Peter

I’m the one who followed Jesus, when the soldiers arrested Him that night. I wanted to see for myself where they took him, when the Lord did not want me to fight. I followed them from afar, then, as they led my Lord away to be tried, Knowing in my heart, the trial would be a farce, for He had said, He would be crucified. I stood in the outer courtyard, and, as I was warming by the fire, a little maid accused me of being with him, and out of fear, I became a liar. Twice more that night, I denied Him. When the cock crowed thrice, He looked at me. He did not accuse me- He looked at me with love, then I ran away so no one could see. What shame I felt that I had denied the Master, as he suffered alone. I will never forget the look of love on his face, He who died willingly, for our sins to atone.