 Family Theater presents Anne Blythe, Jeff Chandler, Joan Evans, and Marina Koschatz. That's right. As the last of its special holiday program, the Mutual Network, in cooperation with Family Theater and the Catholic Daughters of America, presents the Finding in the Temple, starring Anne Blythe and Jeff Chandler, with Marina Koschatz as soloist. Joan Evans will be your hostess. And his parents were one to go every year to Jerusalem at the Feast of the Passover. And when he was 12 years old, they won up to Jerusalem according to the custom of the feast. I was barely more than a child myself, though older than my cousin and my lord, when we made that pilgrimage to the great holy city. We journeyed of course in caravan, companies of relatives and friends, and this not alone for companionship, but of necessity. For numerous bandits still infested the country and would continue to do so for many years. Thus we traveled every Passover. Cleophas, my father, and my mother, whose name was Mary too. And my three brothers, James and Joseph and Simon. We were related to Jesus, but of his identity and mission we did not dream. And I and Jude Thaddeus. And I called Joseph and my lady Mary, my uncle and my aunt. I remember how we young boys looked forward to the journey. All of our people up to that time had been commanded by the most high to eat the pasque and worship at the temple on this great feast, memorial of our nation's deliverance from Egypt. Twenty years later, when we boys were grown, we would eat another pasque in Jerusalem. He would take the unleavened bread of the feast into his holy and venerable hands, and with his eyes lifted up to heaven, to God his Father, and giving thanks. My divine kinsman would break it and give it to us, his disciples now, saying, take and eat ye all of this, for this is my body. And taking the cup of wine into his hands and giving thanks to his Father, he would command us to take and drink all of it. For it would be the chalice of his blood, the blood of the Lamb, of the Lamb without spot. But all that was far ahead of us, hidden from our eyes, though not from his, and he was in the company. He said nothing, and indeed he said very little now that I think of it, though he was cheerful and a good companion, a lad who listened more than he talked, and who often laughed, but who seldom smiled. Besides his family and ours, our party included the fisherman's ebode and his wife, Salome, who had come from Bethsaida with their sons, James and John. James was a big fellow. My own brother, James, was called the less. Not that he was less lively than the son of Zebedee, but he was short. John was the littlest, younger than any of us. He had not yet made his bombets for the ceremony when a boy became a full-fledged son of the law. In our times, boys made the bombets for at the age of 12. Jesus had just become bombets for them. We boys, of course, if we had made bombets for, were privileged to ride on donkeys or trample alongside the men. We were jealous of this right. The little fellows, those under the age of 12, belonged with the children in the company of the women, and with great righteousness we saw that they stayed there. We encamped by night in the cons at Enganum, Sihar, Silo. We paused at Jacob's well and prayed at the tomb of that other Joseph, whose bones had been brought by Moses from the land of Egypt. We crossed Samaria. How we young zealots hated the Samaritans, a rude lot who hated us, too, who would give us no water, who covered open ditches with bow so that we might fall in, whose children would stand at a distance and throw rocks. We caught one of them, big James of Zebedee, and I. We would have taught him civility with a donkey switch, but that Jesus intervening bad us let him go. And though we were older and familiar with Jesus, we felt somewhat of shame. And then the young Samaritan who had been fighting and kicking melted at the sight of Jesus. He brought us to his father's well and we drank our fill and our beasts also. And for Jesus' sake, the Samaritans at that place, grown as well as children, would have loaded us with figs and wine. And this betwixt Samaritan in Galilean had never, never happened before. Until at last we sighted Jerusalem. Holy city. City of the temple. Where the high priest himself blows the trumpet, the chauffer. And the holy of holies is preserved. The streets were filled in packed like narrow bushel measures to sprawling overflow. By precept of our nation, all devout men of Hebrew faith, both born and proselytes, those who could, journeyed hither to break unleavened bread, so that in that week each year the population swelled above a million souls. Unimpressive perhaps to you, my later brethren, but a concourse most tremendous in one city in our day. We worshiped in the temple. And in our midst, with lighter taper in his hand, stood Jesus, younger than most of us, he was solemn too. But here was no boyish affectation, but intercommunion, ecstatic, though how could we guess it then with his own heavenly father, who was our most high God. It was as if he were worshiping himself. And Joseph the carpenter, my uncle, standing beside him, proud and patronizing as any father, must suddenly have realized what secretly he knew. For we saw him glance at the boy, then trembling raised his arm to hide his face, as Moses in the wilderness had doffed his shoes. On the first day of the week, and all duties fulfilled, we joined together at the Jaffa Gate, and our caravan started home. We split into two companies, for a Roman detachment was going north partway to Ephraim. Hence we felt safe from brigands, if not from the Romans. And not seeing Jesus, we supposed him with the second party, a few miles to the rear. Truthfully, we thought little of it, though we perceived Joseph in our company, and my Lady Mary also riding in the center of the group with the other women and the children. Darkness found us at Birof, which the Arabs call Elbira to this day. Here was the caravan serving. And now our families reassembled. I saw my Lady Mary, but her eyes were wide, and her face paled when she looked in vain for Jesus. Jude, Jude, my son, where is Jesus? Alas, there was fear in her voice. She who was always serene. And how could I, a lad of fifteen, a bumpkin to boot know the continual apprehension that always was direct in her heart. And in the kindly heart of Joseph, since the prophecy of Simeon when Jesus was a babe, she hurried to Joseph. Joseph, Joseph, where is he? Why, is he not with you? Oh, Joseph, he has not been with us all day. Nor with me. Zebedee, have you seen our son? No, wait! Oh, Joseph, those Romans, do you think? Is he not here? Why, I suppose, him with the women. And so did I, though how slow I am to grow accustomed. For since the last journey, he has made bar mitzvah, and that is why Mary believed he was with us. Mary, she has gone. Nay, there she is, talking with the Roman officer. Strange, he appears courteous. Jonah, friend, is my son with you? Oh, neither is he with the soldiers, though they said some of the boys that would be my sons, but not Jesus. Let us search among the families. I will help. Joseph, go with your wife. I'll ask these people. Frantically, in the most unusual mood for Mary and Joseph. They, with my father, Cleophas and with Zebedee, scour the caravansary. Finally... Hold on. The other party, following us, may pass the other way. Surely we see they're not here. They'll probably camp at Jifna. I will go ahead to Jifna. James, my son, help Joseph. Get his beast. Many thanks. Take care of Mary. I cannot wait here. I must know. I shall go with you. We watched them as they left us, braving lions and braving thieves. And they went still farther from Jerusalem to the caravansary at Jifna. They prayed the whole way, the cry of a mother's agony to the Lord. And then... Have you seen our son? We have lost our son. Nobody had seen him. Oh, Joseph. What are we to do? The deposit of heaven. The Son of God. Our son? You who have ever missed a child, lost perhaps for but an hour, see if there be any sorrow like this sorrow. They prayed the whole way. Oh, God, hear my prayer, and let my cry come unto thee. From the ends of the earth I cry to thee, for my heart is faint. He alone is my rock, my salvation, my defense. In no way shall I waver. They made a torch to lift every abandoned system where he might have fallen and broken his neck. There were many such. Eagerly looking, yet afraid to look, they detoured to see every boulder that might in the dark have seemed a body. By dawn they were outside of Jerusalem. At the first watch of daylight, weary but scorning rest, they crowded inside with others through the city gate. Joseph, Joseph, this is the Jaffa gate. Could he have gone with other friends through a different gate? We have no other friends here that we know about. Wait, I will ask the men of the guard. But the Roman guard laughed him to scorn. How, how could they remember, even if the guard had not changed since yesterday? One face, one boy, one provincial in all this crowd of thousands. I will search the street of the tentmakers. Do you recall the beggar he befriended? While you go to Joanna's. If I pray you, let us search together. For the Lord has given me you for comfort to lean upon. As you will, but let us hurry. Beggar in the street of the tentmakers had died. Who knows what words the son of God spoke in his ear before he died. All others, too, of whom they inquired, had not seen Jesus or did not remember. For here, as I have said, was a swarm of a million souls, most of them visitors, strangers from abroad, a million people and more, including cutthroats, kidnappers and worse, as well as the devout. Or when a million are gathered together, be sure Satan is in the midst of them. A million souls. Not all of Israel, but of many nations. And this before your day of police systems and telephones and missing persons bureaus. Too, it was a fault of our times and even of our nation, but no one was much interested in strangers or their troubles. Who pitied Mary and Joseph? Wanton knew the Romans went boldly into the Antonia Citadel itself. He begged the centurion in charge to lend him a detail of men. This, the centurion refused. He had no men for such a trivial purpose, though he offered his best wishes. No, no child stealers had been apprehended. No, no crimes of violence had been reported that day. Wait, fellow, you might tell your friends to search the wine shops. The wine shops. The very suggestion was well nigh but, though not intended so, this Gentile recalled his own youth and knew that in Rome, young boys began early to carouse. Course jests there were, yet more than one ruffian that night felt his heart melt within him and not a few joined in the search and themselves sought in places where, by reason of respect, they would not permit Mary or Joseph to follow. For there is good in the human heart, even the most degraded some of those derelicts are with us tonight in heaven. But a second morning had disclosed no clue, not the slightest trace. My Lady Mary was nigh unto fainting, for she had taken no food since two days, no rest. Gently Joseph forced her to stop and eat a little, though I doubt if he ate it all himself. They were hopeless. The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away. Blessed be the name of... Oh Joseph, Joseph. We had him for twelve glorious years. Let us go to the temple and offer our broken hearts as a sacrifice to the Lord. He was in the midst of the doctors asking and answering questions so that they marveled and all said, it is either Daniel or else an angel. Son, son, why hast thou done so? Behold, thy father and I have sought thee, sorrowing. Why did you seek me, mother? Did you not know I must be about my father's business? As a man, he was subject to them. But as God and the Son of God, he had his mission. The doctors and priests must be notified beforehand of his presence on earth. Though he spoke not outright, I have heard that they discussed the coming of the Messiah, which was expected then according to all prophecies. Then he went down with them from the temple and back to Nazareth and was subject to them. And his mother kept all these things carefully in her heart. And my cousin Jesus advanced in wisdom and age and grace before God and men. Our family theatre presents Joan Evans. I think all of us have heard the expression it is better to give than to receive. It means being kind, giving of ourselves and our services to others, performing those little acts of thoughtfulness and consideration that will make life more pleasant for those about us. You know, the unique thing about kindness is that it's something very contagious. A kind word or act on our part will not only bring happiness and encouragement to others, it'll do more. It will inspire others to be kind. In a home, in a family, kindness helps so much. Being constantly thoughtful and considered of the feelings and needs of one another makes a home the happy and contented place it should be. A place where all are working together in peace and harmony. To be truly kind we must forget ourselves, have our thoughts on someone else, someone who is the source of kindness. God. And our thoughts are lifted to God by prayer, family prayer. So to bring kindness into your home with all the blessings that flow from it, pray together as a family. Pray together tonight. Remember, the family that prays together stays together. More things are left by prayer than this world dreams of. From Hollywood the Mutual Network, in cooperation with Family Theater and the Catholic Daughters of America, has presented The Finding in the Temple, starring Anne Blythe and Jeff Chandler with Joan Evans as your hostess. Marina Koshets was soloist. The script was written by Fred Neblot Jr. with music composed and conducted by Harry Zimmerman and was directed for Family Theater by Joseph F. Mansfield. This series of Family Theater broadcasts is made possible by the thousands of you who feel the need for this type program, by the Mutual Network which has responded to this need and by the hundreds of stars of stage screen and radio who give so unselfishly of their time and talent to appear on our Family Theater stage. To them and to you, our humble thanks. This is George Crowell expressing the wish of Family Theater that the blessing of God may be upon you and your home and inviting you to be with us next week when Family Theater will present Gene Cagney and Jack Haley in The Adventures of Patsy. Join us, won't you? Family Theater is broadcast throughout the world and originates in the Hollywood studios of the world's largest network, the Mutual Broadcasting System.