3 A.D. HTML version
Copyright © 2003 by Billie Matejka
The members of MOBS (Midnight Oil Burners), helped tremendously, reading this manuscript numerous times,
I‟d especially like to thank Jane Osinski, who never stopped encouraging and pushing me to finish. To Deanna
Durbin, my thanks for asking questions so I‟d have to do additional research. To Peggy Weagraff who never
seemed to tire of reading and editing.
To Mary Shaw, whom I met at MOBS, and who later began The Christian Writers‟ Club. So many people from
this club helped tremendously by encouraging every step of the way. Mary Beasley, who edited the book.
Barbara Pugh, who has read and reread the completed work, keeping errors to a minimum.
To Liesl Hynes, who spent so much time, talent and energy into making the cover a work of art.
To Tom Hendricks, a friend who never gave up on me.
This is a FICTIONAL account of events that could have happened some 2000 years ago.
Since there is no actual diary of Mary‟s life nor the lives of people she touched, I knew the story must conform
with the one related in the Bible as closely as possible.
Research let me in on a few secrets...not nearly as many as I would have liked. My imagination led the rest of
I pray this book offends no one...only that it will show people how Mary and her family lived in those days. I
also wished to show her as an ordinary person given an extraordinary job to accomplish.
Through Mary‟s eyes, this well-researched novel immerses the reader into the everyday life in Bible times. The
author‟s holy imagination, engaging style and gifted writing present an intimate and enthralling story of the
Holy Family. She has created a glorious “what if?” which leaves the reader only wishing it was fact.
Barbara Pugh, Author
I was privileged to see the story unfolding as the author prayerfully and thoughtfully developed it. She truly
entered into the personage of Mary to capture the attitude and feelings of this special handmaiden of God. A
remarkable and enjoyable work!”
As I looked upward, the sun blurred my vision, blotting the terrible sight silhouetted against a cloudless sky. My
sister squeezed my shoulders tightly as I wiped dust and tears with a cloth that hadn‟t been clean since...who
could say when?