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The woman was happy, happy and moved... she could not contain the tears of joy that sprang up like a fountain of living water. To her tear-blurred eyes, the figure of the man to whom she owed her healing appeared like a slender tree exposed to the torment of winds that shook it from every side without uprooting it.
“Who touched me... who touched me?” the prophet kept repeating, looking around, surrounded by a crowd of thirsty and hungry people. “... who touched me?”. One of his disciples replied, “Master... you see how many people surround and touch you... how can you ask ‘who touched me?’”.
However, a woman stepped forward through the crowd and, coming before the man, said, “It was I, Master, who touched you... for years I have suffered from an incurable disease... forgive me, I knew that you would heal me.”; it was the same woman who was crying with joy, consolation, and commiseration for herself; the man looked her in the eyes and said, “Woman, your love is great and has saved you.” The man, who to the tear-veiled eyes of the woman had seemed like a tree trunk shaken by the wind, was now tired and wanted to retreat to a quiet place to be alone and pray; he made his way through the crowd that surrounded and pressed him from every side and, leaving his disciples to care for those people lost in body and soul, he walked away, praying that they would not follow him.
Day was yielding to night, slowly, and in the serene evening air, twilight seemed as bright as dawn, and the evening hour struggled to hand over to darkness. The man, seated on a rocky, nearly vegetation-free elevation, now truly seemed like a mysterious tree, unlike any known plant in that region. Sitting, he thought... he rested his body and soul in the coolness of the evening... his face was still covered with the day’s sand, that fine sand stirred by thousands of sandals, each belonging to a pain, a repentance, a regret.
Now, in the hour preceding darkness, the man rested, praying. He was speaking, in secret, with his living cosmic father, his cosmic father... that father who dwells in every heart and every mind that knows or has known love, even if only for a moment; that love that turns its force outward, flooding the other from itself. The man knew that soon the dark jaws of darkness would descend, but he did not fear them.
Darkness could not conquer him, could not shake him, could not contradict his words or thoughts; it could only denounce him, declaring falsehood; it could only insult him, without reason... and so, on that already dark and deep night, a voice raised the wind, announcing words of despair and helplessness, insulting the man who still sat on a rock and did not listen.
The voice grew enraged, violent, terrible... it seemed to want to shatter the entire world... it unleashed a tumult, but that man remained seated, unshaken. Then, the voice said, "Beast, listen to me, if it is true that I cannot harm you, then know that I will harm others, the people, those lost souls who follow you and whom you love so much"... the man wept; this was the only thing that could shake him, that could wound his heart, and the darkness knew it.
Then, weeping, he said to the void from which that voice came: "You will not dare to touch anyone I love; I will not permit it; if you dare, know that I will destroy you and there will be no salvation for you anywhere on this earth promised to peace and that you seek to upset and lose from light to darkness. I am a sword and I will cut your womb heavy with insipience, pain, and misery"... the darkness replied, "We hate you; you are our downfall, but you will not be able to stop us; we will contaminate and destroy what you love most."
Leave this earth, you, son of the Logos". The darkness retreated, and a new day dawned; the man knew that the voice he had heard that night was already at work, and he descended from the hill to the valley, going to where his disciples awaited him, along with a crowd of people waiting for his word, his gesture... he went, arrived, and looked around; his eyes were veiled in tears, just as those of the woman he had healed without knowing were; to his gaze, now, that crowd of human beings appeared like a dense forest of shaken and battered trees.
He wept, and a disorganized crowd, unaware of what he was doing, struggled to collect his tears... the healings began, anyone who bathed in those tears was cured of any illness... the voice spread quickly and the crowd became even larger, an undifferentiated tide of people overcome with euphoria... the man wept, wept because he knew that little was what he could do to satisfy them; they wanted to be cured of bodily ailments, but none of them seemed to care about far more devastating and terrible afflictions... the man wept and seemed unable to control himself; then, some of his disciples shook him, telling him a simple fact: the people were hungry, they had been there all night and all morning waiting for his return, now they were hungry, many felt their strength waning and the euphoria of that moment accelerated their exhaustion... the man told his disciples, "Only for this do you worry? Give them something to eat," they replied, "But, Master, we don't have enough to feed thousands of people... how can we do what you ask us to?" The man replied, "Bring what you have"... said this, the events that followed were neither caught nor understood by any human being, not even by the closest circle of his disciples; everything seemed to happen like a dream. Suddenly, bread and fish in abundance for everyone... there was enough to feed an entire city.
That day, the darkness retreated but vowed vengeance, death, and destruction. That man, little time later, was killed... his message was caught by few, very few, and so the darkness was able to fulfill their oath... but their time is brief and will come to an end.
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