Joseph and Mary and the story of the Stable.
WHO AM I?
I’m Joseph. Mary is my wife. And, all
my best laid plans and hopes have totally gone wrong. These are strange times.
The town is full and the Innkeeper would not make way for two desperate souls
but said he was being generous by letting us spend the night in this foul
stable. Not one empty space? No warmth? No light? But inside, the rich folk eat
and drink and sleep on feather beds.
Are their hearts so filled with
themselves that they have no room for anyone else? An inn full of people whose
hearts are filled with themselves and poor folk turned away for lack of money?
And the Innkeeper calls this generosity?
Are we to have our child in this foul
stable? Where there is no light. No warmth. No food.
And the taxes are due. I guess I’ll
have to sell the donkey.
Dark times. These are dark times for
poor folk.
But Mary always looks on the bright
side. She doesn’t think these are dark times. She keeps focusing on the baby
which will be born any time now and she says these are NOT dark times. Her
Angel has told her that the child will be the Light of the World. The world has
rejected us. The world rejects the light.
WHY AM I HERE?
The trip for Mary and I here to
Bethlehem, because we have to pay the taxes, was – well, a week of sleeping on
cold stones and wet ground by poor campfires. She rode the donkey during the
day to save her strength for labor.
The hour of our child’s birth is nearly
upon us. I doubt if the birth will wait much longer. We are so alone. No
friends, no family, no wise woman to help Mary during the moment of the birth.
Strangers in a heartless town in the darkness of unknowing.
Now we have fidgeting pigeons in the
rafters, chickens wandering about, a cow, two goats and several curious cats. I
am grateful that the cow is happy and only shifts her weight against her bale
and lows softly.
And, here I am taking the cow’s straw
to build up a pallet for Mary. What will our child lie upon? His mother’s soft
breasts amidst a cold, spiky world.
“Isn’t it wonderful to have three walls
to keep off the wind? And a roof to keep out the ice?” Mary said cheerfully.
"I’m grateful for the animals, aren’t you?”
WHAT DO I WANT?
Mary lies back on the pallet atop my
outer cloak.
When I sell the donkey in the morning
to pay the taxes, perhaps I will have some extra to pay for a room for Mary to
have our child in a place with light and warmth.
And then she inhaled sharply.
“The time is neigh, Joseph.” And she
clutched my hand.
Why am I here? For you, Mary-mine.
Should I be out running up and down the streets to find someone to help her?
Should I go to the innkeeper again? I doubt he will let us in.
The room was filled with spiritual
radiance and a song. Mary raised her eyes and looked into the light.
Lo, how a Rose e'er blooming from
tender stem hath sprung!
Of Jesse's lineage coming, as men of old have sung.
It came, a floweret bright, amid the cold of winter,
When half spent was the night.”
Of Jesse's lineage coming, as men of old have sung.
It came, a floweret bright, amid the cold of winter,
When half spent was the night.”
© Copyright
2014, Jean W. Yeager
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