The Stable

My take on a Christmas story.

The man who opened the door was of a rotund and portly stature.  His face was round and fatted from plentiful meals.  His shiny cheeks and bulbous nose were bruised purple by broken veins caused by copious wine consumption.  He stared at the couple at his door, a look of irritation engraving a deep frown upon his face. 

'What is it?' his annoyance at being disturbed, apparent in his voice. 

The sound of raucous noise and the waft of stale wine from within the tavern, came rushing into the cold air.

'Good evening sir,' said the other man with a slight bow of his head.  'We have travelled a long way and my wife is full with child, we wondered if we could take a room for the night.'  The Innkeeper looked beyond the stranger and considered the woman.  She stood with one hand on her large belly and the other holding the reins of the donkey next to her.  He looked back at the other man.

'I have no rooms.  Don't you know it is the census?  Every house in town is bursting at the seams.'  The innkeeper looked at the man's wife again.  'You should have made better arrangements considering the condition of your wife.  It looks as if she is ready to birth her child at any moment.'

'We take our instruction from the messengers of God, sir.  We do not come here for our own ends.  Is there no where we could rest tonight?' 

The innkeeper looked into the face of the woman.  She smiled at him softly, her hand gently stroking around her pregnant protrusion.  Her complexion was pale, almost translucent and the hint of a glowing light that shone from her face presented an angelic countenance.  The innkeeper felt a heaviness lift from within his body and his frown melted.  He felt a softening and a warmth in his heart and a lightness tingled in his soul.  He swallowed the morsel of food that had been running around his mouth and cleared his throat.

'Well, as it happens, I have some room in my stables around the back but it will cost you one denarius for the night.'  Joseph balked at this ridiculous price.  It was a full day's wage for a Roman soldier.  The innkeeper held up his hands indicating to Joseph there was no room for negotiation.  'You are welcome to stay there for the night if you find it to your liking.  Though you will have to share your bed with an ox and an a*s and a few other creatures.  I am afraid it is all I can offer you.'  The woman looked upon him with such kindness in her face that the innkeeper's eyes widened in what the other man could only describe as awe.

'Thank you for your kindness, sir,' said the woman, the softness of her voice like the gentle whisperings of a mother placating a worried child.  She looked at her husband and he nodded.  'We will of course accept your offer.' 

'Very well.  Please, follow me.'  The innkeeper stepped over the threshold into the cool evening and closed the door behind him.  He walked with small hobbling steps and the couple followed him around to the back of the tavern.  It was almost pitch black here, a weak yellow glow from the kitchen window the only illumination.  Dirty grey clouds covered the night sky preventing the luminance of starlight bathing the earth.

The stable was large.  The aroma of animals was strong and the music and voices from the inn disturbed the still air. 

'Well, here is your room,' said the innkeeper.  'I hope you have a restful night, though with the town being so full, I doubt you will get much peace.'  With that, the innkeeper scuttled out of sight, stumbling through the rowdy throngs of townsfolk.

The couple entered the stable and the man tied the donkey to a post in one corner.  In another corner stood the ox and a*s.  Two sheep grazed from a grass bale and a camel lay with its legs beneath it against the back wall.  The right-hand wall was free from animals and had a thick carpet of hay next to an old empty trough.

'We will rest over there, Joseph,' said the woman, indicating the hay. 

'I am sorry, Mary.  This is hardly the place I envisioned for you or for the birth place of a king.'  The stable was positioned right on the back street and there was a constant flow of people walking by, many of them drunk and rowdy.

'This is our Lord's will, Joseph.  We will be fine.  God and all his angels protect us.'  Mary went over to the hay and Joseph helped her down onto the floor.  Joseph took some bread from the bags that lay across the donkey's back and went over to Mary.  He sat next to her, broke some bread and offered it to her.

'No, thank you.  I am not hungry.'  She lifted her face and looked towards the dark sky.  'The time is close, Joseph.   Can you feel it?'  Mary looked deeply into the eyes of her husband and smiled.  Joseph's heart raced.  Her unique smile always stirred within him the deep love he had for her, creating an effervescent fervour of emotion that bubbled through every pore of his being.  'My very soul feels fresh and alive with-in me!  We are the most blessed people that God has ever created.  We are to be part of the new beginning.  There has never been a more important part of the history of God's people as this night!'  Mary looked to the skies once more.  Some of the clouds were beginning to clear and a few stars glinted and twinkled.  'Oh Lord, I praise your greatness and thank you for your immeasurable love for us!'  Mary stared intently into the heavens, her hands clasped tightly together.  Her smile turned to a grin and large tears flowed freely from her sparkling eyes.  The animals stirred gently, their hooves scratching lightly in the dirt and their eyes wide and wary.

'Even the animals feel it, Joseph.  Oh what a wonderful life God has granted us.'  Mary's hand jumped to her belly and she winced.

'What is it, Mary?  Is it time?'

'Yes,' she smiled through clenched teeth.  'Our time is near.'  She lay back in the hay and Joseph stroked her brow.  In the street drunks shouted and laughed, their ale fuelled profanities scraped the night air with coarse irreverence.

'Oh, this is both such an ironic and appropriate place the Lord has chosen for us, Joseph,' winced Mary.  'That the most holy of occasions will take place in such a debase location feels fitting of God's will for his people.  Tonight we witness the fulfilment of a prophecy and the establishment of an enduring precedence.  The scriptures will be satisfied and our saviour will begin His life how it will continue - amongst the most lowly.'  Mary still smiled, the light in her soul a constant buoyancy for her spirit.  'Our son will lift up all those that are fallen and give comfort to all those that are suffering.  Oh, Joseph. I have never been happier!'

Joseph smiled down at his wife, caressing her face with deep love and devotion. 

 ‘Just concentrate on bringing our son into this world for now.  There will be time for celebration later.’  Joseph stuffed more hay under his wife’s head.  He looked around the stable for something to screen his wife from the bustle of the street.  He got up, went to their donkey and brought it around to the front so that it blocked the entrance.  It wasn’t perfect and didn’t give much privacy but it was all he could do.  Even though the night was getting late, the street was still heavy with people.  Joseph returned to his wife and knelt by her head.  He smoothed back her hair and used the sleeve of his robe to wipe away her perspiration.  Although the night was becoming cold, the mechanisms of birth that quickened Mary’s metabolism bathed her in a thin sheet of sweat.  She breathed quickly through gritted teeth and groaned along with every quickening contraction.

As the minutes turned into hours and the contractions followed in quick succession culminating into one mass of pain, Mary felt the overwhelming need to push with all her might.  The scream that she let out into the night forced the attention of passers-by to stare into the stable.  Some just walked quickly past, others gave a cursory glance but those of a more inebriated disposition showed little restraint in conveying their vulgarity.

Mary was in no good state of mind to even acknowledge the world around her and Joseph was too attentive with his wife to be affected by the offensiveness from those in the street.

Mary became silent and breathed gently once more.  Joseph wiped her face and looked down at her.  She smiled back at him, her face bright and alive.  She let out a gasping laugh and pulled at Joseph’s arm.

‘Joseph, our son is born!  Quickly, pass him to me.’

Joseph started as if from a trance and scurried on his knees to where a bloody and glistening mound of bulging flesh lay in the dirt.  He scooped the baby up and placed him upon Mary’s chest.  He took his knife from his pocket and sliced cleanly through the cord.   The baby took its first deep breath and then screamed its new voice in a piercing cry.  Once the cord was safely secured, Joseph sat back and allowed the baby Mary’s full attention. 

Mary’s adoration of her son procured upon her face an even more divine smile than Joseph thought possible.  Perspiration still glistened upon her face and pieces of hay stuck in her hair and upon her arms.  Her clothing had become dirty and lay dishevelled and crumpled around her.  Those passing in the street that looked upon this new family would be forgiven for thinking them mere street beggars.

‘Jesus,’ she whispered, as she held his face against hers.  She wiped the mess from the baby with the sleeves of her clothes and kissed his little face innumerable times, all the while smiling and crying at once.  This was both a happy and frightening time.  Mary’s heart, though bursting with maternal love was also gripped in a tortuous vice at thoughts of the unknown future that awaited her son.  Though she knew of God’s will and the prophecies of the scriptures, she had but a vague understanding of their meanings.

Once her baby was as clean as she could manage, she turned to Joseph.  ‘Pass me the swaddling cloth, Joseph and I will ready our child for the scrutiny of the world.’

Joseph went to the donkey and returned with the cloth.  He handed it to Mary, who, though exhausted, set about wrapping the child tight and snug, as was the custom.  The act of swaddling a baby stipulated the child be first washed in water, and then wiped with crushed salt before being wrapped in the cloth.  This was a ritual performed by a midwife that indicated the child had a legitimate and known father.  Without being sprinkled with salt the child was designated without father and was a disgrace to the mother and her family.  Joseph was not the child’s natural father and to follow the custom as required would be a falsehood.  However, for an easier integration into society, in all outward appearance Jesus would be the son of Joseph.  Besides, the baby did have a known and legitimate father but the understanding of the world would not yet allow such thoughts to pass lightly.

When Mary had completed the task, Jesus resembled a mummified child; only his face was exposed to the cold night.

Mary managed to sit up and she held the baby close to her breast where he took his first food.  The child’s face was now clean and had a complexion of translucent marble that shone with a delicate glow.  Joseph looked upon his son and felt the love of a true father.  As he watched the baby contentedly suckling for milk, Joseph noticed the child’s face grow brighter - from the subtle aura of the moon to the bright light of the sun.  Joseph and Mary gasped and wondered at the meaning of this apparent miracle.  Then Joseph noticed the light set out as a beam that led through a tear in the stable awning up into the sky.  And as he followed its path it ended at a large fiery star that lit the night sky around it as blue as day.

‘God marks his son,’ smiled Mary as she looked upon the heavenly glow.  ‘Oh, my heart aches for a world that is in such need for the cleansing love of our Lord.  Our son will have many trials to endure, the thoughts of which wrench my heart in agony.’

Joseph went to his wife and rested her against his chest.  As they rested amongst the squalor and the noise, there were already others who had seen God’s proclamations of a saviour.