The funeral comes out from the other side of the walls. It is not possible to see what there is on the stretcher, which is carried shoulder high by the bearers. One understands that there is a corpse, wrapped in bandages and covered by a sheet, only because of its outline and that it is the body of a fully grown person, because it is as long as the stretcher.
A veiled woman is walking beside it, weeping, supported by relatives or friends. The only sincere tears in all that farce of mourners. And when a bearer trips on a stone or heap in the ground or stumbles and causes the stretcher to shake, the mother moans: «Oh! No! Be careful! My boy has suffered so much!» and she raises her trembling hand to caress the edge of the stretcher. And as she is unable to do anything else, she kisses the veils and the ribbons, which blown by a gentle breeze lightly touch the immobile corpse.
Peter, sympathetic, his good keen eyes welling up with tears whispers: «She is the mother.» But he is not the only one whose eyes are shining with tears at the sight. Also the Zealot, Andrew, John, and even the ever merry Thomas have tears in their eyes. They are all deeply moved. Judas Iscariot whispers: «If it were I! Oh! Poor mother of mine…»
189.2
Jesus, the kindness of Whose eyes is so deep as to be unbearable, makes His way towards the stretcher.
The mother, who is now sobbing louder because the funeral is about to turn towards the open sepulchre, pushes Him aside resolutely, when she sees that Jesus wants to touch the stretcher. I wonder what she is afraid of in her grief. She shouts: «He is mine!» and looks at Jesus with staring eyes.
«I know, mother. He is yours.»
«He is my only son! Why should he die, he was so good and dear, he was my joy, and I am a widow. Why?» The crowd of the hired mourners mourn more loudly, forming a chorus with the mother who continues: «Why he, and not I? It is not just that she who has borne a child, should see her offspring perish. The offspring must live, otherwise why was my womb torn to give birth to a man?» and she strikes her abdomen wildly and desperately.
«Do not do that! Do not weep, mother.» Jesus takes her hands clenching them firmly in His left hand, while with His right one He touches the stretcher saying to the bearers: «Stop and put the stretcher down.»
The bearers obey and lower the little bed that rests on its four legs.
Jesus takes the sheet covering the dead boy and pulls it back uncovering the corpse.
The mother shouts her grief and the name of her son, I think: «Daniel!»
Jesus, still clenching the mother’s hands in His, stands up, His eyes imposingly bright, the power of miracle shining majestically on His face, lowering His right hand, orders in the full strength of His voice: «Young man! I tell you: get up!»
189.3
The dead boy, wrapped in bandages as he is, sits up on the little bed and calls: «Mother!» He calls her with the stammering frightened voice of a terrified child.
«He is yours, woman. I give him to you in the name of God. Help him to get rid of the sudarium. And be happy.»
And Jesus makes the gesture of withdrawing. Impossible! The crowds rivet Him to the stretcher, on which the mother has thrown herself groping for the bandages, endeavouring to be quick, while the imploring childish moaning repeats: «Mother! Mother!»
The sudarium and bandages are undone and mother and son can embrace each other, and they do so without bothering about the sticky balms, which the mother removes from his dear face and hands, making use of the same bandages. As she has not clothes to put on him, she takes off her mantle and wraps him in it, caressing him all the time…
189.4
Jesus looks at her… he looks at the loving group, close together on the edge of the little bed, no longer a stretcher, and He weeps.
Judas Iscariot sees His tears and asks: «Why are You weeping, my Lord?»
Jesus turns His face towards him and says: «I am thinking of My Mother…»