Pardon this mother,
sir,
but I’m not leaving.
Most people seem to think He came to the world looking like that:
a grown thirty-three-year-old man with a mission to accomplish.
Well, it wasn’t like that.
Yes,
He had a mission before he was even born,
but He came to this world out of me,
a little baby like any of you,
and I nourished Him as a mother before any of you followed Him
as a leader.
So pardon me,
sir,
if I’m not following your order,
but I will not leave Him now.
Do you really think it was easy for me?
I knew He was special.
I had messengers telling me so,
but for me He was my son.
Before any woman had thoughts of cleaning His feet
with her hair,
I cleaned His wounds with my tears.
Every scratch from every fall He had as a child,
He came to me for my comforting words that the
pain was going to pass soon.
I can not say that to Him today.
But I’m not leaving, sir.
I’ve always supported His decisions.
I knew He was a loan,
that I had to give Him to the world,
but I can not deny I had the hope that His path would
be easy and painless
(and I’m not talking about this pain you are causing
Him today, when every nail you put in Him went
straight through my heart).
I know that today His sufferings will be over and
His mission in the world will be done.
I accepted that a long time ago.
But I wanted to be able to stop the betrayal of the
people he loved,
the people He came here willingly to save.
But I couldn’t.
What I can do,
sir,
is stay by his side.
One more time,
I can be a supporter of His greatness.
So don’t come,
mister,
telling me I shouldn’t.
Don’t pity me.
I’m strong.
I’m going to be with my son until He dies.
