1968

"We later saw Larus again in Damascus.  The road was clear of difficulties and curiously, we didn't see any Roman soldiers.  Not a single one.  We went straight to the market where Thaddai's mother worked as a seller of wheat and barley as well as milled flour and baked loaves of bread.  She could hardly believe her eyes when she saw her beautiful son appear in the tent where she sat behind a table beneath an awning.  I could tell right away that his beautiful looks favoured her, and even in middle age she was a woman who would merit at least a second look. With a wild, jubilant cry tearing from her throat she sprang up and hurled herself at her child, engulfing him in a prolonged ecstatic and weeping embrace.  I thought she would never let him go again...