My name was Jero. I was living in a long-forgotten village in the region of Samaria. The village was embedded in a valley where there was a river running throughout the seasons. Grass was abundantly green and taking these advantages, I had become a shepherd long before I established my own family in my early adulthood.
As time went on, one more member was introduced into our little community --- our daughter Miriam. She was just lovely, especially her bright eyes. They were so full of life and so brilliant as if they were promising us a clever daughter. Three of us together had then enjoyed our family life happily for three years. Those were the three years in which I was warmly greeted every day when I was back from work; in which my hut was tidily taken care of; in which I didn’t have to worry about my meals and the most important of all, our dear Miriam --- thanks to Anne, my wife.
Unfortunately, after those happy years, there came an unexpected plague, with which, the life of Anne and the precious eye-sight of Miriam were taken away. I was lucky enough to weather through, but what’s the use?
I could never stop hating that abominable plague! NEVER! Never would I forgive its depriving me of my good woman! Oh! How on earth could that disguting plague originate! Damn! Damn it forever!
Though strong as I was, it was too much a shock for me. I just couldn’t bear it. My body seemed disintegrated and my soul broken into pieces. It was only after quite some days that I could bring myself together again. Then, I realized that I had left my sheep behind for so many days that they might have been scattered or eaten by wolves.
From then onwards, I had to take up my woman’s work as well as that of mine --- with the help of my neighbour[s], I became a shepherd again. Early in the morning every day, after having prepared the meals, I took Miriam with me to the grassland where our sheep were grazing. With my limited mastery of language, I tried my best to describe the magnificent combinations of the seven colours to my poor Miriam.
“The sky above us is blue and sometimes it is grey …
“What is grey, Dad?”
“Well, that is spilling some milk over your Dad’s hair when you were still a baby.”
“The grass we’re are sitting on is green. The flowers in your hands are yellow and some are red. You know, something does not have colour.”
“What is the something, Dad?”
“Well, it is the water we drink every day.”
“I see … Dad? Is it the same water which Mum used to wash my hands before we ate?”
“ … ”,
“Is it?”
“Yes, my dear.” --- She was too cute and my throat was too sore to utter these little words.
Yes, she was really cute and that was what kept me living on. When the sun set, I brought her home --- but no longer greeted by Anne. After putting her to bed, I used to sit down in silence. Now and then, I turned my eyes on the the sleeping Miriam. She was my only source of comfort.
“Anne, wherever you may be, pray for little Miriam and me always”…
“My God, my God! I don’t know what made you take my woman away. But whoever’s fault it be, please, may your boundless mercy be on my poor Miriam.”
One day, a merchant, who was on his way home after trading around Galilee, came past our grassland and sat himself down to take a rest. We began chatting.
“Recently, a man called Jesus came from Galilee and the people are crazy over him. You know, he did miracles and drove out devils. He made lepers clean and fed thousands. Many gained hearing and the blind their sight. I’m afraid he must be a messenger of God.”
I was suddenly awakened by his words’ “and the blind their sight!” It seemed that I had been sleeping for three years. But wait a minute, he said, blind, sight … then … Miriam! Yes Miriam!
“Where’s the Man, where’s he? Please tell me where [is] He is now!”
“Hey, take it easy, shepherd. You’re choking me. Put off your hands!”
“With your hands off, Jero. You’re hurting this mister. Forgive him, his daughter is blind. That’s why he’s so anxious.”
“I see. But I [have] never met that Man before. Anyhow, I know where He is. He is travelling up and down in Galilee.”
I was on my heels before I finished thanking him. Yes, Galilee. I had to go to Galilee. Hope was found there. Oh! I was too happy! My dear Miriam, he would restore her sight, I know she would! --- It seemed that that was promised by the Galilean.
I was really too happy, too excited that on my way home, I threw my staff aloft to the air with all my might …
The next day, I began my journey --- with my heart filled with overflowing confidence as if I had been promised. I sold everything and bought a mule on which Miriam was put. Then, I began to step on the road to Galilee. Anne. Pray for us!
The journey was a hard one, especially when we entered the Jewish region. Hospitality was not given [to] us as we were Samaritans. Sometimes, we had to travel with empty stomaches and thirsting throats. Sometimes, we had to travel in the roasting heat and not a shade was given [to] us. However hard it was, I hanged on with growing hope as we approached Galilee.
One day, I heard that the Galilean had entered Jerusalem two days [ago] before. Then, we turned our direction to Jerusalem.
As we entered Jerusalem three [sic] days later in the afternoon, the sky was getting gloomy. It looked so sad that my hopeful heart yielded a little. “Rejoice with me, you grey heaven, for my daughter is going to restore her sight!”
It seemed that the heaven didn’t quite agree with me and was becoming darker. Then I started looking for that Galilean only to find a piece of news that was too hard to be accepted --- the people was crucifying my Galilean.
“Oh! No, that’s impossible! Ridiculous! It’s unfair! Why!”
“It’s because he stirred the peo …”
“I don’t want your explanation, just tell me where He is!”
“Golgotha.”
The name sounded terrible --- a place of skull. But my heart was more terribly upset. “Why crucifies Him! Oh God, have mercy on Miriam, don’t let them do it …”
It was too late. When I arrived, I found that three gibbets were planted on the ground, on one of which, my hope was nailed …
The whole world seemed quaking and the heaven lost its lights. Poor Miriam! You could never see things again! But tell me what’s the use to see this world! What is the use to see this confusing world where hope and happiness were absent? Am I going to look for them from this crucified Galilean who was once my only hope?
