Mary’s Nativity: Faith, Fear, and the First Christmas

I grew up in a small town in Nazareth.  My friends and I worked in the fields, goofing off behind our parents’ backs. But life got serious fast.  My father worked hard to provide for our family. I was sixteen, and I had no plans of marriage. But my parents did. There was a young man named Joseph, about nineteen years old.  I was interested, and apparently he was too. He appealed to my parents, and with the ever-growing family, they agreed. I would talk to my best friend, Leah, telling her about all the problems in my life. She held my spirits up.  I don’t know what I’d have done without her.  We were very close. People often thought we were sisters. But then, part of my life changed drastically. The Romans came for taxes. This time, when they came, Leah’s father didn’t have enough. They glanced at Leah and said, “Take the girl!”  They grabbed Leah, dragging her to the horses.  I screamed,  pounding at the guard with my fists.  Leah twisted and screamed. He threw her on the horse like a sack of potatoes and drove part of my heart away. My mother grabbed me, dragging me into the house lest the soldiers take me too. I watched from a peephole in the wall. I saw my father next in line.  He barely had enough, so they took my pet donkey, Dinah. I watched the soldier.  He ordered another soldier to kill it. I sobbed into my rice pillow. My best friend was gone. My donkey was gone. What would they want next? My life had been shattered in ten minutes. Before I knew it, they were gone. They left with Dinah and Leah. They took a part of my heart with them.  

I yawned, not wanting to get up and face my first day without my best friend with me. I rounded the corner with my water jar and almost ran into Joseph. “I found this a couple of miles down the road.” He said.

I gasped. It was Dinah! He also pulled a piece of cloth from behind his back. It was red and blotted with blood. I stared at it. Then my breath caught. It was the tunic Leah had been wearing that day she was taken away. I gasped. My eyes stung. “Thank you, Joseph.” My voice was cold. I could see the disappointment in his eyes. I softened my voice. “I’m sorry. I’m really struggling.” I smiled. “It’s okay,” Joseph whispered. He hugged me and walked away. I walked home with Dinah. When I arrived, the house was bustling with people. I asked my mom why they were here.