There was a man in Bethlehem named Boaz, a relative of Elimelech—Naomi's late husband. He was a man of standing, respected and righteous, known throughout Bethlehem for his strength and kindness.
One morning, Ruth said to Naomi,
"Let me go into the fields and gather the leftover grain behind anyone in whose eyes I find favor."
Naomi smiled gently.
"Go ahead, my daughter."
And so Ruth went. She wrapped her shawl tightly around her shoulders and stepped into the golden fields, where reapers moved rhythmically, cutting and binding the harvest. She followed quietly behind them, picking up what they left—each grain a gift of grace.
As God would have it, the field she entered belonged to Boaz, the very man from Elimelech's clan.
Just then, Boaz arrived from Bethlehem, greeting his workers with warmth:
"The Lord be with you!"
And they answered with cheerful respect:
"The Lord bless you!"
As Boaz surveyed the field, his eyes caught sight of a young woman gleaning among the stalks.
"Whose young woman is that?" he asked the foreman.
The foreman replied,
"She's the Moabite who returned with Naomi from Moab. She asked to glean behind the harvesters, and she's worked from morning till now—only resting for a moment."
Boaz's heart softened. He approached Ruth.
"Listen, my daughter. Don't go and glean in another field. Stay here with my servant girls. Watch where they harvest and follow along after them. I've ordered the men not to touch you. And when you are thirsty, drink from the jars they have filled."
Ruth fell to her knees, bowing her face to the ground.
"Why have I found such favor in your eyes—that you notice me, a foreigner?"
Boaz answered kindly,
"I've heard all about you—how you cared for your mother-in-law since your husband's death, how you left your father, your mother, and your homeland to live among a people you did not know. May the Lord repay you for what you've done. May you be richly rewarded by the God of Israel, under whose wings you've come to take refuge."
Ruth's eyes shimmered with gratitude.
"May I continue to find favor in your eyes, my lord," she said softly. "You've given me comfort and spoken kindly, though I am not even one of your servant girls."
At mealtime, Boaz called out to her,
"Come over here. Eat some bread and dip it in the vinegar."
She sat with the harvesters, and Boaz personally offered her roasted grain. She ate until she was full—and still had leftovers.
When she rose to return to work, Boaz quietly told his men,
"Let her gather even among the sheaves. Don't embarrass her. In fact, pull out some stalks from the bundles and leave them for her. Don't rebuke her."
Ruth worked until evening, her hands steady and strong. When she beat out what she had gathered, it was nearly an ephah of barley—enough to feed them well.
That night, she carried it back to town. Naomi's eyes widened at the sight.
"Where did you glean today? Blessed be the man who took notice of you!"
Ruth smiled.
"The man's name is Boaz."
Naomi's face lit with hope that had been long buried.
"The Lord bless him! He has not stopped showing kindness to the living and the dead. That man is our relative—one of our kinsman-redeemers."
Ruth added,
"He even told me to stay with his workers until they finish the harvest."
Naomi nodded.
"It's good for you, my daughter, to stay with his girls. In someone else's field, you might be harmed."
And so Ruth stayed close to Boaz's servants through the barley and wheat harvests. She gleaned faithfully by day and returned each night to live with Naomi—
unaware that God was weaving redemption into the quiet rhythm of her labor.