The Plagues

Moses and Aaron stood before Pharaoh. "Thus says the Lord," they declared, "let my people go." Pharaoh laughed. "I do not know the Lord, and I will not let them go."

So God struck Egypt. The Nile turned to blood. Frogs filled the houses. Gnats covered the land. Flies swarmed the palace. The cattle grew sick. Sores broke out on the people.

Still Pharaoh's heart was hard. Hail fell and shattered the crops. Locusts ate what the hail had left. Darkness thick enough to touch covered Egypt for three days — but in the homes of Israel there was light.

Then came the last and most terrible plague. "At midnight," the Lord said, "the firstborn in every Egyptian house will die. But my people will be safe if they do as I say."

Every family of Israel took a lamb without blemish. They painted its blood on the wooden frames of their doors. They ate the lamb roasted, ready to travel. The Lord called this night the Passover, for He would pass over every house marked with the blood.

At midnight, weeping rose across Egypt. In every home not marked with blood, the firstborn was gone. Even Pharaoh's own son. And at last Pharaoh called Moses in the dark. "Go. Take your people and leave."