This time, Moses was the spokesman.

“I know this already, Moses,” snapped Meneptah. “But you have not shown me that your God, Jehovah, has any reason to deserve this sacrifice.”

“Jehovah is the God of the entire earth, and so far, Pharaoh, you have not obeyed him. Therefore, Jehovah is sending a sign to punish you for your hardness of heart. By this you shall know that Jehovah is God: When the Nile is struck by this, the very staff that became a serpent yesterday, the water will turn to blood. The fish will die, the river will stink, and your people will grow weary of drinking from it.”

Moses spoke the truth: when Aaron struck the water with his staff just moments later, the Nile River turned red, and blood flowed instead of water. Pharaoh did not get his bath, and he stormed to the palace with fury in his eyes. Jannes and Jambres found some fresh water and turned it into blood, but I overheard them arguing over how Moses could have performed his miracle on so large a scale. Furthermore, they could not turn the blood into water, no matter how long or hard they tried.

Seven days passed before clear water again flowed in the Nile – seven miserable, thirsty days. Everyone in Egypt had to dig wells to get drinkable water, and those whose wells were especially successful began to sell their water at an exorbitant price. The fishing industry collapsed. Indeed, the economy was in shambles, and the entire land smelled horrible. But the seven miserable days finally came to an end, and Pharaoh did not heed Moses and Aaron’s plea for the release of the Hebrews.

“If they can only cut off our water supply for seven days, than we have nothing to worry about,” he said. “Egypt will never allow herself to be pressured by so small a problem.”

Just an hour later, Moses and Aaron reentered Pharaoh’s palace and came before him in the throne room. The court did not buzz with excitement this time: they glared at the Hebrew men with fearful animosity. Moses again demanded that Pharaoh release the captive Hebrews; Pharaoh again refused. Moses predicted another plague – a blight of frogs that would come out of the Nile and get into everything. Once again, it came about just as he predicted.

The plague of frogs was a nightmare. The slimy amphibians were just as numerous as Moses had said they would be, but they were certainly worse than I had ever expected. They got into beds, ovens, and kneading bowls. It seemed that no room was beyond their reach. Pharaoh’s throne room was free from this scourge only because he kept fifty slaves working full time to sweep out the frogs that constantly hopped through the large entrances.

Jannes and Jambres went to work again. Although they succeeded at producing frogs to an extent, they were worried. I heard them arguing again several times, and my impression was that they were not satisfied with their results. My suspicion was confirmed in the early afternoon when Jannes and Jambres came to speak with Pharaoh.

“O Pharaoh,” began Jambres, “we have replicated Moses’ latest miracle, as you yourself have witnessed. However, we have are unable to reverse this process. Perhaps Moses knows some deep spells that could save us from a calamity like the last one.”

Pharaoh sneered at his magicians. “Would Moses use such a spell if I did not acquiesce to his demands? And do you really expect me to release the Hebrews, merely because more frogs than usual happened to emerge from the Nile? I would have expected you to have more courage.”

Neither magician was eager to respond to this affront, but it was Jannes who finally broke the silence. “My lord, we do not ask you to release the slaves. Their welfare is of no consequence to us. We are concerned only for Egypt. If these frogs continue to come up onto the land for a full week, the results will be disastrous. We advise, therefore, that you merely assert your willingness to cooperate with this so-called Jehovah. Whether you keep your word is not our concern.”

Pharaoh was highly pleased with this plan, and he quickly called for Moses. I had never seen Meneptah act before, but he proved his ability on that day. Adopting a tone of desperation and reverence, he called out to Moses, “Moses, you are destroying my land! Plead, therefore, with Jehovah to take away the frogs, and I will let the people go to sacrifice to Jehovah.”

Effective though Pharaoh’s tones had been, I do not think Moses was convinced. He quietly shook his head, but he appeared willing to help. “Be pleased to command me when I am to plead for you, that this plague of frogs should end.”

Pharaoh frowned. Clearly, he did not like this answer. Perhaps he thought Moses was being sarcastic; perhaps he resented needing someone to plead for him. Whatever his thoughts were, all he said was, “Tomorrow.” He dismissed Moses and Aaron with a wave of his hand, and they left quietly.

The frogs died the next day, just as Moses had said. Unfortunately, Pharaoh still did not let the people go. I, of course, was not surprised, but many of my people complained bitterly. It was true that times had never been harder for the children of Israel: the straw was still not provided, and the people were now ordered to dig wells and shovel frogs as well. Nevertheless, I was regaining my feeling of hope. From my unique perspective in Meneptah’s court, I could see that our Egyptian oppressors were plagued by unrest as well as blood and frogs, and although things were getting harder for us Hebrews, our God seemed to be working.

Moses and Aaron did not come to Pharaoh’s court the day the frogs died, but they were still at work. About an hour after noon, I noticed some of the palace guards scratching themselves. Then the lords and advisers in the court began to scratch as well, and it was not long before the entire courtroom was scratching and shouting in pain. What caused this dreadful epidemic of itchiness was soon apparent: a gigantic swarm of nearly invisible insects had filled the room. These detestable creatures were biting every living thing in sight, and there was no escaping them. Even Pharaoh, the almighty ruler, had no relief.

Before a minute had gone by, a messenger ran in and approached Pharaoh’s throne. “O Pharaoh, another plague has come upon your land. Moses and Aaron have struck the dust with the Staff of God, and the very ground of Egypt is turning into gnats. The land is full of them, and there is no respite to be found.”

Pharaoh was predictably furious. Just over a week ago, he practically begged for Moses to demonstrate a miracle. Now too many miracles had occurred, and his magicians were struggling to keep up. Here was another test of there skill.

“Call Jannes and Jambres!” he said. I dispatched messengers quickly, and it was not long before the sorcerers arrived. They set up Jannes’ tent, and they were in it for over an hour. Finally they came out, and despair was in their faces.

“O Pharaoh, no man could produce such a miracle as this. It is beyond our power to turn the dust into gnats. Indeed, it is beyond the hand of any magician: this is the finger of God!”

Even as my skin ached with the maddening itchiness of the gnats, my heart leapt with joy at this news. Jehovah had heard the cry of His people! Pharaoh might still refuse to release us from our bondage, but I was no longer afraid. Clearly, Jehovah was working on our behalf. It was only a matter of time before He would prevail, and we would be finally delivered.