1772

"You already had a few choice monickers for me in our old Aramaice", says Jesus, still smiling. "And I'm sure that you remember every single one of them", rejoins the old crone . "And every single word I have long ago forgiven, Mother", he says. "You are most kind, my Lord", says his mother with a curious mix of reverence, sarcasm, and, could this be camp? And now, both mother and son are laughing merrily while the old Joseph stoicly looks on. Then he says, "Please let this old man in on your joke." Jesus says, "I am just picturing all those millions, no, billions of faithful Roman Catholics, etcetera, so faithfully and devoutly praying with their little rosaries to my dear mother here, visualizing a sweet, rather dumb-looking, young girl wearing a blue bedspread, and never imagining not even for one moment how choicely and succinctly she could swear at me in our old Aramaic. Hilarious! And mother, they could hear you screaming at me throughout the whole blessed village." "Meanwhile, my Lord", she says, "I believe the focus right now is still on this young man here. Lawrence." "How like my mother", he says. "Always the first to want to help."