She replied, “As the Lord your God lives, I have no bread, only a handful of flour is left in a jar and a little bit of olive oil in a jug. Right now I am gathering a few sticks so I can go and cook what's left for myself and my son so we can eat it, and then we'll die.”
But the woman whose son was alive had so much love for him as a mother that she cried out to the king, “Please, Your Majesty, give her the boy! Don't kill him!” But the other woman said, “He won't be mine or yours—cut him in two!”
Really? Can a mother forget her nursing baby? Can she forget to be kind to the child she carried in her womb? Even if she could forget, I will never forget you!
Oh my people, put on sackcloth and roll around in ashes. Mourn and cry bitterly like you would for an only son, because the destroyer will come down on you suddenly.
I will turn your festivals into times of mourning, your happy songs into laments. I will make you wear sackcloth and shave your heads. I will make your mourning like that for an only son. At the end of it all it will be a bitter day.
I will pour out a spirit of grace and prayer on the house of David and the inhabitants of Jerusalem. They will look at me whom they pierced, and they will wail in grief over him, mourning as for an only child, weeping bitterly as for a firstborn.
So he left and went home to his father. Even though he was still far away in the distance, his father saw him coming, and his heart went out to his son. The father ran to his son, hugging and kissing him.