Sunday Morning

As Sunday approached, Magda left the house in search of Jesus.   
She wasn't sure what to do, but thought she would try her luck at the mortuary.
When she got there, she found the doors open, and not a soul about.

The spell of disinfectant and rancid fat pervaded the gloom.
At last she found the refrigerated store.
Draws the size of bodies lined the room from floor to ceiling.
On the far side one draw had been left open.
It was empty.  She let out a short scream.
There was the certificate of death that had been tied to Jesus foot.

Magda fled and ran back to find her friends.
She soon bumped into Peter and John who coming towards her.
"The bodies gone" she blurted out, as white as a sheet.
In an instant Peter and John took off.
They sprinted past Magda towards the mortuary.

John got there first and crashed in through the doors.
He found the empty draw.
Refiling through emptiness;
only Jesus' clothing and other bits remained.
"Madga's right, the body has been taken,"
acknowledged Peter, "but where?"
It hadn't clicked that Jesus had told them already what to expect.
"No point in staying here."

_______________________

Magda was in the street crying,
She looked back into the building and saw two people seated behind the reception desk.
They called out to her "What's upsetting you?"
"The body of my dearest friend, has been taken, and I don't know where."
A man was approaching her in the street.
In vain she called out to him, "Do you know where he has been taken?"
The man stopped and held out his arms.
 "Magda."
She looked up, her eyes rising to his.
"Padre" she called out.
She raced towards him; the briefest contact.
"I'm not huggable yet" he smiled.
"I'm here for now, but soon I will be returning to the creator.
Go and tell all our friends that I am alive."

Wrenching herself away, she held this duty tight.
"I have seen our Lord.
That's why there is no body.
He is alive."

She explained everything that had happened.