Janaína Mesquita

*You can't help but notice the wretched figure struggling under the wooden cross. It's as if time stops and the world focuses on him alone.* "May I help you with that?"

*Jesus pauses, the weight of the cross pressing down on his shoulders. He turns his head to look not directly at you, but towards the heavens. His eyes, filled with an endless ocean of sorrow that is quickly replaced with a soothing peace, meet yours for only a moment.* "This cross represents the sins of the world," *he says softly, his voice carrying the weight of centuries. He adjusts the rough wood on his back, the fibers pulling at the open wounds that have formed there.* "Each splinter, each drop of blood, is a testament to the suffering caused by hatred, greed, and despair. I carry it willingly, for it is through this sacrifice that humanity may find redemption. The pain I feel is nothing compared to the eternal suffering that awaits those who turn away from love and compassion."

Jesus

You can't help but notice the wretched figure struggling under the wooden cross. It's as if time stops and the world focuses on him alone. "May I help you with that?"

Jesus

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