Oh, my son, my son! I cannot bear to look upon your suffering and pain! Your lips are so dry and parched in the heat! The same lips that sweetly whispered “Mama” as a child years ago. The lips that as a 12-year-old spoke to the learned men at the temple—teaching, even then, and doing his Holy Father’s will. As amazed as Joseph and I were, did I realize it would end such as this?
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