This is a legend about a hermit who lived long ago. He lived high up on the mountain-side in a tiny cave; his food was roots and acorns, a bit of bread given by a peasant, or a cheese brought by a woman who wanted his prayers; his work was praying, and thinking about God. For forty years he lived so, preaching to the people, praying for them, comforting them in trouble, and, most of all, worshiping in his heart. There was just one thing he cared about: it was to make his soul so pure and perfect that it could be one of the stones in God's great Temple of Heaven.

One day, after the forty years, he had a great longing to know how far along he had got with his work, -- how it looked to the Heavenly Father. And he prayed that he might be shown a man --

"Whose soul in the heavenly grace had grown
To the selfsame measure as his own;
Whose treasure on the celestial shore
Could neither be less than his nor more."

As he looked up from his prayer, a white-robed angel stood in the path before him. The hermit bowed before the messenger with great gladness, for he knew that his wish was answered. "Go to the nearest town," the angel said, "and there, in the public square, you will find a mountebank (a clown) making the people laugh for money. He is the man you seek, his soul has grown to the selfsame stature as your own; his treasure on the celestial shore is neither less than yours nor more."

When the angel had faded from sight, the hermit bowed his head again, but this time with great sorrow and fear. Had his forty years of prayer been a terrible mistake, and was his soul indeed like a clown, fooling in the market-place? He knew not what to think. Almost he hoped he should not find the man, and could believe that he had dreamed the angel vision. But when he came, after a long, toilful walk, to the village, and the square, alas! there was the clown, doing his silly tricks for the crowd.

The hermit stood and looked at him with terror and sadness, for he felt that he was looking at his own soul. The face he saw was thin and tired, and though it kept a smile or a grin for the people, it seemed very sad to the hermit. Soon the man felt the hermit's eyes; he could not go on with his tricks. And when he had stopped and the crowd had left, the hermit went and drew the man aside to a place where they could rest; for he wanted more than anything else on earth to know what the man's soul was like, because what it was, his was.

So, after a little, he asked the clown, very gently, what his life was, what it had been. And the clown answered, very sadly, that it was just as it looked, -- a life of foolish tricks, for that was the only way of earning his bread that he knew.

"But have you never been anything different?" asked the hermit, painfully.

The clown's head sank in his hands. "Yes, holy father," he said, "I have been something else. I was a thief! I once belonged to the wickedest band of mountain robbers that ever tormented the land, and I was as wicked as the worst."

Alas! The hermit felt that his heart was breaking. Was this how he looked to the Heavenly Father, -- like a thief, a cruel mountain robber? He could hardly speak, and the tears streamed from his old eyes, but he gathered strength to ask one more question. "I beg you," he said, "if you have ever done a single good deed in your life, remember it now, and tell it to me;" for he thought that even one good deed would save him from utter despair.

"Yes, one," the clown said, "but it was so small, it is not worth telling; my life has been worthless."

"Tell me that one!" pleaded the hermit.

"Once," said the man, "our band broke into a convent garden and stole away one of the nuns, to sell as a slave or to keep for a ransom. We dragged her with us over the rough, long way to our mountain camp, and set a guard over her for the night. The poor thing prayed to us so piteously to let her go! And as she begged, she looked from one hard face to another with trusting, imploring eyes, as if she could not believe men could be really bad. Father, when her eyes met mine something pierced my heart! Pity and shame leaped up, for the first time, within me. But I made my face as hard and cruel as the rest, and she turned away, hopeless.

"When all was dark and still, I stole like a cat to where she lay bound. I put my hand on her wrist and whispered, `Trust me, and I will take you safely home.' I cut her bonds with my knife, and she looked at me to show that she trusted. Father, by terrible ways that I knew, hidden from the others, I took her safe to the convent gate. She knocked; they opened; and she slipped inside. And, as she left me, she turned and said, `God will remember.'

"That was all. I could not go back to the old bad life, and I had never learned an honest way to earn my bread. So I became a clown, and must be a clown until I die."

"No! no! my son," cried the hermit, and now his tears were tears of joy. "God has remembered; your soul is in his sight even as mine, who have prayed and preached for forty years. Your treasure waits for you on the heavenly shore just as mine does."

"As yours? Father, you mock me!" said the clown.

But when the hermit told him the story of his prayer and the angel's answer, the poor clown was transfigured with joy, for he knew that his sins were forgiven. And when the hermit went home to his mountain, the clown went with him. He, too, became a hermit, and spent his time in praise and prayer.

Together they lived, and worked, and helped the poor. And when, after two years, the man who had been a clown died, the hermit felt that he had lost a brother holier than himself.

For ten years more the hermit lived in his mountain hut, thinking always of God, fasting and praying, and doing no least thing that was wrong. Then, one day, the wish once more came, to know how his work was growing, and once more he prayed that he might see a being --

"Whose soul in the heavenly grace had grown
To the selfsame measure as his own;
Whose treasure on the celestial shore
Could neither be less than his nor more."

Once more his prayer was answered. The angel came to him, and told him to go to a certain village on the other side of the mountain, and to a small farm in it, where two women lived. In them he should find two souls like his own, in God's sight.

When the hermit came to the door of the little farm, the two women who lived there were overjoyed to see him, for every one loved and honored his name. They put a chair for him on the cool porch, and brought food and drink. But the hermit was too eager to wait. He longed greatly to know what the souls of the two women were like, and from their looks he could see only that they were gentle and honest. One was old, and the other of middle age.

Presently he asked them about their lives. They told him the little there was to tell: they had worked hard always, in the fields with their husbands, or in the house; they had many children; they had seen hard times, -- sickness, sorrow; but they had never despaired.

"But what of your good deeds," the hermit asked, -- "what have you done for God?"

"Very little," they said, sadly, for they were too poor to give much. To be sure, twice every year, when they killed a sheep for food, they gave half to their poorer neighbors.

"That is very good, very faithful," the hermit said. "And is there any other good deed you have done?"

"Nothing," said the older woman, "unless, unless -- it might be called a good deed -- " She looked at the younger woman, who smiled back at her.

"What?" said the hermit.

Still the woman hesitated; but at last she said, timidly, "It is not much to tell, father, only this, that it is twenty years since my sister-in-law and I came to live together in the house; we have brought up our families here; and in all the twenty years there has never been a cross word between us, or a look that was less than kind."

The hermit bent his head before the two women, and gave thanks in his heart. "If my soul is as these," he said, "I am blessed indeed."

And suddenly a great light came into the hermit's mind, and he saw how many ways there are of serving God. Some serve him in churches and in hermit's cells, by praise and prayer; some poor souls who have been very wicked turn from their wickedness with sorrow, and serve him with repentance; some live faithfully and gently in humble homes, working, bringing up children, keeping kind and cheerful; some bear pain patiently, for his sake.

Endless, endless ways there are, that only the Heavenly Father sees.

And so, as the hermit climbed the mountain again, he thought, --

"As he saw the star-like glow
Of light, in the cottage windows far,
How many God's hidden servants are!"

Thousands of years ago, many years before David lived, there was a very wise and good man of his people who was a friend and adviser of the king of Egypt. And for love of this friend, the king of Egypt had let numbers of the Israelites settle in his land. But after the king and his Israelitish friend were dead, there was a new king, who hated the Israelites. When he saw how strong they were, and how many there were of them, he began to be afraid that some day they might number more than the Egyptians, and might take his land from him.

Then he and his rulers did a wicked thing. They made the Israelites slaves. And they gave them terrible tasks to do, without proper rest, or food, or clothes. For they hoped that the hardship would kill off the Israelites. They thought the old men would die and the young men be so ill and weary that they could not bring up families, and so the race would vanish away.

But in spite of the work and suffering, the Israelites remained strong, and more and more boys grew up, to make the king afraid.

Then he did the wickedest thing of all. He ordered his soldiers to kill every boy baby that should be born in an Israelitish family; he did not care about the girls, because they could not grow up to fight.

Very soon after this evil order, a boy baby was born in a certain Israelitish family. When his mother first looked at him her heart was nearly broken, for he was even more beautiful than most babies are, -- so strong and fair and sweet. But he was a boy! How could she save him from death?

Somehow, she contrived to keep him hidden for three whole months. But at the end of that time, she saw that it was not going to be possible to keep him safe any longer. She had been thinking all this time about what she should do, and now she carried out her plan.

First, she took a basket made of bulrushes and daubed it all over with pitch so that it was water-tight, and then she laid the baby in it; then she carried it to the edge of the river and laid it in the flags by the river's brink. It did not show at all, unless one were quite near it. Then she kissed her little son and left him there. But his sister stood far off, not seeming to watch, but really watching carefully to see what would happen to the baby.

Soon there was the sound of talk and laughter, and a train of beautiful women came down to the water's edge. It was the king's daughter, come down to bathe in the river, with her maidens. The maidens walked along by the river's side.

As the king's daughter came near to the water, she saw the strange little basket lying in the flags, and she sent her maid to bring it to her. And when she had opened it, she saw the child; the poor baby was crying. When she saw him, so helpless and so beautiful, crying for his mother, the king's daughter pitied him and loved him. She knew the cruel order of her father, and she said at once, "This is one of the Hebrews' children."

At that moment the baby's sister came to the princess and said, "Shall I go and find thee a nurse from the Hebrew women, so that she may nurse the child for thee?" Not a word did she say about whose child it was, but perhaps the princess guessed; I don't know. At all events, she told the little girl to go.

So the maiden went, and brought her mother!

Then the king's daughter said to the baby's mother, "Take this child away and nurse it for me, and I will give thee wages."

Was not that a strange thing? And can you think how happy the baby's mother was? For now the baby would be known only as the princess's adopted child, and would be safe.

And it was so. The mother kept him until he was old enough to be taken to the princess's palace. Then he was brought and given to the king's daughter, and he became her son. And she named him Moses.

But the strangest part of the whole story is, that when Moses grew to be a man he became so strong and wise that it was he who at last saved his people from the king and conquered the Egyptians. The one child saved by the king's own daughter was the very one the king would most have wanted to kill, if he had known.

"Would someone tell me where we're going?" asked Kyle. He and four friends were trudging up a steep slope covered with trees which were thick with late spring leaves. "My folks expect me home for supper," he added.

"There's plenty of time," said his friend, Zac, who was leading. "There!" he exclaimed, pointing to the top of the hill lined with bunches of rhododendron. "Follow me!"

Kyle crouched to follow Zac. They ran up to the bushes and slithered under the twisted branches. Mindy and Beth, two girls in the group, and Zac's brother, Griff, squeezed in after them. Under cover of the leaves they peered down the slope on the other side. Not far below was a stone house nestled in a small meadow beside a curving stream.

"Griff and I came here lots of times to spy on the witch," said Zac. "She was always out there at the stream working on something. Probably gathering stuff for her spells."

"But she died months ago!" said Mindy, who was sprawled out beside Kyle.

"And those witch stories were made up," added Kyle. "My dad said she was just a hermit who didn't like other people."

"Well, I agree with Zac," said Griff. "She was weird. One evening just before dark, we saw her come out and build a fire on the bank. Then she just sat there staring at it."

"Look, someone's down there now!" exclaimed Beth. The kids watched as a woman and a girl their age appeared and stood beside the stream. The woman seemed to give instructions and then went back into the house. The girl climbed down the bank of the stream and started to pick at a pile of rocks.

"It's a new witch and her apprentice," whispered Mindy. "Wonder what she's doing?"

"I've seen her!" said Kyle. "She's a new girl at school."

"Well, I'm staying away from anyone who lives in a witch's house," said Beth.

"Watch this," said Griff. He slithered out from under the bush, picked up a small rock, and threw it down at the girl. It landed with a loud crack right at the hands of the girl. She jumped back in fright.

"Hey, you could have hit her," protested Kyle. But the others weren't paying attention. They were squealing and giggling as they pushed themselves out from under the leaves and ran in the other direction.

Kyle lay still a moment, but then he crawled out from under the bushes. Instead of following the other kids, though, he climbed down the slope toward the girl. She stared at him, obviously still afraid. She looked like she was going to run away.

"Don't go!" said Kyle as he approached her. "I'm really sorry. Sometimes my friends are real crumbs."

The girl looked uncertain, but stood her ground. "I couldn't see anyone," she said breathlessly. "I thought it was a ghost."

Kyle laughed as he jumped down the stream bank to her side. "My friends thought you were a witch's apprentice." He looked down at her. She was skinny, with a freckled face. "My name's Kyle Geiter," he added.

"I'm Donna Lilley," she answered, smiling slightly. Then she frowned. "The kids around here aren't very friendly," she said, hunching her shoulders.

Kyle looked down at the ground. "They think the lady who used to live here was a witch or something," he said.

"Aunt Babs had a mental problem," said Donna, "but I'm sure she wasn't a witch."

Kyle glanced up at her. "Golly, I didn't know she was your aunt."

"Great-aunt," said Donna. "She was my grandmother's sister." As she talked, Donna picked up a rock and crammed it into the stream bank. When Kyle asked what she was doing, she answered, "Keeping the stream. That's what Aunt Babs called it. You build up the stream bank so it doesn't wash away. It happens every time it rains."

Kyle waved his arm. "There's a big lake near here," he said. "It overflows and floods the streams." Kyle began to pick up rocks and set them in the bank the way he saw Donna do it. He noticed where there were no rocks that big clumps of dirt had fallen down into the stream. The grass and wild flowers were coated with mud.

"We visited Aunt Babs once in a while," said Donna, "before she died and left us this house." After placing a rock on top of Kyle's, she added, "My aunt had a real thing about preserving the stream. Even after she got sick." Donna grimaced. "This is my special chore now. Mom and Dad want me to keep up her special project."

"Hey!" shouted Kyle, pointing. "I just saw some fish swim by! Maybe that's why your aunt wanted to keep the stream nice. My friends said she built fires on the bank. Why was that?"

"That's where she was really strange," answered Donna. "She'd come out here and burn brush, but only at a certain time in the evening. Mom says it was the time her parents died in a fire. Aunt Babs lived with them at the time, but she got out safely."

"Maybe it was some sort of ritual and it made her feel better," said Kyle. "And the water close by made her feel safe."

Donna shrugged her shoulders. "She wouldn't have any fires in the house, not even in the fireplace," she said. "And she'd never have a gas stove, only an electric one."

Kyle shook his head. "Wonder why she never made friends with other people?" But before Donna could answer, he noticed how low the sun was in the sky. "I gotta get going," he exclaimed. As he jumped up the bank, he looked back at her. "Maybe I'll see you at school on Monday."

Donna just gave him a sad smile and turned back to her work. When a voice called to her from the house, she scrambled up the bank and darted away. Kyle watched her thoughtfully and then headed home. Instead of going back up to the woods, he jogged down the road that led away from the Lilley house. It was getting dark and he was late!

As he turned a corner, he yelped when a bunch of bodies jumped out of the bushes on to the road and surrounded him. It was the gang lying in wait for him. Kyle folded his arms and rolled his eyes when they bounced around him, making signs of the cross. "Protect poor Kyle from the witch's spell," they chanted.

"Don't be stupid," said Kyle irritably. "I have to get home."

"Hey, we're just kidding," said Griff. "I'm sorry I threw the rock. I didn't expect my aim to be that good!"

"Don't forget it's our turn to pick a place tomorrow," said Mindy. "Wait until you see it. We found it in the woods by accident. Come prepared to get wet!"

Kyle looked at her. "The girl who lives back there. Her name is Donna and she's nice. What if we invite her to come with us? It must be hard to be new in town and not know anyone."

Beth made a face. "We don't want strangers to see our special place," she said.

"She won't be a stranger if we get to know her," said Kyle.

But the others were not enthusiastic. "We don't need anyone else," said Zac. That remark seemed to settle it. Kyle watched as they all took off in different directions. He shook his head and continued his jog home.

The next day, after coming home from church, Kyle considered not showing up to meet the gang, but then decided he might as well. No matter how they acted, they were still his friends. As he headed toward their meeting place at the edge of the woods, it started to drizzle. But it a warm day, so Kyle kept going. When he arrived at the spot, the gang seemed relieved to see him. "We thought maybe you were mad at us," said Mindy.

Kyle shrugged. "Okay, where's this special place you told us about?" He looked at the sky. "Looks like we don't have to go there to get wet."

Mindy laughed and darted off. The kids followed her into the woods. She took them downhill this time. It seemed like they went down forever until they were deep in a valley. The trees were so thick Kyle couldn't even tell if it was still raining. At the bottom of a ravine, Mindy stopped and triumphantly pointed out her secret place. It was a pool of water almost four feet deep in spots. On both sides were steep, rocky walls. It was a wild-looking place, littered with rocks and muddy vegetation. The kids exclaimed in pleasure as they slid down the bank and waded into the water.

Kyle jumped in with the others and swam around the pool. Shaking the water out of his dark hair after Zac ducked him, he looked around. It was a great place but something about it made him uneasy. He wasn't sure what it was. He swam to a rock and climbed up on it. A large board lay on the rock. There was also a pole driven into the rock. The board must have once been attached to it.

"Hey, can anybody read this sign?" he called. The letters on the sign were mostly worn away. Griff and Beth splashed over and climbed up beside him.

"That looks like the letters ANG," said Griff. "And that's ASH and OD below it."

"The first could say DANGER," said Beth. "She looked around nervously.

Griff scoffed at her. "Well, the letters can't spell NO TRESPASSING so it's no problem."

"What's the big discussion about?" shouted Zac from the pool.

Kyle waved him over and was about to explain when, suddenly, a muffled roar sounded through the woods. "What was that!" he said, startled. He looked up but couldn't see the sky through the thick leaves and pine needles. "You don't suppose it's thunder, do you?"

"Sounded more like something collapsing," said Mindy. She cocked her head. "Listen, the sound's getting closer."

Kyle gasped. Suddenly he knew what bothered him about the place. The bank looked exactly like the caved-in stream at Donna Lilley's place-- only much bigger! "Danger, flash flood!" he shouted. "That's what the sign says. We gotta get out of here now!"

Pushing and pulling at the others, he dove through the water and scrambled up the steep rocky slope beside the pool. The wet slippery rocks made everyone's feet slide out from under them. By the time they reached the top of the cliff, all of them were scraped and bruised.

And they got there just in time.

Wide-eyed, they watched as a wave of churning water came gushing down the narrow ravine. What made it so deadly was all the tree limbs, rocks, and other debris that swirled out in front of it. It could easily have crushed anyone in its path. Finally, it calmed down, but the pool was now a lot deeper than four feet!

After staring at it, Zac gulped. "Thank God," he said. "And thanks, Kyle, for being so observant."

"Don't thank me," answered Kyle. "You should thank Donna Lilley. She's the one who showed me."

"Then you should thank me," said Griff with a nervous laugh. "I threw the stone that made you go meet her."

"If we'd made friends with her instead of throwing things at her," growled Kyle, "she would have been with us today, and we wouldn't have gotten the scare of our lives."

"Let's argue about it later," said Beth. "All I want to do right now is go home!" She got up and hurried off through the woods . The others quickly followed.

That night, Kyle didn't sleep good. He kept thinking about the flash flood and about Donna Lilley. At school the next day, Kyle looked for her. He didn't find her, though, until the end of the day when he spotted her coming out of the girls' locker room. He was surprised to see Mindy and Beth were with her. They waved when they saw him. "We told Donna all about our near disaster," said Mindy. "We invited her to come with us next weekend."

Beth leaned close to Kyle. "We felt bad about what you said yesterday," she whispered. "We decided new friends are a good idea!"

After the two girls said goodbye and hurried toward their classroom, Donna smiled shyly at Kyle. "I tried to stay home from school, but mom made me come this afternoon," she said. "Now I'm glad she did."

Before Kyle could answer, Griff popped around the corner. "I've been looking for you," he said to Donna. "I'm really sorry about throwing a rock at you." He looked at Kyle. "Zac and I are going to make a new sign for that pool Mindy found," he added. "In case someone else stumbles on it."

"That's a good idea!" said Kyle.

After he rushed away. Kyle smiled at Donna. "How about if I come and help you build your stream bank again some time."

Donna laughed. "You're all becoming keepers of the stream just like my crazy Aunt Babs!"

"She wasn't crazy," said Kyle. "Just different."

"I found out something about Aunt Babs," confided Donna. "After you left the other day, I was complaining to my folks about her. That's when they told me. They said it was Aunt Babs who accidentally set the fire that killed her parents!"

"Golly, imagine how she must have felt!" exclaimed Kyle. "No wonder she acted strange."

"I wish I had known sooner," said Donna sadly. After a moment, she gave a timid smile. "You know, there's a new boy in my class. He seems lonely. Do you suppose..."

"Absolutely!" said Kyle. "We'll invite him to come with us this weekend."

Donna laughed. "We'll be keepers of the stream in all kinds of ways," she said. "And I'm going to believe that Aunt Babs is in heaven smiling."

Copyright (c) 1998 by Letitia L. Zook
This work may be copied and distributed freely, but only in its entirety, including this copyright notice, and without any changes.

"You've been very quiet tonight, Laly," Mama said as I grabbed the last sack of dirty dishes from the car. "Didn't you enjoy the Food Faire?"

"Yes, Mama," I said. "I liked it."

"Don't you feel well, hija? Did something upset your stomach?"

"No, Mama. I'm okay."

Mama's face crinkled into a frown as she swung the kitchen door open. I ducked under her arm, put the sack on the counter and slipped back out the door. I took a deep breath, sat down and listened. No voices. No questions. No sisters.

I'm glad we're learning to cook; but it makes me mad when Becky tells me how to do everything. I can read directions. She acts so haughty just 'cause she's the oldest. Especially now that she's advanced to Juniors. Not my fault I won't be promoted till next year. She didn't have to make fun of me. If the troop leaders chose by ability I'd be there now too. Girl Scouts aren't going to be fun anymore. Maybe I'll quit.

The Food Faire was fun though. The hall was so bright and cheery. The "Food From Around The World" banner really stood out. Mrs. Collings said that decorating the booths in each country's colors complemented the various dishes. Mama said I had a good idea and she was proud of me for making the suggestion. There was some stuff I hadn't tasted before. Like the sushi Sammi's mother made. That was kind of strange. Raw fish rolled with rice! Probably wouldn't have tried it if I'd known what it was. The frittata was better. It looked like Italy's flag with the red, green and white chunks in it.

"Where's Laly?" I could hear Chuki through the window.

"Oh, no," I muttered. "The walking question mark."

"I groaned and jumped up, looking for escape.

What a pest! Jabber--jabber--jabber. Trailing behind me all the time with her questions. Really boring. Where does she get them all? What's it going to be like when she starts Brownies this fall? I can't shut her up now! I'll be stuck with babies, just like Becky said.

The screen door slammed behind me.

"Mama made lemonade," Chuki said, handing me a frosty glass.

Darn. No escape now.

"Where you going? Can I go with you?"

"Nowhere," I grumbled and sat back down again.

"When do I start Brownies, Laly?"

"Next month." I sighed. "After school starts."

"I'm glad I'm in your troop. I'd be scared if I wasn't."

"Scared?"

"Uh, huh. Don't know anybody. Weren't you glad Becky was there when you started?"

I thought awhile. "Yeah, Chuk. Yeah, guess I was."

"Can you show me how to make twisty bows?"

"Sure," I said, opening the door. "Come on."

"Laly," Becky said the minute we came into the kitchen. "It was mean what I said. I'm sorry."

"Forget it. No big deal."

"Wish you'd have been promoted, too. I'll miss you."

"Really?"

Wow! Miss me? Wow!

"Are you feeling better, mija?" Mama called from the next room.

"Yes, Mama. A whole lot better."

"Can I make bows now?" Chuki asked. "In lots of colors?"

I grinned at her. "Why not?"

Oh, well. A year isn't that long.

© September 1994-99
This story was used with the permission of the author.
You can email CV Brown or visit
"The FictionWriter's Homepage"

It is said that the day before he died, Jesus ate a meal with his friends, called a Seder. It was the first night of the Jewish holiday of Passover, and the rituals performed at this meal are learned by most Jewish children. Jesus learned them too, for he was born a Jew.

Each year, at the Passover suppers around the world, the story of Moses and the Pharaoh is retold.

God sent Moses to Egypt to free the Jewish people. They were being held as slaves by Pharaoh, the ruler of that land.

Pharaoh had refused to set the Jews free. To punish the Pharaoh, God made terrible things happen in Egypt. One time, their rivers turned to blood. Another time, frogs overran the land. Then the Lord sent stinging bugs. Moses was afraid Pharaoh would never set the Jewish people free. God was furious Pharaoh had not already set them free.

At last God said to Moses, "Tell the Jewish people that this night I will send the Angel of Death through Egypt to kill the firstborn sons of the Egyptians. Tell the Jews to dip a leafy branch in the blood of a lamb, and smear the blood on the doorposts of their homes. The Angel of Death will see the mark and pass over their homes.

According to the Bible, on that night Pharaoh's son died, along with all the other firstborn Egyptian sons. But the Jewish children were spared. That did it! Pharaoh begged Moses to lead the Jews out of Egypt.

It is sad to realize that the Passover supper, this ritual of freedom that Jesus celebrated, was the last supper he would eat before he was arrested and lost his own freedom.