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Beautiful
He was such a beautiful child. He grew into a beautiful man - the most beautiful I have ever seen or will see. The most beautiful the world will ever see.
I remember finding out that I was pregnant. I was in shock. For one thing, I found out in the most amazing manner. But it went beyond the circumstances of the news. At first, I just didn't see how it was possible. But once I wrapped my mind around the idea, I was eternally thankful, filled with this unbelievable feeling of joy and peace.
My future husband visited me not long after. I was so afraid to tell him. I was scared he wouldn't understand, or even worse, not believe me. But as soon as I opened the door, I realized how unfounded my fears were. He stood there in the doorway, his soft brown eyes shining, a slight smile gracing his lips. He had an unquestionable angelic quality to him - joyful and wonderfully serene. I ran into his open arms and he whispered in my ear, "I know." I looked into his face and smiled a smile of pure joy and hope.
I remember when he was born. We traveled far and wide, but we could not find a single place to stay. We ended up in the most humble place imaginable.
It was a perfect birth; it was clean, quick, and as painless as possible. Too bad it wasn't in better surroundings. They didn't matter though. What mattered was that it was my child, and he was safe, warm, and oh so beautiful. I suppose that is all a mother can ask for.
After nursing him, he fell asleep in my arms, quiet and peaceful. He hardly ever cried, only when he was hungry. Most of the time he would sleep, or gaze off into the distance in wonder. Even then, he found joy in the world. It was clear he was special from the beginning.
He grew into the most joyful child I have ever seen. He saw beauty in everything; he recognized it in nature and people. He would bring out the best in everyone, with his acts of generosity and selflessness. The only trouble he ever caused was when he questioned things - and he questioned everything. He was insatiably curious. All too often, I didn't have the answers to his questions. At first, it was questions about the world, about nature and the things that surrounded him. But as he grew older, he began to question authority on moral issues. When other people would be afraid to question - either because it seemed impolite or because it was dangerous - he would without hesitation. Yet, he was never rude or pompous about it.
All of his questioning was based on his unshakable sense of right and wrong. He never even thought of doing anything evil; he was incapable of it. But his beauty sprang from more than just a lack of evil; it resulted from his abundance of love. His kindness and compassion were wonderfully intense.
Whenever he did anything that required sacrifice, he would never draw attention to himself. He was never arrogant or pretentious. He just did what was needed, without complaint or fuss. Much of the time, he was quiet and meditative, speaking only when he felt it was necessary.
As he grew up, he became an apprentice under his father. He learned to work with the carpenter's tools, even though he knew his future held other things. We all knew he would not be taking over the business permanently, but figured learning a trade couldn't hurt either. We did not worry about the future, just trusting God to show us the way.
And He did. My son knew when it was his time to leave. As much as I didn't want him to go, I knew that I must. So I released him to find his place in the world.
The first time he returned home, there was an uproar. The townspeople nearly killed him, angry about something he had said. But after the stories of his accomplishments returned home, he was accepted. Many were still wary of him, but people's opinions never influenced him.
He didn't come home often, but when he did, he had the most fabulous stories to tell. Tales of faraway lands, and foreign people he had befriended. He was so filled with joy, so radiant. Occasionally, some of his followers would be with him. I treated them like family, of course. After all, they were people my son deeply loved.
Then there were the times he would come home and be completely silent. During those times, his face would carry this indescribable expression of pain, exposing the suffering resting on his soul. I hated to see him like that. Somehow I knew that there was nothing I could do about it, that it wasn't supposed to be relieved. But that didn't prevent me from despising it. I can't say I felt his pain, but it always affected me deeply, just as it does now.
I watched his birth, watched him grow up, watched him work in the world. And now I am at his grave and I am crying. The hardest I have ever cried or ever will cry. My tears are founded in the deepest grief and the deepest joy. He has done a truly remarkable thing; it is an amazing thing, a beautiful thing. And he is the most beautiful man to ever grace the earth.
"...his mother treasured all of these things in her heart." - Luke 2:51
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