Mary's Story

I was young back then, no experience of the world.  There was an old joke at the time that nothing good comes from Nazareth. That’s where we lived.  Occasionally we’d go to Sepphoris, just a few miles away - Herod had made it his capital – but we mostly stayed in the village.

I really didn’t understand what was going on. Cousin Betty .. she was a lot older than me, more like an auntie.  We got on well but didn’t see much of each other because she lived some distance away.  We thought she couldn’t have children, and now she was too old; but then out of the blue we get a message to say she’s pregnant!  But that was just the start of it.

Mum & Dad had introduced me to this really dishy guy.  He worked with wood.  A marriage was being arranged and so we were busy making preparations for the wedding.

One night Mum & Dad went down the road to see some friends, so I was left on my own...and there was a knock at the door.  I opened it quite gingerly but standing there was a well-dressed bloke who could easily have come from the palace.

I’d never seen him before, but from what he said he seemed to know all about me.  To start with I thought he must be a friend of Dad’s but then I got really frightened. He said I was going to have a baby.  Well, I just flipped. I mean I was a good Jewish girl, about to get married. I knew I couldn’t be pregnant but he insisted.  But don’t get me wrong, he didn’t touch me, in fact he was kind and gentle…said it was ‘God’s will’ and something about the Holy Spirit  ... oh! And that I should call him Jesus, the baby that is.  And then he said that when he grows up he’ll have a kingdom.

(sarcastically) A kingdom – we’re from Nazareth.

I thought he must be mad, but then he said Cousin Betty was going to have a baby too.

I didn’t tell Mum at first. I was too scared.  If she’d thought I was going to have a baby she’d have thrown me out on the street.  Eventually I plucked up courage.  I don’t know if Mum ever told Dad, but I was packed off to see Cousin Betty – to lend a hand there, and no doubt to learn about labour and babies.  When I told her all about it she was so excited that her baby gave her a right old kick, but she didn’t seem to mind.  I got excited too, but went back home when her baby came.

I was beginning to show a bit by now.  I couldn’t hide it from Joe, my fiancé.  But he was really good about it.  I thought he’d be angry but he said he loved me and that he didn’t care whose the baby was as long as I’d marry him. 

By now that wretched census was on and because I was engaged to Joe we had to go all the way to Bethlehem.  I was almost due. The journey took days, well it was 80 miles away; I think I felt every bump on that road and when we got there everywhere was crowded. 

It was awful.  Joe’s family didn’t live there any more so there was no one to meet us and nowhere to stay.  I told Joe he should have booked, but he said it would be OK…men!

It was getting cold, I was tired and hungry.  We traipsed around for bed and breakfast and knocked on...I don’t know how many doors.  Then we stopped at a pub for something to eat and Joe got talking to the landlord.  He could see the state I was in. I think his wife persuaded him to clean out the barn – it was the only place there was…. But it was nice..peaceful… private.  So we spent the night amongst the straw and as soon as I lay down I fell asleep.

The suddenly I woke up.  Joe! Joe! I shouted.  “What is it?” he said “go back to sleep.” 

“The baby, it’s coming,” I said.

I was frightened.  I didn’t know anyone, certainly not a midwife.  I wanted Mum.  Joe got up and banged on the pub door.  He must have woken all the guests.  But by the time he’d got back it had happened.  I was in tears of emotion.  I held this vulnerable, tiny little boy in my arms.  We were miles from home, no friends nearby and my son’s first experience was of an animals’ house.

We had no crib, but there was a manger in the corner of the barn, so Joe put some fresh straw in it and we laid Jesus there.  I looked into his eyes, they were so bright, it was almost as if he was saying, “thank you for bringing me into the world.”

I wanted to get some sleep,  but no chance.  Four or five blokes turned up to see what was going on.  “Nosy beggars!” I thought at first, and then I realised what was happening, once they’d told us what had happened to them.

I felt proud, but so inadequate. ”Why me?” I thought. 

I knew then that life would never be the same again … not for me … not for anyone. 

Has it made any difference to you?