Courtesy of Amazon

The mailbox here has been here for near 40 years.  It is rusted in spots.  The layers of paint I've put on it over the years are flaking.  It's one of those things you live with so long, you stop noticing, you know?  Well, I ordered a new one, and it came today.

It's the large package on the bottom. Amazon put my mailbox box inside a box.  This from a company that once sent me a single bag of dog treats with the address label on it.

At the top there is the book I'm currently reading.  It is thoroughly fascinating.  The author is moving up the size chain: krill, insects, fish, birds, which is where I am now.

An Amazon scroll recently took me here:

Now, I've got nothing against Jesus.  At all.  The peace sign on the packaging is a bit misplaced time-wise, though.  (Also, a girl I went to elementary school with, whenever she saw any of us drawing a peace sign, would launch into a lecture on how peace signs are actually broken crosses.  This was the late-60s;  we were going to draw peace signs.  Teardrop-shaped ones were considered ultra-groovy.)

Looking at the multitude of Jesuses, a few drew my attention.  You've got the Pentecostal, with their arms up in praise.  You've got the contemplative, heads down while in thought.  You've got the shepherds, the halo-bearing, but the one that almost immediately drew my attention is the one behind the red-robed Jesus in front.  He is draped in blue, and seems particularly sad.  Downtrodden.  He's the only one.  Perhaps the other Jesuses should check in on him.