Numero Tres

Story #3...this is the unedited version, so I think that there are a couple of typos and awkward sentences...ignore those, please. Basically, this is the story of Jesus's birth from the perspective of the innkeeper.

The Story of the Innkeeper

The old innkeeper was tired. It had been a long, busy day – a long busy month, really. When he'd heard a few months back that there was going to be a census taken, he had been excited. He knew that this meant that there would be people traveling from out of town to Bethlehem to be registered, and most of these people would need a place to stay. The more people who stayed with him, the more money he would make. With that kind of increased business, he could take care of his family for the next several years! He had excitedly begun to prepare the house for his guests, and had looked forward to the start of the busy season.

And a busy season it had been! But to be honest, most of the excitement had faded away. For the last month he hadn't had an empty room in his inn. There had been people packed in each small room, and almost more mouths to feed that he had time to cook for. People were cramped, tired, and frustrated that they were traveling all this way to be taxed by Cesar. It was true that the money had been good, but his old body was in enough pain now, that money was the last thing on his mind. His wife and children were exhausted too, and he had begun to count down the days to when all of this craziness would be over. On top of taking care of a packed house full of people, it had become a part of his regular routine to let people knocking on his door know that there was no more room in the inn. Every day he turned away dozens. At first it was apologetically,

"I'm sorry. We are completely out of room. You might try down the road a little bit."

Soon, though, he began to get frustrated with the number of people knocking on his door, and his compassion had dwindled. He would simply fling open the door, say "no room!" and fling the door shut again. He didn’t have time to worry about being nice when he had so many mouths to feed and people to clean up after.

Today had been just like every other day in the past month. He had gotten up before the sun, worked hard all day. He had cooked. He had cleaned. He had open and shut his front door fifteen times turning people away. Now it was nighttime, and while most of the people in his house were sound asleep, he and his wife were still finishing up the day's chores. She walked up beside him, still holding the broom in her hand, and laid her head on his shoulder.

"What were we thinking?" she asked with a tired smile. "We should have just been farmers or shepherds or something."

"Well, animals are probably easier to take care of than people, that's for sure," he replied tucking his arm around her waist. "Why don't we go to bed? The floor's just going to get dirty again tomorrow and I think that we could both use some sleep."

His wife agreed, and they turned to head toward their bedroom. Just as he was about to blow out the last candle, he heard yet another knock on his front door. He groaned and said,

"I'm not answering it. They'll get the hint that there's no room if nobody answers."

"But dear," his wife protested, "don't you think that you should at least tell them about the place a couple of miles down the road that has been putting people up?"

His wife had this way of getting her husband to do anything she wanted just by looking at him a certain way, so he knew that it was pointless to argue with her. He quickly crossed the room to the front door, intent on dismissing whoever was on the other side right away, so that he could go to bed.

When he opened the door, he found a tall man standing on the other side. The man quickly spoke before the innkeeper had a chance to tell him to go,

"Please, sir. Do you have anywhere that we might be able to sleep for the night? My wife is not feeling well, and she really needs to rest."

The innkeeper looked past the tall man to see a young woman standing a few feet behind her husband with their few possessions. She was small in stature, but she was also very pregnant, and she appeared to be in pain.

"I'm sorry," he said with more sincerity that he had used all day, "I would like to help you but I just don't have any room. You might try the house a few miles down the road, but to be honest, they're probably full too."

The tall man turned away slowly, looking defeated. Just as the innkeeper was closing the door, he heard the man's young wife cry out it pain. His wife had had six children, and he knew the sound of a woman's labor pains. He was filled with compassion for the girl, and he quickly pulled the door open again.

"Wait!" he yelled to the couple.

They turned hopefully toward him as he walked in their direction.

"I don't have much to offer you. I don't have a room. I don't have a bed. I don't have midwife or even a blanket. But you can sleep in my barn. There is fresh hay, and it's warmer than sleeping outside."

The relief on the man's face was almost as apparent as the pain on the face of his wife. The innkeeper led them to the barn, and helped the young girl settle onto the ground. She was perspiring and grimacing in pain, and he knew that it wouldn't be too long before she was holding a baby in her arms. He turned to go back to the house to get his tired wife. She had been through this herself, and maybe she could offer the girl some help. He knew that she was exhausted, but also that she would want to do whatever she could to help this young mother.

A few hours later, his wife walked back into the house with tears streaming down her face. She was smiling, and said,

"You have to come and see the baby!"

As he followed her outside, he could swear that he heard singing, and there seemed to be some kind of bright light in the distance. He decided that he was just imagining things because he was so tired, and hurried to catch up with his wife. They walked into the barn and he saw the young lady holding a tiny child in her arms. She had wrapped him in old stable rags, and was holding him close. She looked up at the innkeeper with tears glistening in her eyes, and said softly,

"Thank you, sir. Your kindness means more than you will ever know." As she leaned over to him and placed the tiny baby in his arms, she whispered, "His name is Jesus."

The innkeeper was surprised at first, but as he looked down at the face of the baby boy, an overwhelming peace filled his heart. He looked up to meet the eyes of his wife, and could tell that she was experiencing the same peace. And then he knew. He wasn't sure how he knew, but he did. This child was more than just the son of a traveling couple. He was more than just a baby born in a barn. He was more than an interruption or an annoyance at the end of a long day. This child was different. He was special. This tiny baby boy who had been born in the most inconvenient place and the most inconvenient time was going to change the world.