Explore "The Greatest Story Ever Told" by Fulton Oursler on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Ir was now the time of the Passover, the greatest of all celebrations in Israel. From the sea and from over the caravan routes of mountains and deserts, by ships and camels and walking barefoot, travelers by thousands and scores of thousands turned weary and sweaty faces toward Jerusalem. No matter how tiring, they must make the journey, for the Pasch was coming: the great Passover feast commemorating the night when the Lord, smiting the first born of the Egyptians, passed harmlessly over the houses of the children of Israel. All devout souls who could possibly do so wanted to make their way to the Temple at Jerusalem. For seven days they would join in the prayers, offering up the paschal lamb in the traditional sacrifice and eating the unleavened bread.
Soft spring lay over that hard city on the great height. Time for the cuckoo to sing and new little flowers to bloom. Time of the racing of the sap and a sense of resurrection in human bodies and thoughts, when life renews itself.