(MUMBLE MUMBLE)
(BLUSH BLUSH)
Paul dropped in on Malta and cured my dad of the bloody flux. He was the only man I ever saw who could take a bite from a viper and just shake it off. It was the snake that died.
I made my beef flank steak stuffed with pork sausage for Paul and the guys. I thought they might balk at the pork sausage, but Paul said something about there being new rules about everything being edible from now on. The old Jewish dietary laws were defunct.
He told me stories about his family's tent making business in Jerusalem, and I told him stories about local finance. He was quite educated, and we spent hours discussing Greek philosophy and Roman poetry. He loved showing off his Latin, koine Greek (which we spoke), Hebrew and Aramaic. "Smart ass," I said to him more than once.
Malta isn't exactly a prime spot for intellectual endeavor. You have to go to Alexandria for that, and I hate going off the island unless I have to.
I was sorry to see him go, but he said he had to preach the word of Yesh'ua ibn Yussif around the Mediterranean. (Those Aramaic names are real jawbreakers.) I hope he drops in again. I suggested he make his way to Rome; they could use him there.
Yummy! Happy Birthday!!
That meal alone sounds like it made for a pretty darn good birthday. YUM!
Well Done!
Paul’s buddy Luke was so impressed with your hospitality that he wrote about you in his book!