A/N: Before anybody begins yelling at us yes, we know that Brian Jacques chose not to put religion in his books, but we am not Brian Jacques and this is not Redwall. This is our own story based on Redwall. We also marked it AU because having a Jesus character in the story changes the storyline somewhat.

This is actually a multi-way crossover: Redwall, Bible, The Miracle Maker, the Vinci Code (that means Jesus X Mary Magdalene a.k.a Miriam romance in the story, though only by gypsy2008 with only a couple slight references to it in estrellaSMC's chapters, so if you don't like that, don't read gypsy2008's chapters...though if you do, you'll miss out on a more popular and Redwall canon pairing ;-) ), Stones of Jerusalem, Jerusalem's Hope, and Song of the Magdalene (AU). I had to choose two for the categories and Redwall and Bible made the most sense.

By the way, the text taken from the Bible came from a book called 'The Complete Gospels.' It was a book estrellaSMC used in a religious studies class she once took. The language was more like the way people talk in the 21st century. We liked the effect and wanted to use it in the story. Occasionally we will use a different version (for quotes from the Song of Songs). That's because the quote in that version came from the book Song of the Magdalene, and we took it from the book. We will also take parts of the script from the Miracle Maker film, as well as stuff from the Miracle Maker book and the Brock and Bodie Thoene books.

If there is any particular Bible story somebody wants us to Redwallize and put in the story, please let us know in a review. If it's not already a part of the story, we'll see what we can do.

If anybody wants to keep track of who wrote a particular chapter (we don't ever share chapters), just look at the title of the chapter.

Disclaimer: We do not own any of the works in the crossover.

The harewife was old. She leaned on a stick for balance as she adjusted her spectacles and squinted at the cluster of young hares standing before her with eager looks on their faces. "What is it?" she asked.

"Please lady," one of the leverets said, "Would you tell us a story?"

"What?" the harewife raised one ear to hear better.

"A story!" another leveret shouted. "Would you tell us a story?"

"A story, eh?" the harewife chuckled. "Sure. Come on." She led the bunch through the corridors of the mountain of Salamandastron until they came to her to her room and she settled down in a big comfy armchair which the leverets knew was her storytelling chair. They settled down in a semicircle at her footpaws. "The snow outside reminds me of a good one," the harewife said. "A story of love and miracles and about a creature who changed me life."

The leverets bounced eagerly. "Tell it to us!" they chorused.

The harewife chuckled. "Patience young'uns," she said. She grew somber and leaned back in her chair before she began. "I will tell you everything I know. Memories do not arrange themselves obediently in order, an' already I h'am thinking of a garden. It does not belong at the beginning nor is it at the end of me story, but it is there. A garden in the snow. It must have been two seasons later, after all that had happened, an' I went back an' it was covered in snow. Snowflakes wet me fur. I felt joy in that terrible place, because I had never seen snow. This is how 'e surprises me, this is his way. I was happy in the snow, but I was crying at the same time, or was it the ice on me face? There was nothing to fear any more, I knew that, an' there was every reason to feel the happiness that I felt, but I could not banish the image of him going. 'E was leaving me an' going into that place. I saw him an' I have seen him, again an' again, over so many seasons, vanishing into the darkness, leaving me. I remember it as warm an' dark the first time, so dark an' the shine on the leaves somehow, even though there was no moon, an' his face turning. I remember what 'e said to me an' it was summat about that which called me back that winter." She paused and gazed out the window at the winter sea and the falling snowflakes outside before she continued. "There is deep snow here now, drifting up the sides of the mountain. I h'am no longer ignorant of snow. I never dreamt of such a place or the wind gathering goose feathers over the endless grayness. I never imagined the cold an' real snow. Snow that buries. I ken see little an' hear little, an' this is to me advantage. I h'am so far from home now an' even in what I must now call home I h'am lost in whiteness; so memory, even a disobedient memory, has a blank parchment unfolding across the world. I will tell what I ken now because I h'am ignorant of the Day. We are all blinded by our ignorance an' dream of endless time. Isn't that so, even when 'e said there was no telling an' that even 'e did not know? You are likes me, I'm sure. You dream..."