Joseph’s Mom

   First of all – let me just say, that is just my musing. Please go back to the Bible to read the true and complete account of the birth of Christ.

   Her memory of Joseph, starting with his birth, was filled with many sweet memories of growing up and watching him become a man. The first day that Joseph toddled into his father’s carpentry shop, he tumbled right into a pile of wood shavings and came out filthy and smelling of fragrant wood. But, that was years ago. Now, her boy, her baby, was grown and making his own choices. She thought that that Mary girl was going to be a good wife. But now, with the baby coming, she just didn’t know.
   Joseph had sat them both down, she and her husband, to tell them the news. She remembers her heart leaping into her throat, what? An angel said what? God’s son coming in this way? How does one go about being a grandparent to God’s son? She felt her hopes and dreams of being a grandma of her son’s children, watching them grow and learn, crash. But, God’s son was going to be her grandson… Well, that would show that infernal neighbor woman down the street who was always bragging about her children!
   She chuckled to herself as she thought back over the torrents of thoughts that had streamed into her mind and the moment of realization that had struck. Her son, her baby was being asked to raise God’s son. The realization struck like a knife and pierced through all of the thoughts. Her breath was taken away. How could this be? What would this mean?
   She didn’t know and waited instead with baited breath to hear of the labor of Mary, to hear about the birth of this much thought of baby.

The Innkeeper

   First of all – let me just say, that is just my musing. Please go back to the Bible to read the true and complete account of the birth of Christ.

   A census was called, and the innkeeper started looking around the family business to see that all the supplies and materials were in place. Soon people would be flooding into the town of Bethlehem. The days passed and the crowds converged. The innkeeper could feel his stomach tightening up again, every time he saw the Roman soldiers appear in the street, the fears and frustrations of an occupied nation. But looking on the bright side, business would be good. The customers would be grumbling though, this census would probably be used by Caesar Augustus for the tax registration list.
   The innkeeper continued to check supplies, mentally trying to figure what would be needed and what could be kept in stock. As people trailed into the city, dusty and smelling of their travels, he wandered out and over to the stable. The food trough was set up with adequate supplies for the time being. Moving back to the inn, the gentlemen greeted his guests. They kept coming, returning to their family home. Soon, the entire place was full. People, dust, animals, baggage, the place filled up. The inn was full of people and the innkeeper was now in a place where he had to turn people away. He hated to do that, they looked tired and would wander off looking for someplace else to go.
   A young man came to the door and knocked, looking for a room. The innkeeper felt his heart sink as he looked past the man to the young and very pregnant woman behind him. There were no places let, what could he do. The innkeeper finally offered up the only suggestion he had, the stable.
   The innkeeper walked them out to the manger. He heard about the journey that the couple had made. It wasn’t going to be very comfortable, but the innkeeper tried to do what he could. He made a mental note to send his wife later to check on the young mother to be.
   Later that evening, exhausted from the hustle of the day, the innkeeper finally prepared for rest. Following his last minute evening rituals, he lay his head down and felt sleep drift over. He lay much this way until the middle of the night when a cry pierced the night. That young woman, she must be about ready to deliver the child. The innkeeper woke his wife and she returned to the stable to help as she could. Several hours later, the child was born and a tired, but happy woman returned to tell her husband the good news.

Christmas – Nativity, Round the World Style

I heard something on the radio today that sounded like a neat idea.  A family wanted their children to learn about the birth of Christ, something more than the traditional TV specials and night time reading messages.  To do that, they each explained the story from the perspective of someone inside the story.  I love that concept!  There is such a different understanding inside of a thought than from the outside.  So, with that thought – I think I want to try that as well.  So in the next few days, barring any major puppy stories, that is what I’m going to try and accomplish.

It’s a Good Thing He’s Cute

   It’s been such an adventure the last few days managing a puppy with one person shy what is normal. Yesterday, after having a lunch break in which Buddy had the opportunity to get out of his crate, run around like a little mad man, and eventually had to go back into his pen; he decided that he would share his displeasure. First it was normal puppy rowdiness. Puppies are rowdy, especially labs. They are sweet and cute, but they can be quite mischievous when given the chance. Well, this was mischievousness inspired. The evening went something like this….

   Buddy piddled in the floor three times before we managed to get him out the door. He did more outside (I don’t know where he stores all that liquid). Coming back in, he did the same thing! After a thorough scolding, he sat down and practiced his best pouty put out sorry face. The problem was that he was so darn cute that it took everything I had not to laugh, let alone be upset with him. In the meanwhile, the paper towels were flying, the Woollite doing it’s best imitation of a short squirting fountain. When the flood passes, I find the pup doing an army belly crawl across the chairs at the dining room table. Retrieving the squirmy furry boy, he was placed amidst his toys. He peed on one of these as well. Oh my goodness!!! Out come the paper towels, cleaner, and we head outside again. More scolding heading out, more praise as Buddy does business outside. I take the opportunity while he is paused in a moment of concentration to remind him that it’s a good thing he’s cute. Upon entering the house, Buddy curls up on the couch. Finally, a sweet moment for cuddles and loving on a puppy. But wait, my pants are wet where I have sat. My pants are wet? Buddy!!!!
   There are sometimes that you have to laugh. I know that this is his way of saying, I don’t appreciate being put into my kennel while you are at work. I don’t much care that you have to go to work, you should be at home playing with me! I mean, come on – look how cute I am! So, I laughed, headed to the bathtub as quickly as possible, and reminded the little furry terror once again, “it’s a good thing you’re cute!”

Christmas – Rich in Memory

   I had planned on tackling Christmas decorations this weekend, trying to get as much done as possible; and must say, overall I am pleased with the result. The house looks quite festive, and is gradually becoming the Christmas looking place that we want it to be. My determination to get as much done as possible started flagging about 6 o’clock Sunday evening. I was becoming overwhelmed with memories, like a rich dessert it was something that a small taste of was plenty.

   A white angel is hung on a branch that came from my great grandmother. Little white clay snowmen, made by a cousin, are hung on another set of branches. A cloisonné bell rings a beautiful little tune and sits next to a porcelain nativity and a crocheted angel. So many ornaments as they were pulled from a container as my hand would touch it, the memory would touch me. A family gathering, a gift, someone who is no longer here, music, meals, gifts, trips; memories are rich with sound, color and texture.
   As I hang the ornaments, I find myself thinking about those who are no longer here to celebrate with. I wonder what their Christmas memories were. Were there favorite foods, a special song, or a tradition? I wonder about Mary, what her memories were from that first Christmas, the birthday of her son – of God’s son. Her memories would have been different, those of a mother.