The next morning, Luke woke up in his bed.
For a moment, he didn’t know where he was.
He looked around the unfamiliar room, and little by little his memories came back.
His mother had been sleeping in the bed beside him, but she was gone now—she must have already gotten up.
Compared to their house in Troas, this room felt very small and plain.
It was the room where his mother had spent her childhood with her own mother.
The walls on all four sides were coated with plaster.
There was only one door leading to the next room and two small windows.
A clay lamp sat by the pillow.
A few old pieces of furniture stood quietly in the room.
There was a loom that seemed to have been left just as it was after his grandmother passed away.
In baskets nearby lay half-spun thread and folded cloth.
In summer, the family slept in this room, but during the cold winters they all slept together in the living room, where there was a hearth that also served as the kitchen.
In the next room, Dinah was preparing a simple breakfast.
There was soup made from onions and broad beans, along with bread and cheese.
Grandfather Jonathan watched her with a happy look on his face.
When Luke came in, Jonathan greeted him warmly, “Good morning.”
Dinah noticed him too and smiled, saying, “Good morning.”
Luke answered on purpose in clumsy Hebrew, “Goo‐mornin,” and sat down at the table.
Jonathan smiled even more and said cheerfully,
“Today I’ll teach you how to take care of the animals. After that, you’ll learn the blacksmith’s work.
But first, you need to eat. You’re still thin, so eat plenty.
In three years, I’ll turn you into a strong young man—just wait and see.
Be ready, though. Blacksmith work is hard. Don’t give up halfway.”
Dinah looked at the two of them sitting at the table, closed her eyes, and prayed silently.
“Thank you, God.”
Then Jonathan prayed aloud for all three of them.
“O Jehovah, Lord of heaven and earth,
You alone are the true God.
Please watch over us today.
Thank You for our daily food.”
The first work of the morning was caring for the animals and feeding them.
This house had one donkey for carrying loads and two goats for milking.
They used to have a few sheep too, but after Jonathan was left alone, he gave them up.
Almost every day, neighborhood children took the goats to the hillside pasture.
The very first job in the morning was milking the goats.
Grandfather showed Luke how to do it.
“Now you try.”
Luke copied him and milked the goat.
It was easier than he had expected.
Fresh goat’s milk quickly filled the bowl.
“Take a sip,” Jonathan said.
Luke drank straight from the bowl.
It smelled like fresh grass and tasted very good.
The cat, Theophilus, came limping over.
“Why don’t you give the kitten some too?” Jonathan said with a smile.
Theophilus eagerly drank the milk from a small dish, purring loudly.
His injured leg had almost healed, and his brave little spirit had returned.
In the animal shed, the donkey greeted Luke by showing its big teeth, as if it were smiling.
Its large ears looked funny.
Just as Grandfather had said, Luke gave it plenty of fresh straw.
“When it’s very cold in winter, we sometimes keep the goats and the donkey inside the living room,” Jonathan explained.
“When we still had sheep, the house was terribly noisy in winter—
not quite like Noah’s ark, but close!”
Grandfather laughed.
Luke didn’t quite understand the joke yet.
After a while, two boys came down the road, leading several goats and sheep.
Jonathan handed over the two goats and gave the boys generous pieces of bread and cheese.
The boys happily climbed the hill.
“They’re the children of Joseph the carpenter and Mary—Jude and James,” Jonathan said.
“Then… um…” Luke hesitated, trying to remember.
“Are they the brothers of that… you know… the ‘Singer’?”
“That’s right,” Jonathan said.
“They’re Jesus’ brothers.”
It was the first time Luke had heard that name.
Jesus.
So his name was Jesus.
Luke remembered the strange boy—
how he would talk eagerly and then suddenly fall silent,
or sing as if he had forgotten the world around him.
Thinking about it made Luke smile to himself.
And so, quietly and gently, his new days began.