in answer to the governor’s decree.
Returning to their home town to be taxed.
Travel made them…
irritable.
Taxation made them…
irate.Boisterous.
Belligerent.
Bellicose. Families poured into the
City of David from all directions of the wind.
Swelling the population of the sleepy village,
well beyond its capacity.
Hospitality ruled.
Family and stranger
open home and business to the weary travelers.
Considerate.
Courteous.
Custom.
A stable boy.
Ten-years old.
All too skinny.
Almost skeletal.
A brush with a Roman chariot as a young boy
left him with a shattered leg that never healed properly.
Twisted at an awkward angle.
Weak and wobbly,
each step aided by a walking stick.
The stable boy
dodged through familiar streets.
Picked his way back and forth
from the town’s only inn
to the stable inside the rocky cave,
behind the mud-bricked building.
He spent his day…
Lugging belongings
to the rooms inside.
Leading beasts of burden
to the stalls out back.
Lifting water jars
to fill the troughs.
Laying fresh hay in the mangers
To feed the livestock.
Seen, but unseen.
Speaking, but never heard.
Long after the sun set,
The stable boy blew out a slow breath.
A sigh heavy with fatigue.
He leaned down.
Picked up a wooden bucket,
Turned it over.
Sat wearily upon it.
Pulled his knees to his chest.
Laid his head on his arms
Fell instantly asleep.
His mind registered the sound
long before his eyes blinked open.
The echoing clip clop of a donkey’s hooves
trudging through the rocky street.
A young man walked out of the shadows.
Broad-shouldered.
Brawny.
The flow of his robe could not conceal that he was
powerfully built by years of hard work.
Physical vitality betrayed only by the
exhaustion in his eyes.
The man led his donkey by a loose halter.
Upon the donkey a young woman.
Pregnant.
Pained.
Spent.
Jostling back and forth with each
labored step of her animal.
The couple stopped at the door to the inn.
The man gently braced the woman
as she slid from the donkey’s back.
A kind smile and a quiet word
let her know they reached their destination.
She leaned against the donkey as
he stepped toward the front door.
With a crooked grin,
he placed a heavy hand on the
stable boy’s shoulder as he passed.
Squeezed it in a way that said,
“We made it,”
Walked inside without another word.
The stable boy stared at the woman.
He could not help himself.
Saw how young she was.
Could not imagine the difficulty of her journey.
Knew enough of the world to know…
she was ready to deliver her child.
She greeted the boy with a wave.
“Good evening.”
After the chaos of his day,
her words sounded like the melody of a meadowlark.
Wistful.
Welcoming.
Warm.
Before he could answer,
Her husband came out of the building
followed on his heels by the apologetic innkeeper
They spoke in whispered and urgent tones.
The stable boy listened to the muted conversation,
deliberately kept quiet and low to
avoid alarming the woman.
“Look at her,”
the man pleaded.
“She is due any day. I must find her a place to stay.
We’ve been everywhere else.
I can find no bed for her rest.”
“We have no room,”
said the man in sympathy,
all too aware of his unfulfilled responsibility as host.
The young man looked again at his wife.
Nodded his acceptance of a bad situation.
Shook the innkeeper’s hand.
Stepped toward his wife,
fatigue etched in his face and
his fallen shoulders
All too aware of his unfulfilled responsibility as husband.
“Wait,”
said the innkeeper.
The young man turned back,
a faint glimmer of hope in his eyes.