Mary's Story

By Ron Francis

Mary's Story by Ron Francis

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• Language: English
• Publisher: Covenant Books, Inc.
• Release date: Jul 8, 2022
• ISBN: 9781685261122

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Mary’s Story

Ron Francis

ISBN 978-1-68526-111-5 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-68526-112-2 (Digital)

Copyright © 2022 Ron Francis

All rights reserved

First Edition

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Covenant Books, Inc.

11661 Hwy 707

Murrells Inlet, SC 29576

www.covenantbooks.com

Table of Contents

No Crib for His Bed

Two Teachers for Jesus

The Caravan

Leaven

The Tower

Beelah

Beelah’s Bell

David and Goliath

The Roman Soldier

The Old Rabbi

The Temple

Beelah in Peril

The Fence

Jasmine in Danger

Ramir’s Story

Mirianna’s Healing

Rejection

The River Jordan

About His Father’s Business

Charge of the Little Flock

The Last Visit Home

The Beginning of the End

Beelah’s Bell

Recently, an ancient scroll of major significance was found in the caves at Qumran. The scroll contained writings about the childhood and early years of Jesus. It was written by Mary, the mother of Jesus. It has come to be known as Mary’s Story.

The old woman was sitting inconspicuously in the corner of the small adobe house. The only light came through the door opening, as there were no windows in the room. Since evening was coming on, the room was darker than light. The old woman was barefoot, resting her feet on the dirt floor. Her attire was tattered and worn, suggesting she was a poor beggar woman. The only other person in the room was a much younger girl of about twenty years. The wrinkled face and grey hair on the old woman gave away the fact that she was old and tired from the hard life she had endured throughout her life. Yet this old woman was no ordinary woman.

The Roman soldiers were looking for her in an effort to stamp out and crush a movement which had started many years before and was gaining momentum throughout Palestine. The soldiers had been given orders to kill every old woman they could find in the hope that one would be the old woman they were searching for. A similar order had been given many years before to kill all the babies in Palestine in the hope that one of those killed would be the prophesied King of the Jews, whom the Romans viewed as a threat to their rule.

There was a commotion in the courtyard. The sound of horses and men and armor could be heard. Suddenly, the door of the adobe house flew open, and four Roman soldiers rushed into the room. They quickly checked out the younger girl, and then one of the soldiers walked over to the old woman. He quickly grabbed her by her hair and threw her to the ground. As he drew his sword from the sheath, he said to his captain, She is about the right age. I don’t know if she is the one, but if I kill her now, we might just have gotten lucky.

He moved the sharp side of the sword’s blade near to the old woman’s throat. As he was just about to take the old woman’s life, the captain said, Hold!

The captain walked over and checked out the old woman from head to toe. He then looked into her eyes for a brief second and said, We have killed enough old women today. This one is of no consequence. Spare her life and let us be on our way.

The four Roman soldiers left the house, mounted their horses, and rode away. The old woman tried to get back up and sit down but needed help from the girl. The younger girl lit a candle and placed it on the table near the old woman. After she sat down and rested from her ordeal, the old woman continued speaking to the younger girl who served as a scribe and wrote down on a scroll every word the old woman uttered.

And these are the words she spoke:

I am Mary, the wife of Joseph and the mother of Jesus. I am blessed above all other women. Although Joseph, my husband, raised Jesus and cared for him and loved him and taught him many things, Joseph was not the real father of Jesus. God is. John, Mark, Luke, and Matthew, all followers of Jesus, have written accounts of the ministry of Jesus, his miracles, and his death on the cross at the hands of the Romans and his resurrection.

These accounts are well read by our faithful, and I attest to their accuracy and truthfulness.

I feel it my duty to write on this scroll the account of my son’s life in his early years as only a mother can.

Although it has been many years since my son was crucified on the cross and I am now an old woman, yet I know that by the power of God after Jesus was dead, he lived again. I was one of the witnesses to attest that he rose from the dead and was resurrected. He told me and others of the faithful that he will one day come again to establish his kingdom. For this purpose, I have saved his most cherished earthly possession, Beelah’s bell, for him to have again when he returns. You see, Beelah was Jesus’s lamb, the bell sheep of his tiny flock as he was growing up. Jesus loved Beelah, and once he said to me, as I was tucking him into bed, that Beelah is the lamb of Jesus as Jesus is the Lamb of God. My son gave this bell to me on the day he was crucified and asked that I keep it safe until the day he would return and have it back. I have carried the bell with me day and night for these many years, hoping that I would be able to return it to my son when he comes again. But as my time is coming to leave this mortal world, I am entrusting Beelah’s bell to Ramir, my husband’s brother, who also knew Jesus. Ramir is very old also, but he has sons and grandsons of the finest character whom I have asked to keep the bell safe and pass it down from father to son until the day Jesus comes again. As my time permits with the ravages of old age fast approaching, I would now like to tell my story of Jesus and Beelah and Beelah’s bell.

No Crib for His Bed

Joseph was a carpenter living in Nazareth. His reputation for being an honest man and doing good quality work was well known throughout Nazareth. I also lived in Nazareth, and one day, I went to see Joseph to ask him to make me a small pretty box I could put my necklaces in. I liked Joseph, and after that first meeting, we saw each other often. I was impressed that he was a strong, kind, and loving man. In time, we became betrothed to be married.

During the time we were betrothed, before we were married, a strange and wonderful thing happened to me. An angel of the Lord appeared to me and told me that Joseph would not be the father of my firstborn son. The angel said that God would be the father and that I was honored above all other women because I would be the mother of the Son of God. After some time had passed, it became obvious to Joseph that I was with child. Joseph knew that he was not the father, and this grieved him very much. Joseph loved me, but for a time, he felt bound by the custom of our people that he could no longer be betrothed to me. Joseph was a good man, and he worried not about what people would think of him, but what would become of me. Then one night, an angel of the Lord came to Joseph in a dream and spoke to him. The angel told Joseph that God was the father of my baby and that Joseph had been chosen by God to be the baby’s earthly father. The angel also told Joseph that he should marry me as soon as possible, and that after we were married, I would have a son sent by God and that we should name him Jesus. Joseph was a very religious man, and he was honored that God had chosen him to be the earthly father of Jesus. Joseph and I were married, even though I was heavy with child.

All the land of Palestine was part of the Roman Empire and ruled by the Emperor Caesar Augustus. The Romans decreed that all citizens of the Roman Empire should be taxed. To be certain that no one escaped their taxes, the Romans decreed that everyone should return to their hometown and villages to be counted in the Roman census. Because both Joseph and I were descendants of the royal family of King David, we returned to Bethlehem, the place where King David was born.

It was with much effort that Joseph and I travelled from Nazareth to Bethlehem. I rode on the back of our donkey while Joseph walked in front, leading us along the smoothest parts of the road. I was heavy with child, and I often grew weary and needed many stops along the way to rest. When we finally reached Bethlehem, the town was filled with thousands of people like us who had come from great distances like Galilee and Samaria to be counted in the Roman census. Joseph and I were relieved to finally reach Bethlehem, as we knew the baby was almost ready to be born; however, after we had searched for hours for a place to stay and had found nothing because of the crowded conditions, I became very worried and upset. My body was telling me the baby would be born soon. I could not bear the thought of having no place to lie down to give birth to my child.

Right there, in the busy commotion of the street, Joseph and I said a prayer to God that we needed his help to find a suitable place to go and stay for the night. We had no sooner finished praying than Joseph began to lead us down the street. We walked past every building and then came to an inn. We went inside and talked to the owner. He was a kind man, and he too became concerned that I was about to give birth and had no