He just seems to loves everyone.
He brings the good out in people. The people who do get to know him, who take the time to listen to his words until they start to make sense – they love him. Not because of anything he does, but because of what he is.
He once went missing. I found him with a circle of boys round him, shouting at him and throwing stones at his feet to make him ‘dance’.
If something happened to him, I think my heart would really, physically break inside me. So I keep him close.
I heard the Rabbi was out on the hills again and so we set off together, walking till we saw where the crowds had gathered.
I’d heard him before, but once you’ve heard him you just want to hear him again. I could listen forever. As he talked about Heaven I got caught up in his words, for a moment it felt as if we were all there with him.
And then my heart gave a terrible thump as I looked down and saw my little boy was gone. In this great crowd, where anyone could get up to God knows what, and no-one would hear or understand his call for help, my little boy who trusted everyone had disappeared.
I fought to catch my breath as I pushed through the crowds, shouting his name, asking people if they’d seen him.
He was gone. I would never see him again. I hadn’t cared for him enough. I’d lost my precious boy.
Then I saw him – holding out his bread and fish. The Rabbi took them, blessed them, and broke them. And he kept breaking them, but somehow there was always more.
When everyone was eating, he brought my son to me.
‘He gave me everything he had to help me’ he said.
Who will help him now?
You can read about the boy who helped feed 5,000 people here.