The Camel Knows

"Ali" looked on, nobly, as camels do, and he was quiet as a mouse. Ali was a caricature of himself, Jack thought, and he hadn't changed at all since Jack saw him last - 10 years ago, on this hill, looking over the Old City of Jerusalem.  "Come-on man, just 10 sheckel's - I lose money at that price - just 10 - ok!?"  The Arab vendor draped the scarf over Jack's head and shoulders.  "You look real good man!"  "OK then, but take my picture with the city in the background - get the dome in too", said Jack. 

 

Jack could hear the tour guide behind him - Hilek - explaining to the group the details of the valley that lay between this hill and the city walls of Jerusalem.  The multiple burial sites, Muslim, Jews and Christians - all staking their claim on sacred ground. 

  

Hilek was a bit too 'politically correct', Jack thought, and chuckled to himself.  They don't all win, in the end, when the Messiah passes through here, He won't care much about the graves - He won't even notice the graves when he enters the city gate. Everyone, everywhere, will bow to Jesus - but for those who didn't believe, before he arrived, it will be too late.

  

Ali knows it -  he's heard it all, from every angle, for years, in every language, as he looks over the City, year-after-year-after-year.  "The camel surly knows the truth", Jack thought.  Ali's ancestors carried those Kings, with all those gifts - to see the baby - just north of here in a small town.  So it's in his blood - passed from generation to generation. 

 

 "The camel knows", Jack smiled.