Chapter 22
by Douglas, Lloyd C.Myra cried that she could bear no more, and entreated Esther to return with her to Bethany. There was nothing they could do. But Esther caught her by the hand and pulled her along into the procession. At the next corner, a dozen men came in from a side street bearing a heavy piece of timber about twelve feet long with a cross-bar near the top. The parade halted. Esther, still dragging Myra by the hand, forced her way toward the front. The rough-hewn cross had been laid on the Master’s shoulder. He staggered under its weight and sank to his knees.
A burly lieutenant, sighting a tall, heavily built man standing among the spectators, shouted, ‘You, there! Put a shoulder under this cross and help the man carry it!’
‘That I will not!’ boldly boomed the big man. ‘I am a free-born Roman citizen! And this is no affair of mine!’
‘We’ll see about that!’ shouted the young Commander. ‘What’s your name, fellow? And where do you come from?’
By this time the crowd had grown quiet, expectant. It was not customary to talk back to a Roman officer.
‘My name, sir, is Simon. I live in Cyrene, a ten days’ fast journey from here, in North Africa. I am in Jerusalem on business, with a caravan of herbs and spices. I protest that you have no right to impress me into this degrading service.’
In spite of his tragic predicament, Jesus was listening sympathetically to the Cyrenian’s courageous self-defence. He gave the big man a friendly look of compassion…Then, to the surprise of the soldiers, the blustering Cyrenian stepped forward and shouldered the cross. Jesus smiled his gratitude and made a feeble attempt to help.
‘No,’ said Simon kindly. ‘I will carry it. You have quite enough to bear today.’
The procession moved on. Esther and Myra stood, for a little while, watching. Then they turned and silently went their way. Near the top of the long hill they sat down to rest under an ancient olive tree.
‘I have just now decided what I shall do, Myra,’ said Esther. ‘I am going back to find my old nurse, Ione. She is in the southern mountains of Arabia. If she still lives, perhaps I can do something for her.’
‘You mean—you would go alone all that long way?’