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There were many who followed along behind him,
children, women, men.
There was around him an air of peace,
and their lives were far from peaceful within.

He was weighed down by their adoration
he could not get away
and find some time for the consolation
of a quiet place to fast and pray.

There were so many hungry to feed,
and lives consumed by thirst,
strangers to welcome, the naked in need,
but none as destitute as the selfish, cursed.

But among the people who walked with him
through the brief days before his end
was a woman whose heart was filled to the brim
with love, and desire to honor her friend.

An evening before the preparation feast
Jesus stopped to dine with a leper,
and paying no attention in the least,
the woman humbly asked Jesus to accept her

gift of sweet nard in an alabaster jar.
Seeing his smile, she forced the seal open
and poured out the contents worth many dinar,
over his head; the disciples cried “Broken!”

“The hungry and thirsty you told us about
could have been cared for with money to spare.
If it were sold, but you have allowed her to pour out
and waste such riches. But Jesus was aware.

He told them that her devotion, had been her way to serve
her Lord, who would not long be with them.
She knew his burial was near, so held none in reserve,
and thankful for each moment left, she kissed his garment’s hem.


“Now while Jesus was at Bethany in the house of Simon the leper, a woman came to him with an alabaster jar of very costly ointment, and she poured it on his head as he sat at the table.  But when the disciples saw it, they were angry and said, “Why this waste? For this ointment could have been sold for a large sum, and the money given to the poor.”  But Jesus, aware of this, said to them, “Why do you trouble the woman? She has performed a good service for me.  By pouring this ointment on my body she has prepared me for burial.  Truly I tell you, wherever this good news is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will be told in remembrance of her.” (Matthew 26:6-13)

I wish all of you, my Gentle Readers, the abundance of enough. . .