The Widow

widow

 I first noticed the widow. Her head bent low, she was weeping. My heart broke for her; for who lie in a coffin ahead of her was her only son. Her husband had died, and she had no one now. She was a widow, a widow without her son.

I already knew that not having a husband or a son, could potentially leave her homeless or a victim of crime. With no one to care for her, I felt such mercy; all I could do was cry.

I looked to Jesus. He had already noticed her. He walked up to the procession, to follow the coffin, to its resting place.

His eyes intense, with compassion.

Many in the crowds did the same. As he walked up to her frail body he said, “Don’t cry.”

His heart ached for her. She looked up at him, and her face showed such sorrow. Jesus felt sympathy and walked up to the coffin, a stretcher of sorts holding the wrapped body of a young man.

“Young man, I say to you, Get up!!”

Suddenly, the wraps began to budge, crumple and fall away.

The crowds gasped, some ran away, terrified!

The young man began speaking, and Jesus helped him to his mother. She grabbed him, wailing and holding him tight! She stroked his tussled brown hair; she kissed him over and over. They began to laugh! They were filled with wonder and began praising Jesus!

A man yelled into the crowd, “A great prophet has appeared among us, God has come to help His people!”

Jesus looked at he woman adoring her son. The boy got a second chance at life. Once dead in an old body, he was brought back to life, through Christ. I stood staring at this man, called Jesus. “He really is the Messiah.” I thought aloud. And I grabbed my pack tighter, as we walked on…

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