I tried to reblog this last night.. but for the first time, did not come through. I love this rendering of the passage of the woman with the alabaster box. I encourage you to place yourself in the story…. don’t just be a third party looking in….
She thought of him as the Beautiful One.
Odd designation for a man, to be sure. And at first glance, his face was not handsome; he would not appear exceptional, were it not for the multitudes following and crowding him.
She had seen him days earlier, surrounded by his close friends and the usual crush of the desperate, the merely curious, and the antagonistic. She entered the crowd and was bounced about like driftwood on a sea of bodies. Yet when she was able to push her way close, she sensed immediately he was not like other men she had known. There was strength, yes, bordering on the sternness she had always experienced from her father and brothers. But this strength had another quality. Gentleness and kindness also surrounded him like the air, blew as a breeze of sweet aroma, the atmosphere perfumed around the the rugged contours of his face.
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