Thank you

I looked up at him, hanging there on a wooden frame of human torture. The dried blood on his hands shone eerily in the sunlight of the afternoon, his face and hair greasy with sweat from the fight to stay alive. I stared at the late Jesus, dead for little over an hour, and thanked him silently with a bow of my head. Then, I set up an easel, right under the cross, and began to paint.

We met nearly three days ago, in the dead of night. My last customer had just left, completly satisfied as usual. And as usual, my body was sore from the pounding, revolting against my choice to give myself to strangers in return for money. I hadn't been a prostitute for long; I only became one after both my parents died, leaving me to care for my younger sister, Rebecca. I needed a job, one that I could do with ease, and still earn enough to keep Becca and myself with full stomachs. So I became a woman of the night, giving men a young, suple body in exchange for rather extravegant fairs. It did not give me peace of mind, but at least it kept us alive.
I worked with a group of about nine other girls, all fair haired and blue eyed with two exceptions: myself and Mary. Supposedly, our brown manes and irises were rare, and therefore we fetched a better price for our services. Mary has been my friend for as long as I've been in the business. She always takes care of me, perhaps because I am the only one who shares her looks, or becuase I am the youngest in our gang. Whatever the reason, she makes sure I am treated right by the pigs who come to us, and gives me an extra cut of the money to bring home. She talks to me and comforts me, even after my first time, when I cried for hours from the pain. And she is the only person in the world whom I have ever told my secret desires to.
But two days ago, Mary pulled me aside after work.
"Listen Sarah, I am leaving the group."
Instantly, panic arose within me.
"But Mary, I cannot do this without you! I would never survive if you leave!" Tears suddenly were welling in my ducts.
She smiled at me with sympathy, her eyes heavy and forlorn. "I want you to come over tonight."
"To your home?"
She nodded. "I have someone I want you to meet. He changed my life, and I believe he can do the same for you."
I rubbed the salty discharge from my eyes, my breath heavy as I tried to calm myslef. "Ok, I will come."

That night, after darkness had claimed the sky once again, I set out to the abode of Mary Magdalene. It was a small hut, even smaller than the one I shared with my sister at the edge of the town. I walked into the house, not much lighter than outside, for it was lit by only three candles. On the floor sat many people, my guess would be twenty, all staring at the one man who stood. He was bearded and slender and wore all white, which contrasted well with his stunning blue eyes.
As I walked into the room, all eyes turned to face me. From the front of this congregation, Mary stood and walked over to greet me. She pulled me close and hugged me, her warmth a blessing to my frozen apendages. Then she guided me to where she had been sitting and offered me a place next to her. We sat, and the bearded man began talking again, a warm smile on his face.

"Friends, we should not harm each other, for in essence, we are all the same. From God we came, every one of us, and to God we shall eventually return. If we treat each other with kindness and compassion, the world will find peace. But if we continue to kill each other in senseless combat, then the world will find no happy end."
He bowed graciously to everyone and thanked them for listening to him. The people stood and cheered, I among them, for I was inspired by just the tail end of the speech. It was enough to know that this was an extrordinary man, the one I assumed Mary had talked about. Maybe such a wonderful person could help me after all.

After all the others had left, Mary and I were alone with the tall, brilliant man. Mary went up to him and hugged him, with all the force of a woman in love. Ah, I thought, so THAT is why she speaks so highly of him; She is in love with him and his words.
When they finally let go of each other, the man turned to me.
"Hello. I am Jesus of Nasareth. It is wonderful to meet you." He said with a genuine friendliness.
"Um, hello, I am Sarah of...here. It is nice to meet you too."
Jesus smiled. "I see much good in you, Sarah. Mary tells me you want to paint."
Shocked at this statement, I glared at Mary for telling my secret, then at Jesus, for saying it out loud.
"You know very well woman are forbidden to paint."
Jesus chuckled. "I do not believe anyone should be forbidden to do anything, as long as it is not causing another living creature harm. And a girl like you, with your amazing talents, should stand up for herself."
I gave a sigh at the mention of my talent, my photographic memory. "Well, I would love to paint, but I need to earn a living wage. For your information, I have a very young sibling at home who needs to eat. So even if I wanted to 'Stand up for myself' I have no time."
"Yes, I know quite well about your situatuion, and it makes me sick to see a young girl like you have to go into the field of work you're in just to stay alive and well" Jesus said, with a furrowed brow.
"Well, its not like this is what I planned on doing, but circumstances arose, and it seemed like a good option" I said, a little offended that a person I had just met was already commenting on my lifestyle choice. "And who are you to talk anyway? What do you do for money, Mr. 'I want peace on earth'."
"I am a carpenter" he said with a bit of pride.
"Oo, a carpenter" I sneered with a roll of my eyes. Now I was really annoyed. "Becuase THAT's a better job. Just building things all day long. Well, you know what? ANYONE can build something! They just probably pay you becuase they feel sorry for you. What a rambling fool!" I began to storm out of the room and into the street, just wanting to go home and cry. But before I got to the door, Jesus stepped in front of me.
"I know you feel like you have no choice," he said "But you can leave if you want to. Go paint. I know you can make a living with that if you try."
"Yes, well, I'll keep that in mind. Goodbye." I turned to Mary and gave her a hug. "See you around, maybe." With that, I ran into the night to my little home.

The next day, as I scratched at the tear stains on my face from the night, I thought about what Jesus had said to me. Sure, I could take a brake and paint for a while. I had been saving a little bit of my weekly wage for something special. Paints would not cost too much, so I could still buy Becca a little surprise. I decided I would do it, on a trail basis. That way I could prove that blabbering idiot wrong. Well, wrong about me anyways.
But first, I decided I had to applogize to Jesus. Becuase even though I believed he was wrong, I knew my behavior was unacceptable. So I went to Mary's home, hoping to find him there. Instead, I just found mary, rushing toward the door just as I had come in.
"Oh, hello Sarah, I was just on my way out. But I am really glad to see you."
"Ah I see. Well, actually, I came by to appologize to you and Jesus for last night. If you see him, can you tell him I'm sorry."
She smiled lightly. "Why don't you come tell him yourself."
So I followed her out of the town, far beyond where I had ever journeyed. We finally came to a lone hut in the middle of a flat plane. Inside, there was a long table, at which sat twelve men, each tall and in supposed good spirits, but with worried eyes. In the middle sat Jesus, his arms outstreched welcoming everyone to the meger food he was able to get. This entire scene touched my heart in a way indescirbable in any language, and I implanted it into my mind.
Slowly, I walked forward, and his eyes found mine.
"Hello again, Sarah. To what do I owe this pleasure?."
I bowed my head. "I..um, well I just wanted to say I am sorry for yelling at you last night. It was quite rude of me."
He smiled, then reached out to grab my hand. I felt a shiver go up my spine, though not in a sexual way, more of a family shiver, like when a father pats his daughter's shoulder as a sign of affection.
"It is ok, my friend. There is no need to be sorry."
I smiled, my heart beaming with admiration for this man. How could anyone be so kind, I wondered.
"Well...thank you. I...I have to go now, Becca will be worried about me. But...thank you." I said with a profound calm that had suddenly found me. I started to walk towards the exit, when I turned back around. "Hey, I wanted to let you know that I'm going to paint after all."
Jesus nodded his head. "Good luck to you friend. I know you will do great things."
I nodded back, then left for home.

Today, after one of the best nights sleep I have had in a long time, I went to the group, and told them that I am quitting. I collected my last cut of pay, which should be able to support Becca and I for a few months. That gives me plenty of time to paint. As I was leaving the place where I worked, I ran into Mary. She was crying hysterically. When I asked her what was wrong, she told me everything, about how Jesus had been crucified by order of the emperor and was dead. I knew how it was to loose a loved one, and I could tell she was in bad shape. She told me she had just gone to see him. Suddenly, a great feeling came over me, one that told me I had to go see him dead. I asked where the crosses were, and Mary pointed me in the direction of the central forum. I ran home to grab my paints, and went to the spot she had descirbed.

And that's how I came to be standing under a great man, who lay deceased on a cross. I have been here for four hours, working on my first great masterpiece. It is the scene I had saved in my mind, of Jesus at his last physical meal. I am almost done, and I am certain that someday this painting will be quite famous. I plan to give it to my child, in hopes that he or she will pass it down to all family generations, and then my great-great-great-great granddaughter or son will reveal it to the world. Then, perhaps the people will see the importance of this wonderful man.

I am Sarah da Vinci, and Jesus changed my life.