The Conversion of Zacchaeus.
By Maria Valtorta
17th July 1944.I see a large square, which looks like a market and is shaded by palms and other lower leafy trees. he palm!trees grow here and there, without any order and their top lea"es rustle in the warm upper bree#e, which raises a reddish dust, as if it came from a desert or from unculti"ated places of reddish earth. he other trees, instead, form shady porches along the sides of the square, and "endors and buyers ha"e taken shelter under them, in a restless shouting din.In a corner of the square, e$actly where the main road leads into it, there is a primiti"e e$cise office. here are scales and measures, and a bench at which is sat a little man who o"ersees, watches and deals in cash and to whom e"erybody speaks, as if he were "ery well known. I know that he is %acchaeus, the e$ciseman, as many people address him, some to ask about the e"ents of the town, and they are mainly strangers, some to pay their ta$es. &any are surprised at seeing him worried. 'e seems in fact absent!minded and engrossed in thought. 'e replies in monosyllables and at times with gestures, which ama#es many, who know that %acchaeus is usually talkati"e. (ome ask him