The road was dry and treacherous, winding through the hills. By the roadside, a young man, son of Mr. Manasseh, a well-known tycoon, lay unconscious, robbed of everything he carried. His rich garments were torn, his dignity stripped. Many passed him by. A priest, head high, crossed to the other side. A merchant hesitated but thought better of it; after all, what good could come from getting involved? Even those who knew his father turned their faces away. At the hottest hour of the day, a man of wealth and standing rode past in his grand carriage. His robes were fine, his servants loyal. Joseph, for that was his name, was not just any man; he was a Samaritan landowner with flourishing vineyards and a house bustling with servants. When Joseph saw the boy lying helpless, his heart was stirred. Without caring for the dust that would stain his cloak or the danger of thieves still lurking, he stepped down from his carriage. He knelt beside the boy, spoke gently to him, and order...