An open heart, accepting mind,
“To me be as it pleaseth thee” she said.
The glory would come. Until then; pain, pregnancy, parenthood.
The discomfort of travel, disgrace of travail amongst unclean beasts…forgotten at his arrival.
A taste of his glory, angels, the perspicacious faithful, then back to reality.
An infant, completely dependent, supported by the tripod: Mary, Joseph, God.
Sheltered from the elements and a despot by those clever three.
Food on his face, dirty diapers, learning to walk, to talk, to be a savior.
She wiped his face and his nose, cleaned his scrapes, bore his siblings.
Mary, with Joseph by her side, taught him to trust.
Food and shelter and love, of course, and the stories of angelic visits.
More love. It became the core of his message, his mission.
In stature, in charm, in faith.
He studied the holy books, with the holy men.
He must have been like/ not like other boys. We are left to assume.
He continued to greatness, ultimate greatness.
Set on the path by his Mother. And Fathers.
Guided by her example of love, freely given to him, through him, to me.