One Solitary Life


One Solitary Life

He was born in an obscure village, the child of a peasant woman. He grew up in another obscure village, where he worked in a carpenter shop until he was thirty. Then for three years he was an itinerant preacher. He never set foot inside a big city. He never traveled two hundred miles from the place he was born. He never wrote a book, or held an office. He did none of these things that usually accompany greatness. While he was still a young man, the tide of popular opinion turned against him. His friends deserted him. He was turned over to his enemies, and went through the mockery of a trial. He was nailed to a cross between two thieves. While he was dying, his executioners gambled for the only piece of property he had – his coat. When he was dead, he was taken down and laid in a borrowed grave. Nineteen centuries have come and gone, and today his is the central figure for much of the human race. All the armies that ever marched, and all the navies that ever sailed, and all the parliaments that ever sat, and all the kings that ever reigned, put together have not affected the life of man upon this earth as powerfully as this “One Solitary Life.” — Author Unknown



Merry Christmas To You and Yours!

3 Responses to One Solitary Life

  1. Lynn says:

    Valerie, just popping in to say hello! I love this picture of you all! You have a beautiful, beautiful family! I hope you are well. I think of you every time I see my little corgi paintings, and that is often because they are hanging in my little art cove.

    Love,
    Lynn

  2. Lynn says:

    PS–forgot to say I love "One Solitary Life." Thomas's mother had written it down and I found it after she died.

  3. Valerie says:

    Glad you stopped by Lynn! I'm not a very faithful blogger…hope to do better this new year! ;)I'm so glad you are enjoying the corgi's! I will have to send you a new one soon! =)

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