Mary was just one of the carefree young girls who went to the well at dawn to get water. I enjoyed watching her because she seemed unusually sweet and innocent- and sincere. No one knew what to think when she fled so suddenly to Elisabeth's place in Ain Karim. Rumor had it she had seen an angel, but I didn't put too much stock in that. After all, she was young and impressionable. But when she came back obviously pregnant, how the tongues did wag!
I watched her from a distance, all through the years. I heard about the remarkable flight to Egypt with her husband, Joseph, and was glad they chose to return to Nazareth after all was said and done. They had a cute boy; they named him Jesus. A person couldn't help loving him. I could tell she was really wrapped up in her children, especially that boy. I had to scratch my head a few times, though, when he started doing miracles-pretty uncanny, that.
But his preaching, well, that sure had a way of touching the heart. That same heart nearly broke when I saw her grief when her boy was crucified.
You'll read about it through Mary's eyes, through her words and her tears, in this, her diary.
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