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I, Nehemiah, am the son of Hacaliah. These are my words. They tell my story. During the winter month of Chislev in the 20th year of Artaxerxes I’s reign, I was in the fortress of Susa when one of my brothers, Hanani, came from Judah along with some other men. I asked them about those Jews who had escaped—who had survived the exile—and about our city, Jerusalem.

Hanani and the Judean Men (to Nehemiah): It’s a disaster. The survivors of the exile who are in the Persian province of Jerusalem have been wronged and are hated. The wall of Jerusalem has been reduced to piles of rock, and its gates consumed by flame.

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