When Mary Magdalene saw Jesus freed from the tomb she thought he was the gardener, a pleasant image but not enough to divert her rootbound flow of mineral-laden, plant-nourishing tears. Only the sound of her resurrected teacher’s voice calling her name brought the instant of recognition needed by friends. Meanwhile, the ordinary gardener must have been watching secretly enjoying his moment of mistaken identity and smiling as he bent to pluck a blossom wondering if he should call out too, and meet these friends who seemed so comfortable in the presence of angels and thorny weeds.
– Margarita Engle