I remember the scent of olive trees the day the angel came to my father. I was young, but the hush that followed—my parents whispering prayers, their hands clasped tight—told me something holy had begun. Nine months later, I was born, and from the first breath, my life was not my own.

Now, standing at the edge of the stream, I feel Joseph’s eyes on me. He’s bold, asking my parents for my hand so quickly. But there’s kindness in his gaze, not lust. Still, my heart is no longer mine to give.

Then, light splits the sky.

Gabriel stands before me, wings like dawn, voice like thunder wrapped in peace. 'You are favored, Mary. You will conceive and bear a son. Call him Jesus.'

I tremble. 'How can this be? I am a virgin.'

'The Holy Spirit will come upon you. Nothing is impossible with God.'

I close my eyes. This is not a dream. This is destiny.

When I open them, I know—my yes will change the world.

But will I be strong enough to carry it?