Jairus’ Daughter

Part 1

My name is Tamar, the daughter of Jaurus and Abigail, and I’m nearly eight years old. I’m no one very special, but something very special happened to me.  It didn’t start very well.  I got very poorly.  I felt hot and sweaty, then cold and sweaty, I didn’t want to eat or get out of bed – or do anything really.  At first my mummy and daddy weren’t worried – they thought it was just a passing fever.  But I didn’t get better – in fact, I got worse. I was even too poorly to be bored.  After a week, my parents started to get really worried. The doctor came round, but just shook his head.  Mum and Dad tried to hide it, but I could tell from their faces that they were scared.  I asked them if I was going to get better, and they told me I would, but I didn’t believe them – and I knew they didn’t either. They did that really annoying thing that grown-ups do – talking about me when they were in the same room as if I wasn’t there – I didn’t really understand what they were saying.  All I heard was them mentioning something about going to fetch a man called Jesus – he was the only one who could help.  So, daddy left in a hurry.  I’d never seen him like that.  

I don’t remember much after that.  I must have fallen asleep.  I had these amazing dreams filled with such love and joy – they were amazing.  The next thing I heard was this voice.  “Little girl, get up!” It said.  I opened my eyes, shook my head, and got up.  I felt like I’d been woken out of the deepest of sleeps.  This kind looking man was sitting by my bed, holding my hand – and there were two men with him that I didn’t know, but also mummy and daddy.  They looked so happy – they had tears in their eyes.  I was confused at first, but then they told me what had happened – I’d actually died, but the kind man, Jesus had brought me back from the dead.  I was a miracle.  

He didn’t stay long, but long enough for my mummy and daddy to say thank you to him about a million times! He just smiled and told them to get me something to eat.  

From that day our whole family became his followers – we spent as much time as we could with him and saw the amazing things he did, and heard the amazing things he said.  It was amazing – and very exciting. We knew there was something special about him – after all, no one else could do the things he did.  Who was he?

Part 2

One day, a year later, we all went to Jerusalem together.  It was very exciting.  Mummy and Daddy talked about him coming into Jerusalem to become King, that he would rule now and we’d no longer have to be afraid of the horrid Romans.  That sounded wonderful.  Those Roman soldiers were so scary, with their helmets and swords – not like Jesus, who was so kind and loving.  When Jesus came into the city, he was riding a donkey and there were loads of people in the crowd to welcome him, singing out songs of praise – Praise the Lord – here comes the King!  We were all waving palm branches.  It was so exciting!

But then, later that week, we heard that there were people who didn’t like Jesus, who didn’t want him to be king.  In fact, they wanted to do horrible things to him.  They wanted to kill him.  That’s impossible, I thought, after all, I know he’s not scared of death – I’m alive because of him! Again, my parents started to get really worried.  They tried to hide it, but I knew.  Then came that Thursday – a day I will never forget.  We had a meal all together, then Jesus said some strange things about the bread and wine we were eating being his body and blood given for us.  I didn’t understand what he meant at all.  I just noticed that everyone else suddenly became very sad.  It made me sad too.  At the end of the meal we went to the place we were staying and I want to bed.  Later that night, I was woken up by mummy and daddy talking.  I pretended to be asleep, but I heard them saying that Jesus had been arrested.  Powerful people wanted to kill him and there wasn’t anything anyone could do to stop them.  It didn’t seem possible at all.  I didn’t sleep well that night.

The next morning – it was Friday – mummy and daddy were crying. Jesus had been killed.  We were all so sad.  It was so unfair – he’d never done anything wrong.  Poor Jesus.  They had hurt him badly.  Been horrible to him.  How could they?  We were also sad, because everyone had been so happy when he was around.  But all that had gone.

The next day we all cried and cried.  I was so cross that people could be so horrid. 

Part 3

On Sunday, we heard some amazing news – when mummy’s friends Mary went to see where Jesus had been buried, his body had gone.  They didn’t know where.  But then, Mary saw Jesus.  He was alive! It was amazing.  I didn’t believe her – I thought it was a story made to make us feel better, but then later on, we were all together and – there he was – he appeared in the room – he was alive.  I was so excited and ran to him, to give him a hug! He was alive.  He made us all so happy! Because of Jesus we can all be happy.  We don’t need to feel sad any more.

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