"Mary!" Joseph called.
"Yes, my love?" she responded.
"Could you bring me some water? It's hot, working on the table for John and Martha."
Mary brought the water pitcher and smiled at her husband. He worked so hard every day. Even as an old man, Joseph was the best carpenter in Nazareth. His long, gray beard got in his way sometimes, and right now, it was draped comically over his shoulder. He wiped the sweat off his brow and turned to his wife.
"Thank you, Mary. I needed a break from this heat, and your smiling face cheered me right up."
Mary blushed. "In my old age, it's a wonder you still find me attractive."
"You're the most perfect woman I've ever known. It's no surprise the Lord chose you to bear Jesus."
"I am blessed by the memory of my eldest son. Oh, how I miss him!"
"Where has that boy gone?" Joseph asked.
"The last news I heard said he was traveling with some friends near Jerusalem."
Joseph sighed and thought back to the days of Jesus' childhood. He was such a perfect boy. Of course, Joseph loved his other children, but Jesus was so smart, quick to help, generous…
Joseph was snapped back to reality by a knock on his workshop door. His friend John entered and examined the table Joseph was working on. His eyes widened as he surveyed the exquisite craftsmanship.
"This is amazing, my friend! Incredible!" John cried.
"I'm not quite finished sealing the joints, John. I should be done by evening meal."
"I'm indebted to you, my friend. I'll have Martha bring you some of her special stew tomorrow. I'm going hunting in the morning."
"Thank you, John. You are a true friend."
John left, and Joseph finished the table quickly. After their hearty meal of rabbit, bread, and water, Joseph and Mary retired to their pallet. As Joseph lay there, stroking his wife's hair, his thoughts drifted to his son in Jerusalem. He had a strange feeling he would see Jesus again soon.
Jesus turned and looked at his closest friends in the light of the campfire. The eleven seated there had followed him faithfully. Mark, Matthew, Luke, John, Simon… they looked around, trying to find Judas. He had disappeared.
"My friends," Jesus said. "My time is near. Tomorrow, we enter Jerusalem."
When Mary awoke in the morning, the house was still. She heard no hammering from the workshop. Looking outside, she noticed the sun high in the sky. Why wasn't Joseph awake yet? He always got up at dawn. Thinking it was just his age catching up to him, she didn't worry. She turned to him and gently shook his shoulders. He didn't move. Leaning in close to kiss him awake, she noticed he wasn't breathing.
"Joseph! My Joseph! Oh God, please don't take him now! Don't take my love from me! Joseph! Please wake up!" she cried out in anguish. Tears streaming down her face, she held her husband's body close to her and prayed.
"There is an ass tied just inside the gate. Bring it to me. If anyone asks you why you are taking it, tell them, 'The Lord has need of it,'" Jesus told his disciples. He sat back against a tree and looked at the sky. He talked to his Father as he awaited the return of his friends.
The Romans came to Mary that afternoon. They took her money, her food, and everything else she had in her home. As a woman, she had no rights to property. They took it all. She sobbed as they sorted through Joseph's tools. They picked through them and chose what to keep.
"Oh, please!" she cried. "Leave his hammer be! Don't take the hammer! Do you not see his name on the handle? His first hammer! Oh please!"
They put the tools with the money and food and took them as an offering to Caesar. Mary followed silently, plans forming in her mind to find Jesus in Jerusalem. If anyone could help her, her firstborn could.
Judas entered the garden, soldiers following him silently. He walked up to Jesus and kissed him on the cheek.
"Greetings, Master!"
"Judas," Jesus said calmly. "Do what you have come to do."
John stood in shocked silence at the horrible scene before him. The soldiers led his best friend away.
Mary arrived in Jerusalem the next day. She searched the city for signs of a familiar face. Entering the temple area, she saw Jesus' beloved friend John, who had a strange, almost frantic look to him. He explained to her that Jesus had been on trial before Pilate, and they were awaiting the innocent man's sentence.
"People of Jerusalem," a messenger called. "The criminal will be crucified according to your wishes, and Barnabas will be released instead."
A cry of joy rose from the crowd as they cheered the decision. Mary and John stood in silent shock. Holding on to each other for support, they walked to the place where Jesus would soon begin his march to Golgotha.
"Aren't you the king?" taunted some soldiers. Jesus remained silent.
"Defend yourself!" others yelled. Still, no words. Even as one of the men roughly forced a band of braided thorns on his head, Jesus did not speak. The blows rained heavily on his back, and his blood and sweat stung the open wounds. The soldiers threw the cross on his lacerated back and tormented him all the way up the hill.
Mary and John wept as they followed Jesus to Golgotha. John hid her face and held her as a strangely familiar Roman drove nails into her son's hands and feet. As soon as Jesus was raised, they ran to him.
"Man, this is your mother. Mother, this is your son!" Jesus said to John and Mary. Thunderclouds rolled into the sky, darkening the very air the hateful people breathed.
"Eloi, Eloi, lama sabbach thanai?" John heard Jesus whisper. The thunder shook the ground as a small boy held a wine-soaked sponge to Jesus' lips. People huddled in groups for warmth as a chill swept across the hills.
"It is finished!" Looking to heaven, Jesus gave one final cry, and collapsed.
The sky began to pour down rain, and all present could feel the darkness within their souls. Breaking her gaze from the image of her now dead son, Mary spied the hammer and extra nails where the soldiers had left them. With a small cry of recognition, she read the name engraved on the hammer:
"Joseph of Nazareth."