One

Solitary

Life

He was born in an obscure village, the

child of a peasant woman

He grew up still another village,

where he worked in a carpenter shop

until he was thirty. then for three

years he was an itinerant preacher.

He never wrote a book He never held

an office. He never had a family or

owned a house. He Didn't go to college.

He never visited a big city.

He never traveled two Hundred miles

from the place where he was born. He

did none of the things one usually

associates with greatness.

He had no credentials but himself.

He was only thirty-three when tide

of public opinion turned against him.

His friends ran away. He was turned

over to his enemies and went through

the mockery of a trial. he was nailed

to cross Between two thieves. While
he was dying, his executioners gambled

for his clothing, the only property he
had on earth.

When he was dead, he was laid in a

Borrowed grave through the pity of a

friend.

Nineteen Centuries have come and gone,

and Today he is the central figure of

the human race and the leader of

mankind's Progress. All the armies that

ever marched, all the navies that ever

Sailed, all the parliament that ever sat,

all the king that ever regained, put

together, have not affected the life of

man on this earth as much as that

One Solitary Life