On that Early Morning

As I sit here today, Jesus, I am reflecting on the scene as I visualize it at the tomb.

    It is early morning. Mists are drifting about like delicate cobwebs, and golden lights stab the East as the sun flings out great arms like a sleeper stretching as he awakes. A celestial being, beautiful to behold, approaches the tomb. He is all in white. Effortlessly he moves aside the stone covering the entrance. A brilliant light suffuses the interior.         Then suddenly, Jesus strides forth into the open — our Jesus! His face is alight, His eyes bright and eager. He throws back His head and breathes deeply of the fresh morning air. Then He smiles — softly.

    “Mother,” He calls, “I come to you. See! I have risen!”

    Before Him, now she stands. She holds wide her arms. Her eyes, too, are bright with glory.

    Ah! Beautiful Lady! Mary! Fairer than all that is fair!