I don’t know how it happened. I don’t remember thinking about it, but within a few seconds I had sprung up on my feet and the next thing I knew, my arms were embracing him.

I could feel his stomach rumble with joy as his hands gently encircled my waist. His dark curly head nestling into my neck, his breath caressing my shoulder.

It was only for a moment that I completely lost my head,then my hands slapped my sides as if hugging someone was a mortal sin. I quickly stepped back, only to knock the bowl of red paint over onto the black basalt stone.

“Oh, no, I have wasted my red.” Tears started forming in my eyes.

I didn’t want to let on but that red paint had cost me all of the denarius that I had.

I could not ask Mama for more, she would chide me for being a “dreamer.”

“I may be able to help you with that problem,” he said.

“How on earth could you do that? It is not like you can scrape the paint up out of the clay.” I knelt, crying freely now as I tried to corral the stream of red disappearing into the dirt.

“No, that is definitely beyond my skill set but I am here by your side for a reason.”

I looked into his eyes. They held hope and compassion in their gaze.

“What might that reason be?” I began wiping the tears from my cheeks with the sleeve of my robe.

Could it be that he sensed how I felt? Did he feel the same? Could the miracle of love be the reason why he was standing in front of me?

“I have a business proposition for you.”

How could I have thought this man knew anything about love?

He is a Jew, he thinks only of money, nothing else.

The only Jewish man who thought of love more than money was my Papa and God must have broken the mold after him.

I have clearly let my imagination get the best of me.

“Do you need some help up?”

“Yes, that would be nice.” I extended my hand and once again he held me in an embrace. Just for the record, my imagination had nothing to do with that embrace.