Thirty years later...

It was in a village in the geopolitically unstable Near East. The Romans had all but occupied the area for the better part of the century, installing four kings to succeed the client ruler Herod. This arrangement lasted only a few decades before it, too, broke down, and the Romans took direct control of parts of the area while client kings ruled the rest.

None of that concerned Joseph the artisan, who made yokes for a living. It was monotonous work typical of pre-industrial society, and it got only harder as his hair turned to gray and his joints became sore. One of the ways he passed the time was looking at the fair maidens wandering in the village making their debuts - he was greatly embarrassed about still being single despite being well into middle age.

One day, however, he noticed a striking woman fetching water from the well, and was so smitten by her that he rushed up from his yoke and left his shop unattended to run up to her.

"H-hi," he panted, out of breath, and rubbing his left hip in pain, "I... I noticed you were fetching water, and I haven't seen you around. Are you from around here?"

"Yes, I just came of age and this is my first time fetching water by myself," the woman warmly smiled. "Rachel," she introduced herself and held out her hand outstretched.

"Joseph," his hands were so dirty he durstn't touch hers, so he just held them behind his back to kiss it, "nice meeting you. Are you-"

But before he could finish his question, another man - a young adult in a white robe - walked up to Rachel.

"Could you fetch me something to drink?" he asked Rachel in a courteous but assertive tone.

"Certainly!" she ladled some out and gave it to the man.

"You know," the man continued, "you'll draw water out from this well and eventually get thirsty again, but when you draw from me you'll always be satisfied."

"Really?" Rachel chuckled in bemusement, "what does that mean?"

"I'm the son of God," the man continued, "and have the well of the spirit, that it should never thirst."

"You're Jesus the son of Mary and Michael, aren't you?" Rachel continued, and Joseph's countenance fell as he started realizing what was happening.

"Well, I wouldn't say 'son' of Michael..." Jesus jokingly pshawed, "but close enough," he continued chuckling.

"Come, let me introduce you to the village," Rachel took Jesus by the hand and completely ignored Joseph in passing him by.