Chapter 3 Anna, mother of Mary

My daughter's son, Jesus, was born in Nazareth in January.On the night Jesus was born, some guests from the East came to our house.They were traveling through Esdraelon with the caravans of Midian on their way to Egypt.They did not find accommodation in the inn, so they came to our house to board. I greeted them and said: "My daughter just gave birth to a son tonight, please forgive me if I have not treated you well." They thanked me for my reception.After dinner they said, "We want to meet the new baby." Mary's son is described as cute, and Mary is also charming.

When the Persians saw Mary and the child, they took gold, silver, myrrh, and frankincense from their bags and offered them at the child's feet. Then they prostrated themselves and prayed in a language we did not understand. When I ushered them into the prepared bedrooms, they walked as if still in awe of what they had just seen. In the morning they bid us farewell and continued on their way to Egypt.When parting, they told me: "Although the child is only a day old, we have seen the light of God in his eyes and the smile of God on his lips." "We beg you to take care of him, as he will take care of you all."

Having said that, they mounted their camels, and we have not seen them since. Rather than saying that Mary was happy for the newborn, it would be better to say that she was full of wonder and amazement. She always looked at the child for a long time, and then turned her head to gaze at the distant sky through the window, as if seeing some vision. Our two hearts seem to be separated by a valley. The child is growing physically and mentally. He is different from other children. He has a lonely temperament and is not easy to control, and I can't control it. . Yet everyone in Nazareth liked him, and I didn't have to think why.

He often took our food and gave it to passers-by; the sweets I gave him were given to other children before he tasted them himself. He climbed the fruit trees in my home to gather fruit, but never picked it for himself. He raced with the children; sometimes, because he was faster on his feet, he slowed down and let the children reach the finish line first. Sometimes when I took him to bed, he said, "Tell my mother and others: only my body sleeps, but my thoughts are with them, until their thoughts come to me in the morning." He still had many strange remarks when he was a child, but I am too old to remember them all.

How can I believe it now when people say I will never see him again? I still hear his laughter and the sound of his running footsteps; whenever I kiss my daughter's cheek, his fragrance enters my heart again, and his body seems to fill my arms again. But isn't it strange that my daughter doesn't tell me about his newborn? Sometimes I seem to miss him more than my daughter.She stands like a bronze statue in the day; but my heart has melted into a stream. Perhaps she knows secrets that I don't.Wish she could tell me too.