live trees.
They were tired, and lay down under the trees. Jesus went on a little
farther, where He could obtain a view of the place. He sat down on a
stone, leaned His head on His hand, and looked thoughtfully out over
the country. Something strange and hostile seemed to pervade it. But
He had not come in anger. Something else remained to be done. It was
clear to Him that He Himself must be the pledge of the truth of His
good tidings.

A woman came toiling over the stones. It was His mother. She had
heard how He had come down from the mountains with His disciples, and
thought she would go through the ravine. Now she stood before Him.
Her face, grown thin with grief, was in the shade, since to protect
herself from the sun she had thrown her long upper garment over her
head. A tress of her dark hair fell over one cheek; she pushed it back
with one finger, but it always fell down again. She looked shyly at
her son, who was resting on a stone. She hesitated to speak to Him.
She advanced a step nearer, and as if nothing had ever separated them,
said; "Your house is quite near, my child. Why rest here in such
discomfort?"

He looked at her calmly. Then he answered: "Woman, I would be alone."

She gently answered: "I am quite alone now in the house."

"Where are our relations?"

"They wished to fetch you home, and have been away for weeks in search
of you."

Jesus pointed with a motion of His hand to His sleeping disciples:
"They did not seek Me for weeks, they found Me the first day."

As if she wished to prevent Him complaining again that His kinsmen did
not understand Him, His mother said: "People have long been annoyed
that work was no longer done in our workshop, and so they go to a new
one which has been set up in our street."

"Where is Aaron, the apprentice?"

She replied: "It is not surprising that no one will stay if the
children of the house depart."

He spoke excitedly: "I tell you, woman, spare Me your reproaches and
domestic cares. I have something else to do."

Then she turned to the rocky wall to hide her sobs. After a while she
said softly: "How can you be so cruel to your mother! It's not for
myself I complain; you may well believe. All is over for me in this
world. But you! You bring misfortune on the whole family, and will
yourself destroy everything. By your departed father, by your unhappy
mother, I implore you to let the faith of your fathers alone. I know
you mean w