He was often challenged to dispute; he never defended himself except by words, but they were so weighty and fiery that people soon left him in peace. If he struck, he knew how to make the injury good. One day when he was going down the defile to the stony moor, a mischievous boy ran up behind him and knocked him down. Jesus quickly picked himself up, and shouted angrily to the boy, “Die!” When he saw the blazing eye, the boy turned deathly pale and began to tremble so that, near to fainting, he had to lean up against the rocky wall. Jesus went up to him, laid his hand on his shoulder and said kindly, “Live!”
No one in the whole country-side had ever seen such an eye as his. Like lightning in anger, in calmer moods like the gleam of dewdrops upon flowers.
CHAPTER X
As Jesus gradually grew to manhood he worked at his trade as a master. For Joseph was old and feeble, and could only sit by the bench, overlook the carpenters and tell them what it would be best to do. They had a young apprentice, a near relation, named John, who helped Jesus with the carpentering and building. When they built a cottage in Nazareth, or roofed a house, he was severe and strict with the youth. But when on the Sabbath day they wandered together through the country between the vines, over the meadows with the stones and herds, sometimes through the dark cedar forests to the lower slopes of Lebanon, they said not a word about the work. They watched the animals, the plants, the streams, the heavens, and their everlasting lights, and rejoiced exceedingly. Sometimes they assisted poor gardeners and shepherds, and did them trifling services. They taught John to blow the horn, and Jesus sang joyful psalms with a clear voice.
But Joseph’s death was approaching.
He lay half-blind on his bed, and asked Mary how she would manage when he was gone. Then he felt with his cold hand for Jesus.
“My son, my son!”