The Greatest Story Never Told

The old barn would have to do, though the inn would have been preferred. Damned Romans and their damned censuses. Could not have come at a worse time, Mandy being so far along with child and all. But that was Romans for you. One thing to say for them, they had a knack for intuiting the option that would cause the greatest inconvenience. One thing to say against them, they then chose it.

The barn was a rickety, decrepit structure that creaked and groaned hauntingly in the wind, and appeared so ancient it seemed to outdate the land itself. The moon was new, but a star so bright it might have been mistaken for a moon shone above, illuminating the weathered wood, broken and misshapen in several spots. The barn looked a looming monster under the starlight, a thing of nightmares. But when the inn is full, travellers must take such accommodations as are on offer. He thought Mandy’s belly might have secured them a room. Apparently they were not the first couple carrying to have been turned away that night.

Jonathan set a torch aflame upon entry. Stinking donkeys, cows, and sheep would be their company. And their midwives, If need be. The thought made his heart beat fast and his guts tie into knots. He prepared a bed of straw for his wife as the largest of the sheep, whose coat was a great tangle of unkept, stained wool, baaed in annoyance that his slumber had been disturbed. Beads of sweat trickled down Mandy’s face and her breath came in quick rasps.

When Jonathan first discovered the child he’d been furious, for he knew it was not of his making. But Mandy was insistent she’d lain with no man. So I am supposed to believe it happened by magic? he remembered shouting, with more venom than intended. Yes, she replied. My son is of divine creation. He will be lord of all men.

That was a claim warranting a healthy skepticism if ever there was one. He was sullen in the days that followed, contemplating leaving for good. Even went to the trouble of packing his belongings, as humble as they were. But Mandy’s explanation weighed on him heavy. What If she was truthful? What if the son she bore was a product of the divine? He so desperately wanted it to be true, but how could he know?

On the seventh day, the dream came. A deep heavenly voice spoke, as clear as day, more vivid than any dream had a right to be. Jonathan, your wife carries within her a son who will rule over all men. You must rear him. It is the most important thing you will ever do. When he awoke his doubts were vanished. He had found his purpose; he had been given a divine command.

“It’s happening,” Mandy announced as a pained frown spread across her face and her eyes scrunched. “Tonight, it’s happening. But fear not, once he is born great men will travel from far and wide to bestow gifts upon him, guided by the star above that shines so bright. The same voice who called out to you will pay visit to them. They will know their new king is born.”

The big sheep bleated noisily, and a donkey dropped a heap of dung in the hay adjacent. “Now!” Mandy screamed.

Push and breath was the extent of the wisdom he had on offer. He went to squeeze her hand but she swatted it away angrily, preferring instead to clutch at the straw. “Your hands are needed elsewhere,” she cried.

As the head emerged a great gust of wind howled through the fractured walls, blowing the torch-flame to extinction. A sign, surely, perhaps from the same source as his dream. What the sign was he could work out later, but a sign no doubt. There was no time to traverse the maze of barn animals to relight the torch. He was needed, as Mandy had kept reminding him. It would have to be done in darkness. Damned Romans and their damned censuses, Jonathan mumbled to himself. He reached down towards the opening. Seemed the delivery of a divinely babe was no less messy than the rest.

When the child was safely squalling at Mandy’s breast, Jonathan went about returning light to the old barn, overcome with joy and gratitude. He had been chosen for this noble task, to raise a son of the divine, to raise a son born of purity. Of all the men, he was the one called upon by that heavenly voice. Rich, kingly men would now be on their way to this very barn to bestow their gifts upon the babe and sing his praises.

The torch caught, and light returned. He half-expected the flame to reappear on its own once the child had been delivered, but when he thought on it more it made perfect sense that it had not. The task of rearing had been appointed to him. The flame was blown out so he could be the one to light it. So he could begin guiding his son toward the greatest light of all, the light of the divine that shown above them in the form of a star. A sign. That was his purpose and his honour.

He approached Mandy and looked down over the future king of men. His eyes went wide and he halted in his tracks when he saw.

“It’s… It’s… It’s a girl.”