Mary, who was always outwardly calm, but inwardly bound up passionately in the child, looked at Joseph’s stick, and said:  “Joseph, it is a nice thought of yours to deck your staff with a flower in token of our safe arrival.”  Then Joseph looked at his stick and marvelled.  For from the branch which he had cut at Sinai there sprouted a living, snow-white lily.  Oh, Joseph, ’tis the flower of purity!  But what was the use of all the flowers in the world when he was so full of care?  He lifted the child in his arms, and when he looked at his sunny countenance the shadows were dispersed.  But they experienced shadows enough in the land of the sun, where men had built a splendid temple to the sun-god like that which the Israelites at home had built to the great Jehovah.

Things did not go very well with these poor Jews during the long years they remained in this land.  They did not understand the language; but their simple, kindly character and their readiness to be of use told in their favour.  In that treeless land carpentry was at a discount.  They built themselves a hut out of reeds and mud on the bank of the Nile near the royal city of Memphis, but in such a building the carpenter’s skill did not shine.  Still it was better than the dwellings of other poor people by the riverside.  Joseph thought of fishing for a livelihood; but the fish-basket that he wove was so successful that the neighbours supplied him with food so that he might make such baskets for them.  And soon people came from the town to buy his baskets, and when he carried his wares to market, he got rid of them all on the way.  So basket-making became his trade, and he thought how once the little Moses was saved in a basket on the Nile.  And just as his work was liked, so also did Mary and himself win affection, and they confessed that life went better on the banks of the Nile than in poor little Nazareth, for veritably there were fleshpots in Egypt.  If only they could have crushed their hearts’ longing for home!

When the little Jesus began to walk, the mothers who were their neighbours wished him to make friends with their children and play with them.  But the boy was reserved and awkward with strangers.  He preferred to wander alone at evening-time besides the stream and gaze at the big lotus flowers growing out of the mud, and at the crocodiles which sometimes crawled out of the water, and lifting their heads towards the sky, opened their great jaws as if they would drink in the sunshine.  He often remained out longer than he ought, and came back with glowing cheeks, excited by some pleasure about which he said nothing.  When he had eaten his figs or dates, and lay in his little bed, his father and mother sat close by, and spoke of the land of their fathers, or told ancient tales of their ancestors until he fell asleep.  Joseph instructed the boy in the Jewish writings; but it was soon apparent that Joseph was the pupil, for what he read with difficulty from the roll, little Jesus spoke out spontaneously from his innermost soul.  So he grew into a slender, delicate stripling, learned the foreign tongue, marked the customs, and followed them so far as they pleased him.  There was much in him that he did not owe to education; although he said little, his mother observed it.  And once she asked Joseph:  “Tell me, are other children like our Jesus?”