Kelley from "Sincerely, Kelley", a real life friend, retold the Christmas story through different eyes and shared it on her blog. And I just had to share it with you dear reader...
"But Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart."
The weather that night was so insignificant in light of everything else that she promptly forgot whether it was cold, hot, or just right. The things that stood out in her mind were details – the smell of fresh hay mixing with the musty, dirty scent of the animals. The incredible clearness of the night sky. Her husband wrapping his tired and blistered feet after their long journey. The look in his eyes: a mix of fear and the responsibility ahead, disappointment in his inability to provide more than a stable, and awe at what had just taken place. And love. Lots of love.
Even more, the details of her new son. The silky dark hair, the incredibly fine eyelashes and nearly invisible eyebrows. The tiniest of finger and toe nails. The unbelievable softness of his face that she couldn’t stop touching. The warm puffs of new breath on her hand as she memorized his features.
She couldn’t remember any pain or discomfort from her journey or experience – she knew it had happened, because it was forever ingrained in Joseph’s memory due to his fear and doubt. Perhaps it was her joy and relief at the safe delivery of her son, perhaps it was the mighty hand of God, relieving her of memories best put away. What she did remember was how soft the hay felt under her exhausted body, how attentive her young new husband was, bringing blankets and cool water. How she couldn’t stop staring at the tiniest of miracles. Her miracle.
She remembered his hand wrapped around her finger, how peacefully he slept, and how for a minute, he wasn’t the Messiah, he was simply her baby son. She was filled with more joy than ...