Years later, when the sun was soft on the hills of Canaan, Sarah, took her final breath. She had lived a full and long life—one hundred and twenty-seven years. Her body lay still in Kiriath Arba, also known as Hebron, and Abraham, heart heavy with grief, knelt beside her, weeping.
Days passed in mourning until Abraham, with solemn dignity, rose from where his beloved lay. He walked to the Hittites, the people of the land, and spoke with deep respect.
"I am a stranger and a sojourner among you," he said. "Please, grant me a piece of your land so I may bury my dead in peace."
The Hittites, recognizing the weight Abraham carried and the honor upon his name, replied with kindness:
"Hear us, my lord. You are a mighty prince among us. Choose the finest of our tombs. None among us will withhold his burial place from you."
But Abraham, humbled, bowed low before them. "If you truly wish to help me," he said gently, "then speak to Ephron, son of Zohar. Let him sell me the cave of Machpelah at the edge of his field. I will pay full price for it, so I may lay Sarah to rest."
Ephron was there, seated among the Hittite elders at the city gate. He stood and responded before all:
"No, my lord. The land and the cave are yours. I give them freely in the sight of my people. Go and bury your dead."
But Abraham would not take it for free. Again, he bowed and said:
"Please, let me pay. I insist."
Ephron sighed, "Very well. The land is worth four hundred shekels of silver—but what is that between us? Bury your dead."
Abraham, without hesitation, weighed the silver as agreed, counted according to the merchant's scale. And so, the field of Machpelah and the cave within it became Abraham's property—witnessed by all the Hittites gathered at the gate.
With reverence, Abraham buried Sarah in the cave near Mamre, a quiet resting place among the trees in the land of promise.
Thus, for the first time, Abraham owned a piece of the land God had sworn would one day belong to his descendants. And in that sacred ground, Sarah rested in peace.