I love to write, as if ya’ll couldn’t tell. I love to write almost anything, but I mostly blog (lucky you!) and write stories (not so lucky you, I’ll never let you read most of them). However, in the spirit of Christmas, I have decided to do a combination of both. I’ll write a couple modern Christmas stories, and I’ll dream a little and wonder what it would have been like, back in Nazareth and Bethlehem, the year Jesus was born, especially for Mary, her friends, and the people she, Joseph, and Jesus met. I’ll try to post one a week, probably over the weekend, until Christmas, and I’ll post the last one on Christmas Eve (it’s already written and typed up, so I’ll just have to click "Publish" and not take away from my time with my family). Anyway, that means there will be four stories total (two Biblical, two modern). I hope you enjoy meeting the characters in my head, and I hope it inspires you to become all you can and worship our Savior Jesus Christ with all you have this Christmas season.
~~~~~~~~~~
Abigail reached behind her and rubbed her sore shoulders delicately. She squinted up at the setting sun and half-smiled. Another long day working in the fields was over, though it had certainly taken its toll.
She tucked a strand of dark-brown hair behind her ear and picked up her full basket. She knew it wasn’t overly heavy, but after a full day, everything felt ten times heavier than it was. She carefully balanced it on her knee to arrange her grip.
"Abby!"
The voice right behind Abigail startled her, and her slight jump caused the basket to fall off her knee and land on the ground. "Mary!" she whined, whirling to face her friend, hands on hips. "Do you know how long it took me to – " She broke off upon seeing Mary’s pale face. "What’s wrong?" she asked quickly, very concerned. Mary had been gone all day. "Are you sick?"
"No," Mary replied, her voice shaking slightly. "But I think I might be."
"What’s going on?"
Mary reached out and grabbed Abigail’s wrist for support. "Abby – I’m pregnant."
Abigail felt her mouth drop open. "Y–you’re what?" She shook off Mary’s wrist and took a step back. "Mary, what did you do?"
"I didn’t do anything!" Mary insisted. "I saw..." Her voice dropped to an awed whisper. "I saw an angel."
"And that means you’re pregnant."
"No! He told me I am. Or will be. I’m not sure if I am right now."
"Oh, I see," Abigail said sarcastically. "Mary, you’re acting crazy. If you go around spreading this story about an angel and a pregnancy, you’re going to ruin your reputation, not to mention Joseph’s. I wouldn’t be surprised if he decided not to marry you, even if it is just a story."
"It’s not a story!" Mary insisted. "I really did see the angel!" She put her hand over her stomach. "I’m going to be the mother of God’s Son."
"So Joseph’s a deity now?"
"Abigail!" Mary blushed, both from the heretical question and the disrespectful mention of her betrothed. "Joseph had nothing to do with this."
Abigail threw up her hands. "Even better!"
"Will you calm down so I can explain?" Mary begged. "I promise, I’m just as confused as you are. But I believe with all my heart that what I’m going to tell you really did happen, so please, as fantastic as it sounds, try to believe me."
Abigail looked past Mary with a frown. "Fine."
"My mother needed me at home today because she’s been feeling sick," Mary began. "And I was sitting there doing the mending when I looked up and there was a man dressed in white, shining so brightly. And he told me not to be afraid, and that I would become pregnant through the Holy Spirit and give birth to God’s Son. God’s Son, Abby! What did I do to deserve such an honor?"
"I think you’ve spent a little too much time around the shepherds, Mary. You’re making about as much sense as a sheep."
"It happened, Abigail, I don’t know why or how, but it did."
"If that’s the best story you can come up with, you’re in for a quick stoning and a quicker divorce," Abigail said, beginning to fear for her friend. "You can’t go around saying you got pregnant and the father is...God. Do you know how horrible that sounds?"
"I know, I know. I could probably come up with a much better story, but it wouldn’t be true, Abby."
Abigail grasped Mary’s shoulders. "I want to help, Mary, I really do. But you have to tell me honestly. Is Joseph the father?"
"No. Joseph’s a good man."
"A Roman soldier? It's been happening all too often these days."
"No, it wasn’t a Roman soldier. There’s no man, Abigail. There just isn’t." Mary broke free and walked around, wringing her hands. "Oh, you’re right, I sound crazy. But nothing bad will happen to me. I can’t be killed. If I were going to be killed, God never would’ve picked me. Jesus would die before He was born."
Abigail wrinkled her brow. "Jesus?"
Mary nodded. "That’s what the angel said to call Him." She continued pacing. "What’s the worst that can happen to me?" she mused rhetorically.
Abigail, ever the practical one, responded, "Your family will disown you. You’ll have nowhere to go. And you’ll lose Joseph."
"If I lose my family, at least I’ll have a child. If they cast me out, I’ll go to Elizabeth. The angel told me she was pregnant, too. She’ll believe me."
Abigail, though confused by this last statement, chose to ignore it. "And Joseph?" She knew how Mary felt about her husband-to-be.
Mary paused mid-step, her eyes downcast. "If I lose him, I lose him. My God is worth more than my husband."
"Then you can tell him that. He’s coming this way."
All color fled Mary’s face. "I can’t," she whispered urgently. "I can’t talk to him, Abby, I can’t!"
"Shhh," Abigail soothed. "I’ll handle this. You just stand there and look pretty."
Mary nodded wildly, all but covering her face with her head covering.
"Joseph!" Abigail called across the field. "What are you doing here?"
"Your mother asked me to check on you," his voice came to her. "Shouldn’t you be home by now?"
"We were having a little chat," Abigail explained, lowering her voice as Joseph came closer. "We were just about to head home."
"I’ll walk with you."
Mary let out a little whimper, and a quick glance at her face revealed huge eyes and bright red cheeks. She couldn’t even fulfill her mission of looking pretty. "No," Abigail said quickly. "It’s much too far out of your way."
"It’s really no – "
"Besides, we hadn’t finished our chat," Abigail interrupted. "Thank you for the offer, though. Good night!" She grabbed Mary’s hand and dragged her away, completely ignoring the spilled contents of her basket which still lay on the ground.
"He’ll hate me," Mary said resignedly.
"No, he won’t," Abigail said, her voice anything but certain.
"I won’t be able to hide it for long," Mary said. "But please, Abby, don’t tell anyone. I want to go and visit Elizabeth before I tell anyone. She’ll have advice for me."
Abigail nodded. "I won’t say a word."
"Thank you." Mary squeezed her hand. "I should go home. My mother will be worried."
"Go." Abigail stood still as Mary broke off and started towards her home. It won’t be a home much longer, Abigail thought. Oh, Lord God. I can’t tell if she’s crazy or blessed. But watch over her. She’s so scared. Abigail felt a chill run through her. And if she’s blessed – oh, God, so are we all!
