She was an aged seeress when she said these things, and I was but a girl, a field unploughed, a stone not yet in a wall.
But all that she beheld in the mirror of her mind has come to pass even in my day.
Jesus of Nazareth rose from the dead and led men and women unto the people of the sunset. The city that yielded Him to judgment was given unto destruction; and in the Judgment Hall where He was tried and sentenced, the owl hoots a dirge while the night weeps the dew of her heart upon the fallen marble.
And I am an old woman, and the years bend me down. My people are no more and my race is vanished.
I saw Him but once again after that day, and once again heard His voice. It was upon a hilltop when He was talking to His friends and followers.
And now I am old and alone, yet still He visits my dreams.
He comes like a white angel with pinions; and with His grace He hushes my dread of darkness. And He uplifts me to dreams yet more distant.
I am still a field unploughed, a ripe fruit that would not fall. The most that I possess is the warmth of the sun, and the memory of that man.
I know that among my people these shall not rise again king nor prophet nor priest, even as the sister of my father foretold.
We shall pass with the flowing of the rivers, and we shall be nameless.
But those who crossed Him in midstream shall be remembered for crossing Him in midstream.