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The First Christmas It had been a long day, as a matter of fact a long week. The travel from Galilee to Bethlehem had been slow of necessity due to Mary’s condition. Now they had finally found a place to lie down, albeit only a stable with some hay for a bed, but still it was a place to rest. Mary was about as comfortable as could be under these circumstances. “Joseph,” she asked demurely, “What do you really think about our child?” “Our child?” he said, his voice trailing up questioningly. “I think it’s your child.” “I know, you are not the father, but in reality it will be our child to raise. The angel visited you, too, so you are part of this plan of God. I guess that’s what I’m asking. Do you believe this child is of God?” “Mary, I was raised in the Law. I am a God-fearing man, obeying the laws and tenets of our religion, and I trust the Lord, but...” “But what,” Joseph?” she asked. “This is so unusual, it seems like a dream and I find myself, not questioning the Lord, but questioning my understanding of what the angel said to me. Mary, we are two ordinary people that have been caught up in the plans of the Lord and I find myself asking why? Why were you and I chosen of all the people in the world to be the parents of his son?” “And we’ve endured hard looks and questioning stares,” she said. “Some refuse to even touch us for fear they will become impure. Why your family has all but banished you from their table.” “Yes, but we have committed ourselves to the Lord and his purposes and if this baby is from the Lord, he will work all this out for good,” he said. “And if it isn’t of the Lord?” she asked, her voice trailing off. “If it isn’t of the Lord, that will become clear and we will suffer the consequences...but the Lord will vindicate us.” They grew silent as they rested from their journey, lost in their thoughts and eating bread and vegetables. A small fire in a pot offered warmth as they huddled under their robes. Then Mary’s body stiffened slightly bringing Joseph from his thoughts. Mary, are you alright?” “I’m not sure. I feel different and I think I’ve had a contraction. Oh, I wish my mother was here with us.” “So do I, Mary, so do I. Maybe I should talk with the innkeeper to see if there is a midwife nearby. We are totally unprepared for this event that seems to be about to happen.” He made sure she was covered with his outer robe and then left to find the innkeeper. To Mary it seemed like he was gone for an eternity and she was glad when he came back through the door. “What took you so long?” she asked. “Oh, it wasn’t very long, just seemed that way. I’m sorry I had to leave you, I know how frightening it must have been.” “I was afraid you had second thoughts about the baby and maybe had left,” she said. “I won’t leave you. Though I have doubts about myself and my ability to understand the Lord, I have no doubt it is the Lord’s will for me to be with you,” he affirmed. “Did you find a midwife?” she asked. “Yes, the innkeeper’s wife is a midwife and has delivered many children. She will be here as soon as she gathers her things.” It wasn’t long before the midwife came into the stable. Her husband came with her and brought a larger pot with wood and another pot with water. Soon they had a larger fire going with the water pot sitting on top. She had brought an arm full of cloths of various sizes. After her husband started the fire and brought in extra wood, he left and the midwife began to examine Mary, feeling her stomach and asking her questions. When she had finished the examination she pronounced her ready to deliver and put an onion on a string around her neck to “kill the pain and make the delivery easy” she said. Her name was Zora and Mary asked if she believed in God. “Yes, I suppose I do. I’ve watched the gray-heads and pious ones around town for a good many years and I go to the temple every few years, but,” she said emphatically, “But, I’m not sure I believe in some of these people who claim to have all the answers.” “Oh?” Mary interjected. “But, then, sometimes I wonder about things.” “What things?” Mary asked. “Well, for instance, why does God let these heathen Romans beat us down!” “I’ve never thought about that,” Mary said. “Well, I have and I got questions. These Romans are descended from barbarians. When they were fighting amongst themselves and eating one another, we were worshiping God. When the Lord gave us the Ten Commandments, they weren’t even a thought yet. Now, why are they enslaving us and have been doing it for a hundred years? Where is God when these Godless Romans kill our people?” She sat back on her leg folded under her as if she were gathering energy for another run at this question, but then simply said, “I guess I believe in God, but my believing is wearing mighty thin. If God is God, then why do these idol-worshiping-johnny-come-latelys run the world?” “Maybe we haven’t been faithful to the Lord and he’s letting us see what it’s like when someone is not faithful to us,” suggested Mary. “You sound like one of them prophets, uh, Jeremiah, or Ezekiel or the like,” she said with a laugh. “I’m not a prophet, but God has spoken to me before,” Mary volunteered as Joseph cut his eyes at her as if to say, “Don’t go there, Mary!” “Get out of here!” the midwife said in mock surprised. “What did the Lord say to you?” “Well, he said my child would be a special child.” “Honey, every woman’s child is special,” she said matter of factly. “When my boy was born, I wanted to name him Moses cause I was convinced he was going to be a great leader just like the great Lawgiver. Turned out, he takes care of sheep, which may be a precursor to being Moses, since that’s what Moses did first.” “But my son will be special in another way,” she said as Joseph was showing signs of becoming more agitated at this conversation. “And what way is that, Mary,” she asked. “Do you believe in Messiah?” Mary asked. “Honey, I’ve been hearing about Messiah for a hundred years...nope, I ain’t a hundred yet, but I feel like it!” she said laughing at her own joke. “These preachers when times get hard they begin to preach Messiah. Well, I hope he comes soon.” “He is,” Mary said with an air of finality to her voice. “You saying your child is going to be the Messiah?” she asked. “That’s what the angel told me and also my husband,” Mary answered. “Why do you think the Lord would choose you in of all places, a stable? Don’t you think just maybe he’d pick a little better place, say a palace, and just a few notches higher on the social scale?” she said, her voice rising in sarcasm. “Yes, that does seem logical,” Mary admitted, “But, as I look at our history, while God did choose some from the upper echelons of society, the vast majority were from low estates, shepherds, farmers and the like, seemingly unfit for the high calling he had for them. My husband and I were just discussing this very question and we do not know why we were chosen, but we were and we trust the word of the Lord.” “I don’t know, honey, maybe you're right,” she said to Mary. “I certainly hope you're right.” Their conversation fell silent as they prepared for that first Christmas. Mary thinking about the implications of her words to her life; Joseph gaining strength and confidence in his soul from his wife’s faith; and the midwife simply praying, “Lord, may this young girl’s words be true.”
© Copyright 2003 Writer of the Winds (UN: caracas at Writing.Com).
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