“Tell us the story!” Siloam cried. The 8-year-old looked eagerly at the faces of her family and friends who were reclining around the table for the Passover meal.

“Which story do you mean?” her mother asked. “We’ve been telling stories all evening.”

“The one about Aunt Mary’s unforgettable Passover,” Siloam said. “It’s my favorite.”

“Sister,” Siloam’s mother said, “would you tell your story?”

“Of course,” Mary said with a smile. “And yes, it was the most unforgettable Passover I’ve ever had. Jesus was only 12. We had all traveled here to Jerusalem, like we do every year. On the first day of our journey home, we stopped for the evening meal. Suddenly we realized Jesus was not with us.”

“What happened next?” Siloam asked.

“Oh, I felt terrible!” Mary said. “Joseph and I looked everywhere. We hurried back to Jerusalem. For three days we searched — frantic with worry.”

“But then you found Him.”

“Yes, Child. We found Him in the temple, listening and talking to the teachers. Jesus explained that He had been doing His Father’s work.” Mary reached across the table and squeezed Siloam’s hand. “It was the most unforgettable Passover I’ve ever had.”

Siloam smiled into Mary’s eyes. She loved hearing the story about her favorite relative. “Where is Jesus tonight?” she asked.

“Yes,” said one of Siloam’s uncles. “Why isn’t Jesus here with His family celebrating the Passover?”

Siloam’s mother spoke up. “I saw Peter today,” she explained. “He thought there might be something special about this Passover. Jesus wanted to spend it with the disciples.”

“But why is this Passover more special than any other year?” Siloam wanted to know. She tried to hide an unexpected yawn.

“I don’t know,” Siloam’s mother said. “But special or not, it’s somebody’s bedtime!”

It had been a busy day. Siloam hugged everyone goodnight and went to her room. Soon she was fast asleep.

When Siloam awoke the next morning, she realized she had slept late. It was quiet — too quiet. Siloam got up quickly and went to find her mother.

There she was, sitting on a bench outside, crying quietly.

“What’s wrong, Mother?” Siloam asked softly.

“It’s Jesus,” her mother whispered. “They have arrested Him and sentenced Him to death. Everyone has gone to see.”

Siloam couldn’t believe it. There must be some mistake. Why would anyone arrest Jesus? He is gentle and kind! Siloam thought about how Jesus sometimes picked her up and tossed her into the air. She remembered the feeling of His scratchy robe against her cheek when He hugged her close. Jesus was her favorite relative. This can’t be happening! she thought. But it was.

The next three days were a whirl of confusion. Family members and friends came and went. Some spoke in sad, hushed voices. Others were angry and loud. Siloam learned that Jesus had died a robber’s death, hanging on a cross, and been buried in a nearby tomb.

On Sunday morning, Siloam awoke with a start. Fear filled Siloam’s heart when she remembered what had happened to Jesus.

“Mother!” Siloam called.

“Over here, Child.”

Siloam scrambled over to her mother’s sleeping mat and nestled against her.

Then Siloam heard voices outside — women’s voices. They sounded very excited.

Siloam and her mother jumped up and ran outside.

“We have seen Jesus!” the women were saying. “He is alive!”

Siloam searched the faces of the small crowd. She saw her Aunt Mary and went to stand by her side.

“I don’t understand,” Siloam whispered.

“Don’t you see?” Mary asked, her face shining with joy. “Jesus died on Friday. We thought we had lost Him forever. But now He is alive again, just as the prophets said. He was not lost. Like that Passover so many years ago, Jesus has been busy doing His Father’s work. He has brought salvation to the world!”

Siloam squeezed her aunt’s hand. “Then this is the most unforgettable Passover of all!”

“Yes!” Mary agreed. “From now on, everyone will remember this special Passover. Jesus died, but now He is alive. Truly He is the Savior of the world!”