“I’m sorry” I heard the thick accent of the inn owner through the door. “The inn is full and I know this isn’t ideal, but with the animals in there it should be warm. Grab some straw, make a bed, whatever you need. Just, watch for the donkey. She kicks sometimes.”

I blew a huff that vibrated my nostrils, clearing the dust that had gathered from this musty hay he gave us. If I wanted to actually kick someone I would have. Sometimes I get so frustrated. Humans want everything on their terms and immediately. They don’t realize some days are hard. Some days the grief hits and all I want to do is lay down and be done. But I work. I just may not have the best attitude.

The barn door groaned and a sliver of moonlight lit the dark stable. The night sky was more vibrant than usual. It felt like the world was holding its breath, but for what, I wasn’t sure. Everyone around me stopped munching the evening hay, startled like I was at the presence at the door. “Mary, are you ok? Mary I’m so sorry we had to make this journey” a man’s voice said. 

“Yes, Joseph, I’m fine, it’s not your, oooooh” her sentence was cut off with a low drawn-out moan. 

“Mary, what can I do?” 

She leaned over in the doorway, moonlight streaming around her form, hands braced on her knees taking deep slow breaths. We all watched in awe as she lifted her hand to the man, Joseph it seemed his name was. After a few seconds where we all silently stared, entranced by the activity unfolding in our normally mundane evenings, she stood up. Hand on her stretched-out belly, she finally replied, “Just put our donkey away first. Make sure she has food and water. She took such good care of us today on our journey.” A grey nose with long ears peered into the barn before it turned, blowing puffs of warm air onto the lady Mary’s belly. Mary reached up, rubbing the space between the animal’s eyes, gratefulness showing in her features. 

“Joseph!” The lady Mary exclaimed, “He’s coming!”

Joseph rushed over from the stall, grabbing one of Mary’s hands. “Mary, I’m right here. It will be alright. God will care for us, just breathe.” And then he prayed, “Dear God, please take care of Mary and your baby. We are so humbled and honored to be chosen for this. Please help us and guide us. Help us through tonight, and help us as parents.”

The lady Mary’s eyes were squeezed tightly closed, creating creases along her young skin. I could smell the saltiness of her sweat even in the cool evening air. “Oh God, help me” she prayed as her body tensed.

The only sounds in the barn were all of us animals breathing, blinking, as we watched. Occasionally the lady Mary whispered a prayer or moaned.

I had pushed out a foal of my own once. He never opened his eyes to look at me. He never nuzzled me. He was born still, and my heart broke then. Even though he was just a body, as lifeless as a rock, when they came to take him away I pinned my long ears to my head and charged, mouth gaping and ready to chomp. They couldn’t take my baby. The men ducked away from my bite and I spun around, kicking my heels, determined to protect my lifeless foal. The men scrambled and disappeared while I stood over his lifeless body, braying through the morning and into the evening until my voice barely worked. Then I laid down, exhausted, and pressed against my little love. When I woke his body was gone. 

I called to him for days. It hurt so much. And if losing my dear wasn’t enough, my milk came in. I was heavy and full, my body prepared to feed a foal who didn’t need it. It was a constant, aching reminder of my loss. 

The people left me alone to mourn for a week, before looping a halter over my head and putting me back to work. Being busy helped take my mind off it, but the pain never truly left. It just got buried.

The lady Mary’s baby was almost here. I could sense it, and I hoped her story would turn out better than mine. At once the pain from losing my own foal seemed as sharp as the day it happened, yet it was balanced by the excitement and expectation of this new birth. It was as if this coming baby could erase the years of hurt- as if everything would change when he arrived. How can that be, I wondered? 

The lady Mary’s cry pierced the air, interrupted by an exclamation from the man Joseph, “Mary! He’s here!” He laughed as a newborn’s cry filled the barn. “He’s here!” Joseph said, and his laugh became tears. Mary was already crying, her quiet sobs, filling the now bustling barn as Joseph handed her the baby. 

“Joseph,” she nearly whispered, “the Savior is here. All will be well. This baby, he’ll heal our broken world. Oh, God. Thank you.” She pressed the baby against her body as if he alone could save her.

The other donkey touched me with her nose. “See, He’s here! The one the world has waited on. God’s son. It’s going to be ok.”

I watched the new family as they held this tiny king in their arms, and sighed in contentment. All was well. He was here. 

The end, or should we call it

The Beginning

I hope you enjoyed this Christmas short story! It’s my gift to my readers on this beautiful Christmas Day, Dec 25, 2021. A few years ago when reading my kids’ Jesus Storybook Bible, it finally hit me how the world had waited for so long for a savior. I can’t imagine living life without the hope of Jesus in my life. It’s the greatest gift for sure. 

Merry Christmas from the Hickners!