“Hosanna! hosanna au fils de David!”
At this I fell on my knees by the bedside and buried my face in my hands. I realized suddenly that it was not for me to dispute God's will even for this life that was so dear to me, even for our great love. Once more I must fight my selfish pride and yield everything into God's keeping for better or for worse. But with all my soul I prayed, not daring to look up: “Dear God, save him! Give him back to me.”
Then I felt Christopher's hand on my head, resting there lovingly.
“Penelope!” he said.
“Chris!”
Down in the street the lines of fire swept past in a molten sea while the roar of worshipping voices came up to me:
“Hosanna! hosanna au fils de David!”
And still I prayed, with my head buried in my arms: “Save him! Dear God, save him and give him back to me!”