The dawning light crept through the window, and my old eyes adjusted to the shades. The truth to be told my eyes saw light darker now, and I ached as pulled off the sheet and sat still on my bed. Blessed are you, O Lord, King of the universe

The ancient words tumbled from my lips had sunk deep within my heart, as my face felt the cold water once again, as I washed and prepared to break my fast before going to the Temple, the centre of our world once, more. My eyes were blessed that they could not clearly see the standards of Caesar that had been placed in the holiest places, a reminder that we who were once a people no longer controlled ourselves. The hopes that burned within me were slightly diminished, although I smiled when I remembered a promise made long ago. you will not taste death until you see my Anointed one. As I stumbled out of my quarters, I looked around my room, hardly anything personal, no clutter, memories of laughter with friends long since gone, and I wondered whether that promise was empty or if I simply might fade away.

I wandered into the Temple forecourts, listening to the bleating of the animals. They knew what was coming, without spot or blemish, but their end was the same. People came from all over the world for a variety of reasons. They came to worship, to ask for forgiveness, to be set free, and to mark beginnings and endings. My ancient, well old, hands that now were weathered had blessed so many different things, and I had looked into the eyes of many as theirs had danced with mine as we hoped for a better future. There were a few of us on duty. The other priests had more energy and even with their younger eyes they did not seem to see as clearly as I.

There was nothing about them that drew me to them. Like countless thousands before them they had come to do what the Law required. They had made the journey from Bethlehem, they told me. They made the sacrifice and usually that would be that a smile, maybe an embrace and perfunctory blessing. The father of the baby handed the boy to me. His name was Jesus, a common name, yet also a statement of faith that God would intervene.

Blessed are you, O Lord our God… the words came again, and then I looked at him. I had to adjust my eyes to see really. All babies smile, and make indescribable noises, and usually all parents are so very proud. I would not know that for God had not blessed me with a wife or children. In the half light, I saw and heard. This one, the one I held, one without fault was the one. O Lord, I cried, I can go now in peace. It was not a wish for the end but a gratefulness that God had fulfilled his promise. I began to smile and laugh, and then the sound of bleating came again from a lamb being led to the slaughter, and as I embraced his parents, I was overwhelmed with sorrow as I entered what might be a mother’s pain. I told her, she was so very young, that we should experience pain. She knew.

Then the fingers of a baby wrapped around the index finger of my right hand, and my eyes saw clearly once again.

He had arrived.