“He’s dead, Benjamin. The rumors are true. Jesus is dead.”
Benjamin felt his old legs weaken. He sat on the ground near the shore of Galilee’s sea where he and Jesus would sit and talk.
When they met, Benjamin was sitting. He had cut his foot on a sharp stone. It was a deep cut, a painful cut.
“You’ve hurt your foot, ” Jesus said, approaching Benjamin from behind. “Can I help you?”
“No. My home is a short walk from here. An hour or so. I’ll be fine. It’s just a cut.”
Jesus smiled. “But even a pebble in a man’s sandal can cause much pain. Here, let me help you.”
Before Benjamin could refuse, Jesus had placed his shoulder beneath Benjamin’s arm and lifted him up.
“There,” said Jesus.” we shall walk together.” And they did.
Days later, Jesus met Benjamin again, near the shores of Galilee. They spoke for a moment. Smiled and laughed. Then again, they met, both men always happy to see the other. They spoke about their joys and troubles. Soon, their good-byes became plans to meet again, to talk, to laugh.
“Benjamin, this Jesus you knew. Was he the Christ as he claimed? No! How could that be. Do you believe he was God?”
“He was my friend, my good friend,” said Benjamin.
“Then mourn for your friend, Benjamin. That is your right, old man”
That day Benjamin did mourn. He did cry. He did touch Jesus with his heart and Jesus touch Benjamin with His.