We are on our way home from Good Friday service. It is dark. It is silent. "Sunday," says Hanna, "Jesus will be rosing from the dead."
	It must have been like that. A white blossom, or maybe a red one, pulsing from the floor of the tomb, reaching round the Easter stone and levering it aside with pliant thorns. The soldiers overcome with the fragrance, and Mary at sunrise mistaking the dawndewed Rose of Sharon for the untameable Gardener.

Paul Willis is professor of English at Westmont College.

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