Whenever people met her for the first time, the impression was that of a nice, respectful, pretty young lady with a gentle soul. After spending time with her they generally upgraded their perception. She was the kind of woman you wanted to bring home as wife. One you were sure was yours alone.
Now she was pregnant. The last time he checked she was a virgin. Well, not actually checked, asked more like. The baffling part was she had never been seen, not once, in the company of any other man. The reason she gave when he confronted her was incredulous, a more outlandish thing he never heard.
"It was no man, dear. God."
It had seemed funny - in a warped, improbable kind of way. Now, months after, he was so far from laughing the Sphinx had nothing on him. Yet she maintained she'd slept with no one. How could you be pregnant and still a virgin?
He had sombrely ruminated on the matter. He'd reached a conclusion. She would have to go back to her parents. He would do it quietly, no use scandalizing her. But he definitely was not going to claim ownership of a donkey another had been riding.
He was in the shed behind the house - his workshop - putting finishing touches to the dinner-table he'd spent four days more than normal on. He heard his name called from outside, once, twice - he really could do without 'this' - there was plenty on his mind. Again;
“Joseph, son of David," he responded.
"Do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife. The baby in her is of the Ruach HaKodesh. She will give birth to a son, and you will name him Jesus - Adonai saves - He will save His people from their sins.”
He jerked out of the dream, a sheen of sweat pasted to his forehead. He just got his decision overturned.
Six months later he stood in the middle of the street, in the deepening twilight, confused. His very pregnant and very tired wife sat on a motionless, journey-worn ass. Her water had broken many paces back but there was no place they could go in to have the baby. None of the inns and midwifery homes had any vacancy.
A sharp cry from atop the equine cut through his mental haze. You didn't move forward standing still; he took a faltering step. A number of those after, he saw it. A little wooden shack at the end of the street. With renewed purpose, he strode toward it.
This was uncharted waters he was navigating - attempting to deliver a baby. But he had no foreseeable options. Many pants, screams, pushes and racing heartbeats later, a shrill, assertive cry pierced the manger.
The saviour of the world was born. Outside, an incredibly bright star began to shine and an angelic host launched into the opening bars of the first ever noel.
© 2014 John Chidi
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