words of lamentation. The
multitude halted, too, when we did; and the cheering ceased, and some
of those who stood nearest Him wept also, though no one seemed to know
what had caused His grief. But soon they went on again, and before
they reached the foot of the hill another multitude met them, coming
forth from the city, and we heard their shouts of 'Hosanna in the
Highest!' as they entered the gate of Jerusalem."

"What said your father when he saw all this?" queried Joseph.

"He said but little. There was a shadow on his face, yet he spoke
cheerfully. 'I cannot understand it,' he murmured. 'They are trying to
make Him King of the Jews; but King He will not be, at least not in
their fashion. Yet in some way I know He will be Prince and Deliverer.
I cannot understand, I will wait.'"

"Were you not in Jerusalem when He was put to death?"

"No. My father was frail and ill and we had hastened home to
Bethlehem. News of His death on the cross had only just reached us
when another messenger came to tell us that the sepulcher in which He
had been laid was empty; that He had risen from the dead.

"My father's eyes kindled when he heard this message. He cast aside
his staff and stood firm on his feet. His voice, when he spoke, rang
out like a trumpet. 'Blessed be the Lord God of Israel!' he cried. It
is thus that He redeemeth His people. This Jesus is not to be the
Captain of our armies, but the Savior of our souls. His kingdom is the
kingdom of righteousness, and therefore it is that the prophet hath
said: "Of the increase of His government and peace there shall be
no end."

"Always after that, words of the prophet concerning the Messiah kept
coming back to my father; and once and again he cried out: 'Truly,
this Jesus was the Son of God, the true King of Israel!' As the months
wore on, his words were more and more of the crucified and risen Lord,
and he dwelt in a great peace. At length, when the flocks were led
forth to the midwinter pasturage, he begged to go with me. It was on
this very day that we came, the same day of the year on which the Lord
was born. He was feeble and tottered as he walked; but he leaned on
my arm and we came slowly. In the evening he said: 'Let me go, my son,
and sit once more under the great rock.' I wrapped him in my coat of
skins, and sat here where I sit now and where he was sitting when the
angel came. We talked here long, under the stars, that night, of Him
whom we had learned to love