Please, Grandmother? Just one story about Jesus?”

“Very well, children, but only a short one.  You must go to sleep.”

The children loved to hear their grandmother tell the story about the mysterious man, Jesus of Nazareth.

“It was many years ago,” Grandmother began.  “Mary and I were about your age.  Our parents were neighbors.  She was the most loyal and honest girl in Nazareth.  We were best friends.

“When we were older, Mary was promised to Joseph, the carpenter.  Joseph was a good man who followed the laws of God.  About that time, Caesar Augustus wanted to know the size of the Roman world, so he told every man to register in the town where they were born.  Joseph took Mary to Bethlehem.

“While they were there, Mary had a baby.  They named him Jesus.  I waited for her and Joseph to bring the baby back to Nazareth, but it was a few years before they came home.  By then I had been pledged to your grandfather, who was from Cana, and we had children of our own.

“Whenever I went to the well, I would ask if anyone knew of Mary. There would be news from time to time, especially stories about her son Jesus.  ‘There’s something about him…’ the women would say.  They didn’t speak of him as they did about the lazy sons of their sisters.  They spoke as if they were trying to decide whether or not they dared believe the stories they heard about him.

“One year during the harvest festival I saw Mary.  We spent the day together, and she was the same devoted, honorable friend.  I met Jesus.  He was bright and respectful, and there was something about him…

“When your father and mother were to be married, we planned a big feast, and Mary came with Jesus.  Afterwards, a servant reported to me that we had run out of wine earlier, but Mary had asked Jesus to help.  Jesus told the servant to fill the jars with water, and then taste it.  It was the best wine of the day.  ‘There was something about him…’ he said.

“As the years went on, the stories about Mary’s son came every day.  He healed, he challenged the priests, he even talked to women and the unclean!  He was concerned with everyone, even tax collectors!  And Mary was not ashamed or afraid.  She knew that there was something about him.

“I went to see Mary after I heard that Jesus died.  She kept the formal period of mourning, but she was not sad.  Her face betrayed the faith she had that he was alive again: so much so that I also believed it!

“Now go to sleep.  When you are older, remember to tell your own grandchildren that I met Jesus.  And there was something about him…”

Patty Luzzi has lived on the Eastside for 33 years. Readers can contact her at pattyluzzi@yahoo.com.