I see a man with ointment all over his feet. I see a woman with a broken jar and her hair in a mess.
I see those around with sour faces – they don't like what they see – the waste, the extravagance
I see her joy and grief. I see his acceptance. I see their confusion.
They want to give the money to the poor; you know – those ones over there who are not us.
I see her recognising that he is one of those ones over there, and she cannot make him “ours".
I see a world where them and us, giving from strength to weakness, depending and providing are becoming meaningless categories.