her, "Why are you weeping?"
She replies, "Because they have taken away _my Lord_, and I know not where
they have laid Him." Turning back in her grief as the words are spoken,
she sees some one else standing. Again the same question by this One. Why
was she weeping? Whom was she looking for? Her eyes are blinded with the
rain of tears. This is likely the man in charge of the garden wherein this
family tomb was.

With earnest tones she says, "Sir, if _thou_ didst carry Him away, tell me
where thou didst lay Him and _I_ will have Him taken away." Then that one
word came to her ears, her name, in that unmistakable voice, "Mary."
Quicker than a flash came the response, "_Oh, my Master_!" That same
wondrous, quiet voice continues, "Do not continue to be clinging to Me. I
am not yet ascended to my Father. Be going to my brethren and tell them I
ascend to My Father and your Father, My God and your God." And Mary
quickly departs on her glad errand for Him. She was the first to see His
face and hear His voice, and have her hand upon His person, and do
something at His bidding.

And now the other women who had been at the tomb in the garden and fled
away are on the road approaching the city. As they hurry along, to their
utter amazement--here is Jesus in the road approaching them. With a glad
smile in His eyes, the old, sweet voice speaks out in rich tones the usual
simple salutation of greeting, "Good morning." At once they are down on
their knees and faces, holding His feet and worshipping. And Jesus softly
says, "Do not be afraid. Go tell my brethren to meet Me in Galilee, up by
the old blue waters of the sea."

While these incidents were occurring, all in such short time, something
else is going on of a different sort. The Roman soldiers guarding that
tomb had had a great shock. They had been suddenly displaced by another
guard. The sacred Roman seal had been ruthlessly broken, the stone rolled
back from the opening, and some one sat upon it. Their bewildered,
stupefied senses heard the movements and were aware of a strange, blinding
light. Then they knew that the body they were to guard was no longer
within. That was about as much as they could get together. They hurry to
town and tell the chief priests. Quickly the chief priests gather their
clique to confer about this new phase. Was there ever such mulish
obstinacy? No thought of candid investigation seems to enter their mind.
The way of covering this new difficulty is a