It was a miracle really, that we were there at all.
We sold our trade goods remarkably quickly
and set off for home far earlier than expected.
The long trek through the wilderness went so fast,
it was mid-day when we came to the spring where we always stop.
Having gained so much time, we decided to spend the night.
My son Cornelius took the notion of climbing the high mountain,
“I came to see the world, Father,” he said to me!
It’s our last trip before he becomes a centurion,
he’ll see the world soon enough.
I sent two servants with him (there are lions in these parts),
and the rest of us settled in for a long nap in the shade.
Hours later I heard his voice, echoing over the rocks,
“Father, I’ve found a man!” And down they came,
my two servants supporting someone between them.
Cornelius poured out his story, how they’d reached the top
only to find this man sitting there, “He says his name is Jesus.
And can you believe it Father, he called us angels!”
I don’t know what that man was doing on that mountain,
other than perishing of hunger.
I do know he was as close to death as you can get,
and there was no way he could have come down himself.
We saved him and that’s a fact.
He was weak as a lamb; we fed him bread and wine.
We carried him on our camels as far as Capernaum.
I have a friend who runs an inn,
so we left Jesus there to gather his strength.
I’ll settle the bill next time I’m through.
He made quite an impression on my son Cornelius,
they were always talking late into the night.
When we left Jesus at the inn he grasped my hand,
“How can I re-pay you for your kindness?”
I told him he owed me nothing, and then he said,
“I will always remember the mercy you have shown me.”
As we left the city, I laughed with my companions about it,
“…so somewhere in Galilee there’s a poor man who remembers me.
Everyone should be so lucky!”