3-Joseph2-A

And We Thought We Knew You:
Soul Journey With the Real Jesus

Joseph-II
WALKING TALL

BC 6
Nazareth, Galilee

�� There is a wedding in the little town of Nazareth, Galilee, in a couple of weeks.� It isn't the kind they'd planned.� Mary is now four months pregnant. [1]

�� The neighbors don't come.� They do not understand.� Instead they gossip.� People think Joseph is crazy for marrying a girl who obviously got pregnant while on vacation with her cousin.

�� A few trusted relatives come.� But they, too, don't understand.� Aunt Elizabeth and Uncle Zachariah are invited, of course, but little John is so tiny.� They dare not travel with a baby that young.

�� Besides, they might attract too much attention.� They can just see the people as the old grey-haired parents travel from town to town on their way across the country.� "She couldn't be a day under seventy," they'd declare.� Then they'd start treating them like a freak ~ people following them everywhere.� Then the physicians would converge on them.� They'd want to analyze Elizabeth's reproductive system.� Zachariah's too.� No, a trip away from home would be out of the question.� They send their regrets.

�� There are no exciting feasts for Mary, no bridegroom parades for Joseph, no running through the streets on their way to the bride's house.� But there is, indeed, a wedding.� And a little reception.�

�� It is a quiet occasion.� Mary is obviously pregnant.� Everyone is obviously embarrassed, but they've loved Mary all her life.� She and her parents try to explain it, but no one seems to understand.� Actually, they don't understand themselves very well.

�� Nevertheless, Mary and Joseph the carpenter are nervously and happily whisked off to wedded bliss.� Then they settle down to wait for God's and Mary's child. [2]�

�� They move into Joseph's little home.� It only has a shop, a small courtyard, and one room.� Mary has trouble finding spots to store things.� So she has to go to the market more than usual.�

�� Joseph insists on going with her.� He will not allow his bride to endure people's malicious remarks alone in the shop or streets.� Insensitive things like, "He's sure not going to look like Joseph."� Callous things like, "Hey, babe!� You available tonight?"� Heartless, stabbing, unbearable things like, "There goes the whore."�

�� When the taunts come, Joseph whispers, "Don't listen to them.� They don't understand."� When the jeers come, Joseph encourages, "This is God's baby.� Some day they will worship him."� When the hurts come, Joseph spurs her on, "Smile, Mary.� Be proud.� Walk tall."

�� Mary's grandmother gives her an old loom.� "I don't use it anymore anyway.� But it's still good.� I made your mother's first baby swaddlings with it. You'll be able to make anything you want on it."

�� So Mary one by one throws away the dingy covers used for bedding and makes new ones.� In their little room she makes a small tapestry to decorate the wall.

�� She goes through Joseph's clothes and mends them.� What she can't mend she throws away.�

�� "Mamma, would you teach me to spin flax into linen one more time?� I think I can get the hang of it this time.� I'm older now.� And could you give me some bolls of cotton.� Joseph's business is just getting off the ground and...."

�� Before long, Mary is making yards and yards of swaddling bands and baby blankets.� For their baby.� The baby that belongs to the three of them - Mary, Joseph, God. [3]

�� Early one evening a clay brick comes hurling in through the closed shop window.

�� Joseph hurries into his shop to find out what has caused the noise.� He sees the brick, picks it up, and realizes something is written on it.� He shines his lamp on it.

�� "And you call yourself God fearing!" is scratched into it.� Under that, the star of David. [4]

�� Booing outside the window.� Then muffled footsteps.�

�� Joseph returns to the courtyard where Mary is humming a song and looking over some of her handiwork.

�� "What was it?"

�� No reply.

�� "Come on," she prods, "what was it?"

�� Still no reply.� She looks up, puts down the little blanket, gets up, and walks over to her protective husband.� Then she see it.� The anger.

�� "What's going on?� Did something fall and break?"��

�� Still nothing.� Instead, Joseph's face gradually distorts and he bangs his fist on the back doorway of his shop.�

�� "Why can't I protect you better?"

�� She draws closer, puts both hands up to his cheeks and turns his head so she can look into his eyes.�

�� "Joseph, what was it?� You've got to tell me."

�� He says nothing.� She backs up and looks at him again.� This time she realizes he is holding something behind his back.

�� "What is it?� Please show me, Joseph."

�� He brings his hand out in front and she sees the brick.� And reads it.

�� She knows she should be strong for her Joseph.� Just like he knows he should be strong for her.� But sometimes it is so hard to do.� Sometimes impossible.

�� The brick falls out of her hand and to the ground.� Mary leans her head on his chest. �Protectively, but not really protectively, he puts his arms around her.

�� Silence.�

�� A deep breath.� Trembling.� A tear that slips down Mary's cheek for the both of them.

�� "Oh, Joseph, I'm so sorry I brought all this on you."

�� "Don't ever say that, Mary," he whispers.� "God has given us an assignment.� We will see it through.� Somehow we will see it through.� Even if the whole town turns against us.� Even the whole world."

�� Silence once more.� Clinging tighter.� Loving deeper.� Trusting even greater.� Then her audible sobs.� Then his inaudible anger.

�� Silence still.

�� Moments later, Joseph turns Mary so she is beside him, and walks with her to a bench.� They sit down.� He pulls her over to him once more.� Her sobbing softens into whimpers.

�� "Oh, God.� Don't let this happen to Mary.� I can take it.� But Mary.� She's too sensitive.� Don't make her go through this.� Give her strength.� What's going on, God?� Things don't make sense right now."

�� He trembles, trying to maintain his masculine control.� A few betraying teardrops make their way slowly down his cheek and onto her shiny black hair.

�� Quiet.� Wondering.� God leans low.� He whispers to them.� They cannot hear.� But they sense it.

�� "Something in the scriptures....� Something....� Where is it?"� Joseph, the typical man, the typical fixer, must find some way to solve their problem.

�� He gently pulls Mary from him, she shifts, then lays her head down on the bench where he has just placed a pillow.� She stares across the courtyard into nothingness.

�� He goes to the other side of the courtyard to get a scripture scroll ~ the part written by the prophets.� He rolls through it.� Rolling and rolling.� Searching.� Searching.� "I know it's in here."

�� Mary hears but does not hear.� "How could God have chosen me, Joseph?� I'm not strong enough to bear the insults."� She shifts, sits up, and stares into a few stars appearing in the early evening sky.�

�� "What will it be like after he's born?� It can only get worse.� What am I going to do, Joseph?� Maybe God made a mistake."

�� "No, Mary.� Here it is.� You and I are in training.� So we can help him."

��"Help him do what?"

�� "I've been reading from that prophet who said you would be a virgin when you conceived him.� Listen to this."� Joseph returns to the bench.� He puts the scroll in his lap, leans Mary's head over on his shoulder, and holds her close.

�� "We loathed him and rebuffed him.� Full of anguish, steeped in heartache.� We turned our backs on him and refused to speak to him whenever he came near.� No one liked him or wanted to be around him." [5]

�� Carefully putting the scroll under the bench, Joseph turns slightly and holds Mary's head so he can look into her eyes once more.� "Don't you see?� It's going to be like this all his life.� We must be ready.� We must learn how to handle the taunts ourselves so we can teach him what to do."

�� "So, what are we supposed to do, Joseph?� Do we report them to the congregation at the synagogue?� Do we try to avoid them?� Do we try to prove God is on our side?"

�� The distortions in her gentle face return and tears gush uncontrollably from a fountain of agony.� She cries aloud.� Out of control.� She stands and walks to the center of the courtyard, shaking her head, hoping it will all go away.

�� "What are we supposed to do, Joseph?"she cries.�"What are we supposed to do?"

�� Silence.� Joseph is reading again.� There has to be an answer to her question.�

�� "Shhhh," he says, getting up and walking over to her.� This is what we are to do.� It's right here.� "He was persecuted and tormented.� Yet he never spoke out." [6]

�� Joseph reads a little farther silently.� He decides not to read it to Mary.� She's not ready for it.� The part where he will be executed some day.� Joseph doesn't like what he is reading.� Surely he can protect God's son better than that.� Can Joseph change the course of history?� He closes his mind to the whole thing and turns his attentions back to his little wife.� She is whispering.

�� "Nothing?� We can't say anything back?"

��"Don't argue with them.� They're going to do what they want regardless of what we say."

�� Sounds of people outside their gate once again.� Knocking.� Knocking they do not trust.� Knocking, probably, of the holier-than-thou ones.� The ones traveling in the darkness.

�� "Let's not answer it."

�� Mary looks up at her husband.� "We can't keep from answering the knocks at our gate all the time.� How are my folks going to contact us?"

�� Shouts out from out in the darkness.� Insults.�

�� "We'll close the gate whenever we need to rest from it all, even if it is day time."� He takes a deep breath.� "And when the insults do come, we'll just call back, 'God bless you.'� How does that sound?� They can't argue with that, can they?"

�� Joseph grins slightly.� Mary smiles back the best she can.� "Yeah.� We'll just bless them."

�� "That's the spirit, Mary," Joseph encourages.� "You're going to do just fine."

�� "I thank God every day for you, Joseph.� How could I have ever gone through this alone?� I love you so much.� You are my special gift from God."

�� "We are God's gift to each other," he adds, anxious to lighten up their conversation.�

�� Indeed the insults on the other side of their closed gate do come.� But gradually the young people learn to handle them.� As they do, the insults slow down.� The effectiveness is declining too much.�

�� The two continue to go to town every morning to shop for groceries.� Sometimes more often.�

�� "Keep your head high, Mary," Joseph whispers to her.� "Come on!� Smile!� Hold that head up!� Walk tall!"

�� One day Joseph leaves his shop and enters their quarters, obviously angry.� It's from the Census Bureau.� Sovereign Ruler Caesar has ordered everyone to go to the town where their ancestors settled when they first came to this country.� There we will all be accounted for in a nation-wide census, and then taxed accordingly.

�� "I can't go.� Bethlehem is a week away, Joseph.� It's impossible.� I'm due any day.� What are we going to do?" [7]

�� "You have to go.� Everyone in the country has to.� They'll fine me if you don't.� And if I can't pay the fine, they'll put me in jail until I do.� Then you'll be without anyone," ~ anyone meaning himself. [8]

�� "Oh, God."� Mary lifts up her eyes to the sky.� "Do something!� Nothing can happen to my baby - to your baby.� Please, God, do something."

�� Being a man of action, Joseph announces, "We've got to talk to God about it right now."

�� And they do.

�� "Oh, Lord.� We come to you as the ones you have chosen to take care of your baby.� We're only human.� We can't guarantee his safety on a trip like this.� It will be too hard on Mary.� Please make the procurator change his mind, or at least make exceptions for the sick.� We pray this with...."

�� Mary tenderly interrupts before the prayer is ended.� "....Lord, if you could just make the baby come early....� That would be okay.....� Could you let little Jesus come early?� Please...."

�� Mary's crying.

�� "It will be okay, Mary.� God will find a way for you to not have to go.� Just you watch."

�� Joseph lifts her chin, kisses the end of her nose, and smiles comfortingly.� She smiles through glistening tears, through tears shimmering with love for both Joseph and the Heavenly Father.� They have faith it will work out.

�� But it does not work out.� Caesar does not change his mind.� The tax people won't even talk to Joseph.� They just threaten to have them arrested by the Roman soldiers that are ever present in every city of Herod.

�� Further, Mary isn't having any birth pains.� Taking long walks around the block every morning with Joseph aren't helping.� Nothing is working.� What has gone wrong?� Doesn't God hear prayer? [9]

�� Finally, Mary says to her Joseph very gently, "I can't let you go to jail.� Besides, we can't afford the fine.� The last caravan out of town is leaving tomorrow morning.� We can't wait any longer.� We have to go."

�� "Oh, Mary.� I can't let you do this."

�� "I'll be okay."

�� "This isn't the way it's supposed to be, Mary.� I'm supposed to take care of you and the baby.� How can I on the road?"

�� "I promise you, Joseph.� The baby and I will be okay.� Really."

�� The trip is long.� The swelling group of travelers make their way across the plains, over the rivers, up and down the hills and around the mountains.� Roman patrols are doubled.�

�� In the evenings, the group stops and makes camps.� The inns are all full with other travelers.� Together in their bedroll, they sleep.� At first sporadically until they relax.� Sometimes they pray a little.� Sometimes they giggle or whisper sweet nothings, or cry a little.� One day.� Two days.� Three long, long days.

�� God looks down on the insignificant couple as Joseph strides and stumbles his way down the sometimes rocky roads, leading Mary and her donkey, one couple of many on the highway these days.�

�� God looks down in satisfaction.� Gutsy kids.� They got what it takes.� They'll do fine.� Everything's going along just as planned - planned hundreds of years earlier.� God thinks about explaining it to them outright but decides not to.� They'll understand for themselves soon enough.

Bethlehem, Judea

�� The words they thought they'd never hear.

�� "There it is on that hill, folks," the caravan guide announces.� "Everyone needing to stop in Bethlehem, we'll be there in a couple hours.� Don't forget to take your possessions when you leave." [10]

�� The sight of their ancestral home, the home where the great King David once grew up, gives them renewed energy.� The caravan stops to rest outside the city.� Mary and Joseph are the last to leave the group, for Mary's birth pains have just begun. [11]� ��

�� They make their way a several hundred yards to the city gate.� Then they stop. �

�� "Stay here, Mary," he says as he helps her off their donkey.� "I'll go on into town and line up the inn for us."

�� An hour later, Joseph walks back through the city gates and toward his young wife.� She has moved their donkey over to the wall itself.� She is lying down with their tote of clothing under her head.� She looks so little and helpless.

�� Joseph can hardly bear to tell her the news.� He hits his fist on the wall above her and stares at the empty sky.� She knows what has happened, and whispers, "Don't say anything.� Just sit here with me, Joseph."

�� He sits down on the barren ground next to Mary and places his head next to hers on the little tote.� Her physical pain and his heart pain mingle.

�� A Roman soldier on night patrol walks up.� "You can't stay here, folks," he says gruffly.� "You're holding up traffic.� I'll be forced to have you arrested for if you don't move along."

�� "But don't you see, my wife's about to have a baby?"

�� "Sorry.� This isn't a hospital.� We could be sued, you know.� Gotta move along, sir.� Sorry, sir."� And he leaves.

�� "I can do it.� Just help me up."

�� Slowly the couple with the bundle now slung over Joseph's shoulder, and the bundle in Mary's little womb leave the city wall.� The sun is about down.� They begin to walk.� Walk the streets.� They are homeless. [12]

�� Noticing there's a residential section just one block behind the shops by the gate, they turn down the side street in that direction.� They pass a man and Joseph stops him.

�� "Sir, my wife's about to have a baby.� Could we stay in your home tonight?� I've got money.� I can pay you."

�� "Sorry.� I don't live here myself.� We just barely found a place ourselves.� We're sharing a room with two other couples, on the condition we put our children in the bed roll with us.� Sorry."� He walks on down the narrow street.

�� Crowds everywhere.� Out-of-town people here for this senseless census and taxing.� Trying to get into overcrowded taverns to eat.� Sitting in the city square with baskets of food.� Squatting in deserted doorways with small loaves of bread or dried meat or not-so-fresh fruit trying to assuage their hunger.� Some laughing and making the most of it.� Some tussling with restless children.� Some just meandering.�

�� "Sir, my wife's about to have a baby.� Please, are there any places left?"

�� The stranger just hurries on.

�� In desperation, he helps Mary sit against the wall making up the outside of someone's home, walks up to a gate, and knocks on it.� "Please, my wife's about to have a baby.� Do you have any room for us?"

�� "We've got people sleeping in every room.� There's no room left.� Try next door."

�� "Ma'am, my wife's about to have a baby.� Please, do you have any room left for us?"

�� "Sorry.� Too bad, too.� It's going to be a chilly night."

�� Joseph walks back down the street where he left Mary and looks up into the sky.� A star is beginning to shine unusually bright.� He's grateful for it, as it helps light up the darkening street.� He looks at it and prays.�

�� "Please, God.� You've got to help us."

�� He goes back to the wall where he left Mary.� She is trying bravely not to scream.� People are passing by unconcerned, unnoticing, busy, busy, busy....� Even the Roman soldiers.

�� Joseph kneels by her side.� "The pains are getting worse.� Oh, don't they realize what's going on?� This is the Son of God they're all rejecting."

�� "You didn't tell them that, did you, Joseph?"

�� "No, of course not.� They'd think I was a lunatic, and I'd never find us a place."

�� He hesitates to say it, but does anyway.� "It's not supposed to be this way, Mary.� This baby is supposed to rule our country.� He should have been born in Jerusalem.� You should have given birth in the palace.� There should have been an honor guard outside the door."

�� Mary hears, but knows there's no answer to his reflections.� She'd kind of thought the same thing, herself.� But they couldn't write Jerusalem and tell them this.� No one would have believed them.��

�� "You know, it doesn't have to be a house," she finally responds.� "One end of your shop made a good stable for our one and only animal.� People have stables."

��"Be right back!" Joseph announces, and bounds off again.

�� He hurries up to a nearby house and knocks once again on the gate.

�� "Young man, I told you a minute ago we have no room left.� We just can't help you.� Quit coming here."

�� The gate starts to close, but Joseph puts his foot in the way.� "Your stable, sir.� We'll take your stable.� Here.� I've got payment in full for one night."

�� "You've gotta be out of your mind, young man.� It's dirty and smelly in there."

�� "We'll take it!� It's fine.� Just fine."

�� Joseph shoves his money at the reluctant and puzzled man in the door.

�� "Young people!� What'll they do next?" the home owner mutters as he jingles the money in his hands.� "Well, there is a lamp out hanging from the peg by the entrance.� And there may be an old blanket I used awhile back for a sick calf.� Maybe you can do something with that."

�� "Yes, sir!� Thank you, sir."

�� "Okay, Mary.� We've got a place," he grins.� "Just wait here one more minute.� I've gotta go get things arranged for you."

�� "Oh!" she cries out.� The birth pangs are longer and closer.� She hopes no one heard her.� A few on the side of the street nearby turn and stare at her in the darkened dusk, wonder what's wrong with that lady, then turn away in the unconcern of forgetfulness.

�� "All right now, Mary.� You don't even have to walk.� I found a small cart, and you're going for a ride."

�� "Oh, Joseph, you're out of your mind," she laughs amidst the pain.

�� He carefully picks her up, and gently places the mother of God's Son into the cart.

�� "And away we go!" he shouts, pulling it himself.

�� "Joseph, don't you drop me!" she giggles.

�� The stable door is open.� He rolls her in.� He closes the door.

�� An empty stall has obviously been cleared out and filled with fresh straw.� Again Joseph carefully bends down, picks up his little wife, and moves her carefully to the floor.� Then he takes a smelly blanket off a peg on the wall.

�� With Mary sufficiently covered with the blanket, Joseph sits on the cold dirt floor to wait.� Cold, cold ground .� Coldness in the air.� Coldhearted people around them.� But then, perhaps they just don't understand.

�� Warmth.� The warmth of human love.� The warmth of divine love.� Warmth infiltrating, permeating, saturating.� Warmth such as has never been felt before.

�� "Ahhhhhhh!" Mary screams.� "It hurts, Joseph.� It hurts!"

�� She squeezes Joseph's hand until it turns white.

�� "That's fine, Mary.� You're doing just fine."

�� "Ahhhhhh!"

�� "Breathe.� Breathe, Mary.� Just like your mother told you.� Breathe."

�� Come, Lord Jesus.

�� "Ahhhhhh!"

�� Mary's perspiring.� Joseph's perspiring.� Perhaps even God's perspiring.

��"Come on, Mary!� You can do it!� You're almost in the home stretch!"

�� "This isn't a chariot race, Joseph!" she gently chides unexpectedly.

�� "That's good, Mary!� Keep up your sense of humor!� Keep a positive attitude!� That's good!"

�� Yes, come to us, precious savior.

�� "Ahhhhhh!"

�� "That's right!� That's right!"

�� You're closer to us now.� Keep coming, Lord Jesus.

�� "Ahhhhh!"

�� He's coming!� He's coming, Mary!� I see the top of his� head.� Keep pushing!"��

�� Yes, it's hard.� But please keep coming to our world.

�� "Ahhhhh!"

�� Joseph cradles the baby's head in his hand.

�� Just a little more, now!� A little more, Mary!"

�� We need you, Lord Jesus.� We desperately need you!

�� Ahhhhh!� Ahhhhh!� Ahhhhh!"

�� "He's out!� He's born!� Jesus, the God-Man is born!" [13]

�� Mary slumps back in exhaustion.� Joseph cuts the cord and ties it, just the way he'd heard things were done.� Then he holds him up to Mary and she takes the slippery baby in her arms and stares.

�� Tears return to her eyes, but now they are tears of joy and satisfaction.� Joseph's big rough hands are under hers to steady them.�

�� Then he remembers his clean tunic in their tote.� Joseph lays the Son of God on his tunic and folds it around him.

�� "The swaddling bands, Joseph.� I brought swaddling bands along.� Finish wrapping him in that."

�� Joseph pulls everything out of their tote, finds the bands, wraps the baby's arms, legs, and body with it, and hands him again to his mother. [14]

�� Finally the young man squats in the floor next to the mother and baby.� But in heaven Jehovah God rises from his throne, raises his holy hand in triumph and shouts a "YES!!!!!!" that resounds through the universe and beyond.� The angels pat each other on the back and burst out in a song of triumph that shoots through the heavens and slides down to the the gentle hills outside the little town of Bethlehem.�

�� "Light the light!� Light the light!"

�� Suddenly the angels begin to glow.� Brighter and brighter.� Ready for their descent.� Ready for their appearance.� Ready for their moment of glory. [15]

�� Silence.� Divine silence.� Wonder.� Awe.� Overwhelming astonishment.� Overpowering love.

�� An insignificant couple.� A dirty stable.� Smelly.� Dingy lighting.� Cobwebs.�

�� "Now what happens?" Joseph whispers.

�� "Well," Mary replies hesitatingly.� "He looks pretty sleepy."

�� "Do you think he'll start talking?� How fast will he grow?� He's God's Son, you know.� He can do anything."

�� "We'll just have to wait and see, won't we?"� Mary closes her eyes, then opens them again and snickers.� "Wonder if he'll wake up after awhile and say, 'Mother, I'm ready for my milk'?"

�� Joseph snickers too.

�� Joseph stays up awhile.� He doesn't know it yet, but he'll be having visitors about the middle of the night ~ not very important people, just dirty shepherds.� Not very impressive.� But they will impress Mary and Joseph.� Because they understand.�

�� ....Finally, after they arrive and leave, and all the excitement of their visit dies down, Joseph too falls asleep.

�� ....It is daylight now.� Mary hears the hinges on the stable door creak.� Joseph is just returning to their stable.

�� "I tried to pay our taxes, but they insist on seeing you and the baby too for census purposes.� They agreed to let you wait a day, and check in tomorrow."

�� Joseph spends the next day reading and searching the scroll of the prophets he brought along.� Searching for more prophesies about the Son of God, the savior, lying beside them. [16]

��"Listen to this, Mary!� This was predicted by Micah.� You won't believe it"

��"Bethlehem in the province of Judea, you are just a small Judean town, but you will be the birthplace of my King who has been alive since before time." [17]

�� "You mean little Jesus was supposed to be born in Bethlehem all along?"

�� "Man!� What a time God had getting us here!� We fought it all the way!"

�� Census completed and taxes paid, the young couple wonders what to do.�

�� "Well, if Jesus was supposed to be born in Bethlehem, maybe he's supposed to grow up here.� People are beginning to go home now.� I'm going to go out and find us a house and a little work.� After the mess people made of the town while here, I don't think I'll have any trouble.� I can start with the taverns."

�� Mary smiles in approval.

��"Besides, we won't have to put up with the taunts here."

�� Everything works out as planned and the young couple with their divine baby move into a little house. [18]

�� Joseph still insists on going shopping with Mary, though.� He walks beside her and "their" baby.� He walks proudly.

�� Often he grins at the passers by who only glance briefly his way, fleetingly wondering why he's grinning so widely.� They don't hear that he's shouting silently to them all, "He's the Son of God, you know!� He's going to save you some day!"�

�� Yes, indeed, Joseph is walking tall.

���� LIFE APPLICATION

1.�� Are there some bad decisions being made in the local, state or federal government right now?� Citizens could turn it around into something good by standing up and being counted.� In what way could you personally do this?

2.�� Have you ever suffered taunts from other people for doing a wrong that you did not do?� In the book HAPPINESS IS A CHOICE, it is suggested we tell those angry at us that there is nothing they can say or do to get us to stop loving them.� Jesus said the same thing throughout his life by example.� The next time you are falsely accused, will you try this method of dealing with it?

3.�� Have you been fighting something in your life that seems inevitable?� What kind of blessing could it possibly have for you if you gave in and did it after all?� Remember, Romans 8:28 says God can work all things together somehow to turn out for good if we love him.

4.�� Recall a time when something important happened to you and it seemed as though no one in the world cared?� How can you find people in the same circumstance and let them know you care?

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