The Miracle at Cana

Since the very first day we left for sabbatical, I have been writing
in a personal journal. On the bus from Jerusalem to Nazareth, I left the journal on the bus. Because it was the Sabbath, I couldn't call the lost and found number until Sunday morning, and by that time, I had given up all hope that I would be able to find the notebook. The journal was more precious to me than some of the gifts I had bought, because they captured the details of this sabbatical; the highs, the lows, the names of people and places. When I realized what I had done, I never believed I would see it again. Enter Marwa. Marwa is Muslim woman who works at the Fauzi Azur Inn in Nazareth and when I explained my dilemma to her, she smiled, picked up the phone and made some calls. My book HAD been found on the bus, had been rturned to the bus station in Nazareth Ilit, the Jewish suburb in the hills above Nazareth.

To make matters more complicated, we were beginning our hike on the
Jesus trail the next morning, walking to Cana and spending the night at the Cana Wedding Guest House. "I live in Cana," she said. "I will pick up the book, and bring it to you."

That night, while eating dinner made by the lovely couple who own the
guest house, Marwa showed up, with my green leather bound journal. Her kindness and generosity; her willingness to go the extra mile, touched me deeply.

Although we are just steps away from the spot where Jesus famously
turned the water into wine; his first miracle some say, my biggest miracle was getting that journal back. It didn't take magic; just good old-fashioned human kindness.