It was a sweltering hot summer day, and the sun was high, casting short, sharp shadows under my feet. Hundreds of people pressed in on all sides of me, trying to get closer to Jesus. Sweat trickled down my back as I craned my neck to try and catch a glimpse, though every person in front of me was too tall to see over. I turned my head to where I knew the sea would be. How I longed to feel the cold water on my face!

Was it worth it? I wondered, wearing a tired frown on my face. I had traveled with my family for two days to come and hear this man named Jesus, yet we could not even see him. The neighbors were telling my father about how he had healed their son, how his teaching was very wise, and so here we were. I didn't quite understand it, but I remembered that the neighbor boy was on the verge of death just last week, but now he was running around with the other children in the street.

With each passing moment the crowd swelled. Father turned to me as he took up little Josiah's hand. "Come, Miriam. Let us go closer." Father led me and Josiah back around the crowd. My toes dragged at the ground, stirring up the dust, but finally we could hear Jesus's voice. He spoke calmly, but his voice still carried far over the hills.

I listened to Jesus for hours and not once did I lose interest, though some of the other children fidgeted restlessly. Soon I noticed the sun was beginning to set. I wondered if Father had brought us food, and my stomach began to growl just at the thought. What was the crowd going to eat? All of the towns were much too far away to get anything.

I watched with interest as a man approached Jesus and said, "The people are beginning to get hungry. Should we send them away to the villages to find food?"

"No," replied Jesus. "Do not send them away. You give them something to eat."

"But, Master, we have nothing to give them."

At this, a little boy stepped forward and quietly handed a basket to Jesus. From where I was sitting, I could just barely make out that the basket was filled with bread and fish. My brows furrowed in confusion. Did the boy think that would be enough to feed the thousands of hungry people waiting for food?

But Jesus only smiled and thanked the boy. He did not seem to mind that there were merely five loaves and two fish. After saying a prayer, he began to break the loaves and fish and hand them out to the people. And the food seemed to multiply. My eyes widened in wonder and I glanced up at Father, maybe to reassure myself that I was seeing it right, maybe to ask him silently how it was being done. I don't quite remember.

Father glanced down at me and said, "Remember this day well, Miriam. You are witnessing a miracle."

Everyone there ate their fill and still eleven baskets of bread and fish were leftover. That day, I learned an important lesson. Although I did gather much from the parables that Jesus taught, I leaned that no matter the circumstances God will always provide us with what we need and more. Today was the beginning of a new understanding for me. One that would stay with me for the rest of my life.

I knew that the story of what happened that day would spread far and very quickly. Maybe the details would be switched beyond recognition. Maybe it would change other people's lives, maybe it wouldn't, but I knew it would change mine. After all, what is there to do after seeing something like this happen? There is nothing to do but believe.

Coming here was definitely worth it, I thought with a small smile appearing on my lips. As we started to walk to the donkeys waiting for us, I glanced back at Jesus. He caught my eye and smiled gently, his expression filled with love.

Surely this man was the Messiah.