HEARTLIGHT(R) Magazine: Special Feature: A Tale of Two Grasshoppers

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Moses reached them, and their anger subsided, but still they muttered among themselves. Then quiet fell, broken only by the shuffling of feet and the cry of a baby.
“Speak up,” Moses said, his voice rebounding from the cliffs behind and about him, “you who have gone into the land. Tell me and your people about the country promised to us by the Almighty Lord.”
The twelve men looked nervously at one another. Finally my father took a few halting steps forward. He cleared his throat. Looking away from Moses and over the heads of the people, he said, “The land is…it’s a good land, a fertile land. But the people who dwell there are bigger and taller than we. They live in large, strong cities with walls halfway to heaven. They have mighty warriors among them, and—and we saw giants there!”
He began saying more, but the swelling chorus of groans and exclamations from below drowned out his voice.
Those around me looked at each other, some disbelieving, some smugly frowning, their worst fears satisfying confirmed. As the clamor gained in volume, another voice rang out above the dismayed multitude. I scrambled for a betted position to see who it was.
“No! No! You must not listen to this!” So insistent was Caleb’s tone that the mob grew uneasily quiet, redirecting its attention to him. He stood with clenched fists, glaring defiantly at the ten who stood across from them. With Joshua at his side, Caleb strode to the edge of the high place. Looking first at Moses and Joshua, then at the people below, he spoke in a clear, strong voice.
“The land to which the Lord brings us flows with milk and honey!” He reached down at his feet, tearing a cluster of large grapes from a huge bunch strung on a pole, and shook the fruit above his head as he held the crowd with his eyes. “And there are pomegranates and figs as well! These are the fruits of Canaan, which the Lord has promised to give us-if only we will take it. And we can!”
I looked behind me, expecting nods of renewed confidence and confirmation, but only scowls and downcast faces met my smile. Could they hear no voice but that of their won doubts? Were they deaf to all but words of doom?
Another of the ten thrust himself in front of Caleb, and turned to the people: “The land devours its inhabitants!” he shouted. “It is a wonder we returned alive. Do you wish to fight hand-to-hand with giants? Can grasshoppers such as we bring down the mighty Nephilim?”
Louder groans came from the crowd, their consternation visibly growing by the instant. Another of the ten seized the moment, crying out: “We cannot go in to be mangled by the blood weapons we have witnessed with our own eyes. We will not!”
A quick roar of assent ripped through the crowd.
“NO!” shouted Moses, pointing his staff like a spear at the hearts of the attackers, and holding it there until all was silent. Anger crackled outward from him like lightning, and I flinched from his burning eyes. Though the ten were maddened with fear, their resolve crumbled before the wrath that washed outward from Moses in a palpable wave. Grumbling, they withdrew, though not without threatening looks at Joshua and Caleb.
The people wandered away to their tents, ruefully chewing their cuds of woe.
That night, I watched as men came to my father’s tent, their eyes shifting this way and that. From my place in the corner, I listened incredulously as they asked, in low, sniveling voices, whether we should choose another leader who would take us back to Egypt.
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