In the quiet hills of Ramathaim lived a man named Elkanah, a devoted worshiper whose lineage ran deep through the tribe of Ephraim. He had two wives: Peninnah, blessed with children, and Hannah, beloved but barren.
Year after year, they journeyed to Shiloh, where the tabernacle stood and where Hophni and Phinehas, the sons of Eli, served as priests. At every sacrifice, Elkanah gave Peninnah and her children their portions. But to Hannah he gave a double portion, because his love for her was deep—even though the Lord had closed her womb.
Peninnah, fueled by jealousy, used every opportunity to provoke Hannah, reminding her of the emptiness she carried. The words stung. They lingered. And each year, as they went up to the house of the Lord, the pain grew heavier until Hannah could no longer eat, only weep.
"Hannah, why do you cry?" Elkanah would ask gently. "Why won't you eat? Why is your heart so troubled? Am I not worth more to you than ten sons?"
But some aches even love cannot quiet.
One day, after the sacrificial meal, Hannah rose and slipped away to the entrance of the Lord's temple. Eli, old and weary, sat watching from his chair. Hannah fell before the presence of God, her soul unraveling in bitterness and desperate hope.
Tears streamed down her face as she whispered a vow:
"O Lord Almighty, look upon my misery and remember me. Give me a son, and I will give him back to You all the days of his life. His hair will never be touched by a razor."
Her lips moved, but no sound came. Eli watched, misunderstanding.
"Woman, how long will you stay drunk? Put away your wine."
Hannah shook her head, the pain in her voice trembling.
"No, my lord. I am not drunk. I am a woman with a troubled spirit. I have poured out my soul before the Lord. Do not mistake me for a wicked person—I have been praying out of my anguish and grief."
Eli's expression softened. The priest raised his hand in blessing.
"Go in peace. May the God of Israel grant what you have asked."
A small smile broke through Hannah's sorrow. "May your servant find favor in your eyes."
She returned to Elkanah, ate again, and from that moment her face carried a quiet hope.
Early the next morning, the family worshiped and traveled back to Ramah. And in time, the Lord remembered Hannah. She conceived and bore a son. She named him Samuel, saying,
"Because I asked the Lord for him."
When Elkanah prepared to make the yearly sacrifice, Hannah stayed behind.
"When the child is weaned," she said, "I will take him to the Lord's house, and he will live there forever."
Elkanah nodded with gentle trust.
"Do what seems best. May the Lord fulfill His word."
She nursed Samuel until he was old enough, then took him to Shiloh—still so small, yet carrying destiny on his shoulders. They brought a bull, an ephah of flour, and a skin of wine as offerings.
Standing before Eli, Hannah's voice trembled with remembered tears.
"My lord, I am the woman who stood here praying to the Lord. I asked Him for this child, and He has granted my request. So now I give him to the Lord. For his whole life, he belongs to Him."
And there, in the place where her sorrow once lay, the little boy Samuel bowed and worshiped the Lord.