As the morning sun rose, it began to illuminate
a scene that was already building in anticipation and joyful promise.
From all directions they came, and from all walks of life they
came—carpenters, widows, maids, day laborers, thieves, farmers,
beggars, fishermen, stonemasons, musicians, prostitutes, landowners.
They came with smiles and greetings, kisses and conversations, helping
hands and worshipful hearts—embracing one another in the peculiarity of
They came to a house in southwest Jerusalem, a house that had taken on a distinctive spirit of its own since the Pentecost celebration several weeks before. It was then that the Spirit of the living God visited that house in a powerful way, and since then neither the house nor those who were inside at the time had been the same.
The house was prepared for the arrival of the people and for an encounter with the divine. The main room was cleared except for a table in the center covered with festive African cloth, which was laden with fruit, a large loaf of fresh bread and a wineskin dripping.
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