A Letter Home To Rome'

My dearest Claudia, For eighteen months, I've been at this Jerusalem outpost. "Tis you and young Julius that I miss the most. This wasn't the adventure I set out to seek- At least, not until this past week' A local rabbi rode a donkey into town, While people were throwing palm branches down. Many proclaimed Him to be their "King." The Jewish leaders vehemently denied such a thing' They arrested Him and a riot ensued; My squad was called in to get the masses subdued. Back and forth, they sent Him- through several mock trials. The prisoner maintained His silence all the while. "He's a traitor to Rome," the priest and leaders cried. And the crowd wanted Him crucified' A "Royal robe" they made Him wear Then His own cross He was forced to bear. With a thorny crown jammed down upon His head, It was off to Golgotha He was led. Lifted up between two thieves, The day turned black and I wanted to leave' Then I heard my Centurion say something very odd: "Truly this is the Son of God'" Buried in a borrowed grave- as if in a womb- I and my men guarded that tomb. Then some time during the middle of the night, The rock was rolled back 'midst a blinding light' In the morning some woman came to that "prison," But two beings inside said "He has Risen'" This week's events have so drastically changed my life. That I was compelled to tell you of them, my beloved wife. Your Husband Octavius Arthur Ball (h.S.L.P.) April 16, 2006