From Plainsong by Deborah Grabien…
One day, when the Son of God had been long wandering through the halls of heaven, he stopped to rest beside an aged man on a bench of alabaster.
“You look weary, my son,” said the old man.
“I am weary indeed,” the Son answered. “So many days have I wandered, seeking him that was my earthly father.”
“Strange,” said the old man, “but I, too, have grown weary, seeking him that was my earthly son.”
A gleam of hope shot into the Son’s eyes. “My father was a carpenter.”
“I was a carpenter,” said the old man, surprised.
“He was not my father in flesh, yet he treated me as his son all the days of his life.”
“My son was not the son of my loins, either.”
Hope burned bright now in the Son’s eyes. “My father’s name was Joseph.”
“My name, in your tongue, would be Joseph,” said the old man, and great joy came up in his face.
The Son threw wide his arms and embraced the old man. “Father!” he cried with delight, and the old man hugged the Son to his breast and, through his tears of joy, said, “Pinocchio!”