her.
After three days I visited her. And there was wonder in her eyes, and her breasts heaved, and her arm was around her firstborn like the shell that holds the pearl.
We all loved Mary’s babe and we watched Him, for there was warmth in His being and He throbbed with the pace of His life.
The seasons passed, and He became a boy full of laughter and little wanderings. None of us knew what He would do, for He seemed always outside of our race. But He was never rebuked though He was venturous and overdaring.
He played with the other children rather than they with Him.
When He was twelve years old, one day He led a blind man across the brook to the safety of the open road.
And in gratitude the blind man asked Him: “Little boy, who are you?”
And He answered: “I am not a little boy. I am Jesus.”
And the blind man said: “Who is your father?”
And He answered: “God is my father.”
And the blind man laughed and replied: “Well said, my little boy. But who is your mother?”
And Jesus answered: “I am not your little boy. And my mother is the earth.”
And the blind man said: “Then behold, I was led by the Son of God and the earth across the stream.”