The Rev Dr Margaret Forrester considers the message of Christmas from the perspective of the innkeeper’s wife.

THE gospels devote up to a third on the last week of Jesus’ life. Mark doesn’t mention the birth. John gives a theological statement. From the puzzling narratives of Matthew and Luke we have built a strange fantasy that we call Christmas.

All the gospels imply that the birth narratives are only important if they point to the cross and resurrection.

We have decorated our nativity with cattle and donkeys, holly and ivy, trees and Yule logs, snow and candles, tinsel and glitter. We have imagined so much, let us imagine one thing more: an innkeeper’s wife, a weary and grumpy innkeeper’s wife.

A MEMORY

I mind that night. My legs may have gone but not my brain. I can remember all right. It was twelve days before the Census. They turned up here without any warning. Joseph was a remote relative so we had to put him up. I’d heard on the grapevine about the scandal. Forty if he was a day, and fell in love with a young girl. No fool like an old fool. Anyway the betrothal took place, then she announced she was in the family way... I’m not one to point the finger. Young blood is hot blood when all’s said and done. But Joseph,... Joseph!

She ran away to visit a cousin so the story goes. It’s my belief she was thinking to put an end to it, but she came back all serene and they were married. Besotted fool he must have been. He could have had it annulled. Why should he bring up someone else’s bairm?

Anyway, it was just days before the census when they turned up here. Every inch of space in the house was taken up, even the front verandah and the back yard. Why should I put myself out? I sent word by the maid Rachel that they could bed down in the lean-to with the animals and count themselves lucky. Then Rachel came back to say that the girl’s waters had broken and she was well on.… that was all I needed. I went out myself to see this trollop that Joseph had married.

We got her as comfortable as we could. I set Joseph to cleaning out the feeding bay and 0filling it with straw and rags. It would take his mind off things.

She’d been on the go most of the day. Plucky little thing, I’ll say that for her. I held her hand and wiped the sweat off her face. We women are sisters, when all’s said and done.

Soon after midnight the baby arrived. We wrapped it in the cloths she had been carrying since Nazareth. It was a nice enough wee thing. But for her and Joseph it was like a miracle. The way she looked at it – talk about worship! And the way Joseph looked at her.

I made her comfy and went back into the kitchen. I sent out half a loaf, a cup of cold water and some wine. The town settled for the night. I was ready for my bed.

But that wasn’t the end. A gang of filthy shepherds – well you know what they’re like – came off the fields while it was still dark, leaving the beasts (what do we pay them for I ask?), and said they wanted to see the baby. So they came and they went. I just pulled the blanket over my head and turned over. I wanted a bit of shut eye before cock crow.

This woman, her man and the child, they asked to stay on for a bit. He got a job as a joiner and was that handy in the house, mending things and such. And she was a good cook and help. The bairn was no bother. I got used to them. Just as I thought things might work out well for us all, a funny thing happened.

Word came that there was a procession coming from Jerusalem. Everyone trooped out to watch. Seven of them there were, uncircumcised foreigners, Parsees from Persia, Magi – couldn’t speak a word of our language. They stopped right outside our door, came off the horses and camels and came in. Their interpreter said they were looking for a prince. That’s a laugh. Then the bairn toddled in and they were on their knees!

They unpacked their bags and gave him presents. Then they were off again. I know about the presents because the next day the whole family up sticks and off down south. Joseph pressed some coins into my hand. “For your trouble,” he said. “You’ve been good to us.”

Gold. Gold. No-one ever gave me gold before. I’ve never had a penny in my hand I hadn’t worked my fingers bare for. I kept one and gave the rest back. “Keep it for the bairn.”

It was lonely after they left, and the neighbours were that nosy. So that was that. And then those Roman demons came looking for blood. I’ll remember those screams for the rest of my life. They searched the house and took away my one gold coin. Thirty years ago it was, but I’ve always had a good memory. Mary was her name. A nice lass. Oh did I not say? It was a boy they had. Jesus they called him. Him there’s all the fuss about this Passover in Jerusalem.