I.N.R.I. - A prisoner's Story of the Cross by Peter Rosegger
page 34 of 318 (10%)
page 34 of 318 (10%)
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sloping rocks where were the graves of the prophets. There he was so
overcome that suddenly he stretched forth his hands to heaven: "Almighty Jehovah, when will the Messiah come?" His cry was re-echoed in the hollows of the rocks, and Mary said: "You should not shout so, Joseph. The dead will not awaken, and Jehovah hears a prayer that is quietly spoken." Mary had hoped in her heart that they would enter Jerusalem and spend the night there. Joseph said it could not be, for he had no relatives in the town who could give them lodging, and he had not money enough to pay strangers for a lodging. Also he did not like the strange ways of the place; he yearned for his beloved Bethlehem. It wasn't very far off now; could she manage it? Mary signed "Yes" with her head, and gathered together all her remaining strength. But just beyond the city walls she sank down exhausted, and Joseph said: "We will stay here so that you may rest, and to-morrow I can show you the Temple." There was a man on a stony hillock nailing two beams of wood together. Joseph understood something of that sort of work, but he was not quite clear over this particular thing. So he asked what it might be. "He for whose use it is, doesn't want it," replied the workman. It then flashed into Joseph's mind that it was a gallows. Mary grasped his arm: "Joseph, let us go on to Bethlehem." For she began to be frightened. They staggered along the road. A draught of the spring of the Valley |
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