Here is a man….

Here is a man who was born in an obscure village, the child of a peasant woman. He worked in a carpenter’s shop until He was thirty. And then for three years He was an itinerant teacher. He never wrote a book. He never went to college. He never had a home. He never had a family. He never travelled two hundred miles from the place He was born. He had nothing to do with this world except the power of his divine manhood. While still a young man the tide of popular opinion turned against him. His friends ran away. One of them denied him. He was turned over to his enemies. He went through the mockery of a trial. He was nailed on a cross between two thieves. His executioners gambled for the only property He had on earth, while he was dying, his coat. When He was dead He was taken down and laid in a borrowed grave through the pity of a friend. Twenty wide centuries have come and gone, today He is the centre piece of the human race, the leader of the column of progress.      Anon