But the boy's love for his unhappy little sister made him wise beyond his years.
"If I tell her, and it does not come to pass as she wishes, it will break her heart," he argued. "The Messiah is but a tiny Baby now, weak and helpless. It may be He must grow to manhood before He can heal the blind, the deaf, and the sick. Who knows? Not I. I will not tell her yet."
So Ezra clattered noisily up the remaining steps of the stairway, calling out:
"Naomi! Naomi! Where art thou? Oh, here thou art! Are thy sandals well tied? For I have come to take thee down to the inn stable to show thee something there. And what it is, thou couldst never guess if thou didst guess a hundred years."
Naomi shook her head.
"Show me? What could I see? Nay, I will go nowhere, Ezra," she answered sadly. "If I went, I could not see thy wondrous sight. I would far rather stay at home."
"But this is something to feel," said Ezra coaxingly, putting his arm about Naomi and leading her gently toward the stairway. "Tell me, dost thou remember when young Deborah, the vine-dresser's wife, laid something soft and warm in thine arms?"
"A baby, Ezra?" asked Naomi, stopping short. "A baby at the inn stable?"