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A s they turned to leave, a man robed in religious vestments stopped them. One could not tell if he were a priest. The robe was drawn over his head so that its shadow fell over his face. His dress gave the appearance of an official. His demeanor, however, was different. “Please,” he said unobtrusively, “just a small moment of your time.” There was something in his voice. Age? “May I please look upon your child?” When Mary nodded approval, tentatively, tenderly, he reached his hand and removed the baby’s blanket, exposing the infant’s face. At the same time, the hood fell from the man’s head exposing his face as well. The wrinkles in the corners of his eyes deepened as pleasure splashed over his face. Lines from years of life deepened into exhilaration, his almost white beard of grand length trembled. His voice, choked with emotion rattled, “May I hold him?” Without reluctance, Mary held Jesus out to him. He held the babe close to his breast, hugging him. Jesus smiled back in obvious delight, his little hand unconsciously grasping the old man’s beard. Old eyes lifted toward heaven and closed. Wet streams coursed down his cheeks as he whispered, “Now Lord, let your servant depart in peace.”
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