The Innkeeper’s Wife “No, there’s no room for the likes of you, and yes, I can see your wife. Now get from the door, let the others by, don’t trouble me with your life. Besides the fact, have you no sense to bring her so close to time? Why in God’s name would you have a child, there’s quite enough of your kind! If you must there’s a cave, a place for sheep, outback on the hillside near. Go out there, don’t bother to pay, just don’t let my husband hear.” And so it was that God’s cruel plan to enter our broken estate, was greeted with the best we had and that, almost too late. God’s precious Lamb, spotless and pure, born in a cave out of sight. For no room in the hearts of lost mankind could be found that silent night. Jericho had been kind to the young travelers. An elderly shopkeeper and his wife took pity on the couple as they watered the donkeys in the town square. A good meal and a soft bed was all Mary needed to be fast asleep in a matter of moments. The old shopkeeper took Joseph aside after Mary was settled. “Now Joseph, as you leave Jericho, don’t stop until you reach Jerusalem! It’s a treacherous road filled with robbers all along the way. Try to band together with other pilgrims, and stick to the main road. No shortcuts, Joseph! They’re sure to mean disaster.” Before the sun was up, Joseph had the donkeys ready and loaded. The old couple sent them on their way with dried fish and matzoh cakes. Fortunately, a number of other travelers had also waited till first light making a sizable group with whom the two could travel. The others would spend the Sabbath in Jerusalem, but Joseph knew that Mary’s time had run out. He had to reach Bethlehem by nightfall. The shofar horn, beginning the Sabbath, sounded as the two reached the city gates of Bethlehem. “Joseph, what now?” asked Mary. Her breathing was labored. Her face smeared with the dust of many bone-jarring miles on the back of the donkey. Joseph could sense that the labor pains had begun once again. “We need to find an inn that will keep us, Mary. Let’s try over there.” Making their way past the city gates, they joined the crowds of people who had come to register for Caesar’s tax. Everyone, it seemed, had come to register. From one door to the next, the two asked for lodging. But it was obvious. No one wanted to board the dirty peasants from Galilee. One look at their dress and that was all it took to say no. The last door presented the same story. An old lady, the matron of the inn, greeted them with the same indifference as the others. “Yes, I can see for myself that your wife is about to have a baby, but that doesn’t change the fact that we have no room. Now get along with you!” Tears welled up in Mary’s eyes. The pain, weariness, and loneliness were too much. Her first child would be born on a street corner and not survive the night. Joseph was panicking. "Oh God," he thought, "please don’t abandon us now!" Turning to go, Joseph looked into Mary’s pain-filled face. He didn’t have any more answers to give. “Wait a minute, you two.” The faintest tone of compassion came from the doorway. Joseph turned to face the woman who quickly glanced over her shoulder before she spoke. “There’s some old sheep pens out behind the inn. You’re welcome to stay up there if you want. Go around back, and I’ll show you the trail. Well, do you want it or not?” Before Joseph had time to speak, Mary cried out a response. “No time left. Hurry, please let’s just go.” Joseph lifted Mary from the donkey and placed her on a quickly made bed of straw. The pains were quickening. There was no time left to find a midwife. And so a poor, young carpenter and his child bride cried alone in the night waiting for God to appear.
