As the months progressed, the rosebud that was Mary bloomed into luscious fulsomeness, blushing celebration to her cheeks at the wonderful Secret beneath her heart ...
In late December, as prophesied by the angel Gabriel, the tiny Jesus made known His wants and the mysterious six-pointed Star sent its brilliance over Bethlehem. The Roman Augustus had ordered the death of all children born within this period of time, for he feared the rumors that a Child would be born – a Holy Child from the tribe of David who would rule through the Power of Love ... What this meant he knew not, but he feared for his crown and kingdom; so he ordered a census of all pregnant women to take place. With this precaution and with the help of the gods in stilling the cries of all babies born in a massive, all-inclusive massacre he hoped to rule as Lord over the ever-expanding Roman Empire for many, many years, undisturbed.
The good Joseph filled several goatskins with clear water and with nourishing broth and made huge bundles of swaddling clothes for the Little One and clean sheets and clothing for Mary, not forgetting some dry sticks for warmth, cooking, and cleaning – for he knew, in detail, all that would be required of him in caring for his precious wife and the Holy Infant.
Gently, he placed his dear Mary on the small donkey who walked with delicate footsteps as if she realized her honored role. The world roared its hate of hailstones, lightning, and thunder but the path of the Holy Family remained clear – as if a hand – G–d’s hand – had parted the way for them, a way of Choice for the pagan world to Love and to Understand.
Joseph carried most of the bundles on his back not to tire the old donkey; and stopped at intervals to feed and rest her and to tend to Mary. Three times a day, he communicated directly with his Creator in prayer following the legacy of Father Abraham’s covenant with G–d, defined in all its exquisite clarity during the Mt. Sinai revelation; and all the distance from Nazareth to Bethlehem he recited in ancient Aramaic the Psalms of David, his ancestor, for comfort and strength.
Onward they traveled until – guided by the six-cornered Star of Bethlehem – they reached the humble manger where Mary’s internal tuning-fork had timed the coming event – delicately, painlessly for G–d had given to Mary the Blessing of Eve before the Sinning ...
In the meantime, as if ordered, the little donkey took her place between two sheep, and shared their hay and clover. Swiftly, the Infant Jesus worked His way down the birth canal, spilling the waters of Internal Baptism. Swiftly, Joseph rubbed two sticks together and made a fire to warm some water, laying a sheet of purest white linen on a mound of hay and carrying his precious Treasure to rest thereon.
As three unite in perfect Purpose, the natural Birth of Jesus begins:
Lo! The tiny Head the shoulders the entire perfectly
proportioned Body ...
Swiftly Joseph washes the Child clean, wrapping Him in swaddling clothes and laying Him on a mound of sweet-smelling hay. Swiftly, Joseph attends to His mother, Mary, radiant now with the triumph of accomplishment.
Behold! The Holy Mother stretches her arms to the Newborn Conception of Love ... cradles Him with nourishment and warmth. The eyes of the Child – how wise and gentle, not the clouded eyes of the newborn: dark stars – the doe eyes of His mother!
All compassionate, unblemished in thought and action, this saintly Jewish woman will be known as the Virgin Mary, symbol to millions of purity and innocence ... To millions, her Son will be known as the Son of G–d – Son of Man, filling the world with the confusion of choice: with misinterpretation and lust for revenge; with adoration and true moments of love; with the exploding lava of hate and with nerve-devouring fear ... for few would understand the symbolic meaning of manger where the meek and innocent are housed.