Mom read The Bronze Bow by Elizabeth George Speare when we were kids. It was one of the first times I wished I’d  been around to see Jesus walk this earth. And now, when I read the Gospels (why do I complicate so much? my pride is offended, but let my heart change more), I still think of the peripheral characters in the accounts. I imagine what it would have been like, to hear of miracles performed by a carpenter. Or to be confused by his teaching, or angry at his claims. Or to believe so fully, to leave my home and blister my feet following his path.