Mary's Christmas Story Part 1

Mary’s Christmas Story Part 1

  Copyright 2011 Kathleen Bosman

  Chapter 1

  Mary’s heart bubbled with joy. She was going to the market day with a bundle of denari in her hand; enough to buy a large sack of ground wheat meal, a jar of olive oil, two small bags of raisins, a wineskin of wine and possibly even some fresh fruit and vegetables, if the prices were good. Her brother would find her later to help her carry the purchases back to their home.

  Her family had suffered a couple of very lean years and God had blessed her elder brother yesterday with so much; he had enough to share with them. She walked along the road that had been flattened by the Roman chariots and foot soldiers and many commuters, choosing not to dwell on the fact that Father still hadn’t found work. She’d had a happy childhood although her people couldn’t govern their own country. There were often uprisings against the Roman rule and there were moments of fear when a new ruler came into power. No-one knew if he would be a cruel or wicked one. She was glad that she’d grown up in the quiet town of Nazareth, away from most of the political activity. She whispered a prayer of thanks to God for giving her such a precious family. As she thought of her Mamma and Abba, tenderness rose within her. She was the middle child of three. The eldest, Ethan, was now married and his wife was expecting her first child. Her younger sister, Abigail, an athletic, determined, child, made her proud. Abigail was a hard worker, although a tad impatient and bossy at times. She smiled as she remembered how Abigail had given her the list of what to purchase, stressing over and over again to get the Damascus raisins and not the Sidon ones. She knew that they were chewier, but the Sidon ones were often cheaper. She would give Abigail what she wished this time because God had blessed them.

  As she came closer to the centre of Nazareth, people walked past her, greeting her politely, some even smiling back, probably because she couldn’t hide her excitement. A couple walked past her, the lady heavily pregnant, and Mary’s eyes were fixed on her swollen belly. She wondered what it felt like to have a baby inside of her own body. Was it uncomfortable? She thought that any discomfort would be far outweighed by the thought of giving birth to a child and loving that person into maturity. What a privilege.

  “Will you grant me that gift, one day, Jehovah?” she whispered to God.

  Her mother often used to chide her for talking so much to God. “You’re not a priest or prophet, Mary. You don’t have the privilege to talk to God as a friend. God needs to be feared.”

  “But Mamma, King David spoke to God all the time.”

  “How can you, a poor, simple virgin girl, compare yourself to the great King David?”

  Mary looked down and sighed. “I cannot.”

  For several days, she stopped talking to God, but then it would bubble out instinctively again. She couldn’t stop. The God of Israel that she had heard about in synagogue and when her Abba read the Torah, was a good, holy God. She longed to know Him. Maybe if she prayed to Him, He would reveal Himself to her.

  She looked up at the palm trees lining the road and the warm sun that shone on her head and a deep longing welled up within her. She knew that this God was true. She knew that He had something special to show her, but what was it? Why was she so hungry for more? Who was she anyway, to think so much about God? As her mother always said, she was a woman. The woman’s job was to keep her future husband happy, watch over the household and bear children, not to ponder deep truths of the law. A tiny stain of melancholy dropped onto her joyful heart. When was Father going to find her a suitable husband? The thought of marrying made her terribly frightened, but she also didn’t want to become so old that no-one wanted her anymore. Her cousin Elizabeth had thought that she would never marry because she was over thirty when her father found her Zechariah. Because Zechariah was an older man himself, he was willing to marry Elizabeth. She’d had a stroke of luck. What if Mary never had that luck?

  She followed the couple into the market and then watched them disappear towards the cloth section. They must be choosing cloths to make baby clothes and sheets. Would it ever be her turn? Then she saw the lady who sold the olive oil, her face covered with perspiration and the whole world’s troubles written on her frown.

  Mary walked up to her and smiled. “How are you, Madam Sarah?”

  “It is a bad day for me today, Mary.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I cannot trouble a young woman with this old woman’s woes on such a lovely day. I can see that you are especially happy today.”

  “You will trouble me more if you keep a secret from a friend.”

  “The recent rains have rotted the beams of wood in our roof. Zidda has no strength in his bones to climb on a ladder to put in new wood. Besides, where do I get the money to pay for this wood?”

  “Have you not sold enough olive oil this month?”

  “There is a new couple selling on the other side of the market. They have oil from the coastal regions, and everyone prefers the taste. My sales have dropped more than half.”

  “Oh, dear!” Mary wondered if God had blessed them so that they may also be a blessing to another. “I will come back now.”

  She would find the carpenter’s family and ask how much the roof beams would cost. Maybe she could pay for it and still have enough for her list. Or maybe they would help Sarah if they heard her situation. Old Zidda couldn’t afford to be wet at night. He was very sickly nowadays and had suffered enough the last year. She walked to the eastern end of the market and found the carpenter’s stall. Jacob often let one of his sons keep his stalls for him. She hadn’t seen them in years because, thankfully, they hadn’t needed anything. The stall had moved and at first she couldn’t find it and then she spotted the vast array of wooden furniture and planks of various woods in the corner. They had chosen a good spot where there was lots of traffic going past. She spotted one of the sons who was looking very tall behind the table. Nervously, she walked up to him.

  “Son of Jacob, how are you today?” Her voice was shaky, but she tried to sound polite. Her father had taught her that manners were the most important thing.

  “Is that Mary, the sister of Ethan? You are no longer a child.”

  “You seem to have grown quite tall too.” She looked at him, embarrassed that she couldn’t remember his name.

  He smiled at her, obviously realizing her predicament. “It’s Joseph. What can I offer you today?”

  “I was wondering how much your roof beams are.”

  “Well, it all depends on the length that you need.”

  “It’s not for me.” She sighed, not too sure how to make it not sound like a charity drive. “I’ve been speaking to Sarah. Zidda cannot fix their broken roof, and they haven’t had any sales. There is a new olive oil stall that’s taking all their customers.”

  Joseph looked very serious and Mary thought maybe she should disappear at that moment. She’d obviously offended him. They probably wouldn’t have enough to spare anyway? She’d heard that many were struggling to keep things going.

  “I will have to speak to my father, but I’m sure we can help.”

  “I will help too.” She handed him a denari.

  “No, your father will not approve. Give me a day. I will speak to him tonight.”

  She saw compassion in his eyes. “Thank you.”

  She walked away, and as she reached the end of the line, turned round to look back at him. He was staring right at her. How had he become so attractive? Was it just because he was tall and muscular or was it his kindness? She’d never taken an interest in any man before and the feeling was quite foreign. It felt like a mixture of nerves a
nd excitement together. The rest of the day, she shopped in a strange state of mind. She shouldn’t be thinking of a man so much. It just wasn’t right. She waited for her brother at the grain store, her mind a confusion of thoughts. It wasn’t her brother that patted her gently on the shoulder about half an hour later. Instead she stared into Joseph’s dark brown eyes and felt her heart jump.

  “You startled me.”

  “I’m sorry, Mary. I have seen my father. He has met with Zidda, and I will fix their roof tomorrow for them.”

  “Oh, that’s wonderful! Thank you so much.”

  “Thank you for caring about them, Mary. Did you get everything you need today?”

  She nodded happily at him.

  “May I help you carry your purchases home?”

  “Ethan promised to fetch me before the sun starts lowering. I shouldn’t leave as he may worry.”

  “Well, then. A safe journey.”

  “Thank you.”

  An hour later, Mary almost wished she had accepted Joseph’s invitation. The marketers were packing up their tables and the clouds had made the sky very dark. She knew it could only be about five in the evening, but she began to feel irritated. Had Ethan forgotten her? The walk was about an hour long and she wanted to get back before six so she could help with the supper duties. She sighed and shifted her feet