Merry Christmas from all of us at The Creative Muses and to celebrate, here is a special Christmas gift to all our readers from the one and only Mysti Parker. Thanks Mysti for sharing and for allowing us to post your beautiful Holiday story!
The Carpenter's Wife
by Mysti Parker
Her screams jarred the peaceful night. A donkey brayed. From the
rafters overhead, startled doves flew away in a burst of annoyed coos
and wing beats. The young woman was no stranger to childbirth, having
assisted her own mother on many such occasions in their
village. But here they had no one to call upon for help. The thought
occurred to her that she might die, that the stunning proclamation had
been a dream, that their little family was no more important than any
other.
Her husband knelt in front of her, holding her knees apart. He didn’t
flinch at her cries, nor did he look her in the eye. Only a brief crease
in his brow indicated any concern on his part.
She treasured that one gesture, listening to his monotone instructions, straining to hear the slightest hint of his love.
“Push. Good. Now breathe.”
The contraction eased. She allowed her head to fall back on the
rolled-up horse blanket he’d provided when the pains began. The months
had crept along until this night. She thought about the quiet dinners
they shared back home. About all the times when he caught her staring at
him while he focused on his bread and lentils. Their stagnant marriage
teetered on this one event.
She had known all along the doubt remained, but she was so grateful for
this man who had taken her in despite
everything. He worked tirelessly until his hands blistered and bled.
His furniture was highly regarded, yet he never boasted. She admired the
pride he took in his creations, and she loved to watch him work. Wood
surrendered to his skilled touch. Chisels and saws were like an
extension of his limbs. She wanted nothing more than to be the wife he
deserved, yet the desire to pick up a doll or chase her younger siblings
down the dusty streets still pulled at her heart. And, of course,
people still whispered.
Another pain. Then another. Wave after wave. Sweat poured from her
brow. The surroundings blurred with every excruciating squeeze. She felt
the baby leaving the warmth of her womb, coming closer to the chilly
night. Would he be all
right? What if something she did while he was in her womb caused him to
be stillborn or crippled?
“Push! I see the head. It’s almost over.”
His voice was louder, his eyes wider, sparkling with more excitement
than she’d ever seen before. She focused on his face, on the promises of
God, and pushed with all her might.
The child came in a sudden whoosh, leaving her weeping with relief and a
feeling of emptiness. Her husband caught the baby in the softest bit of
cloth he could find, supplied by the innkeeper, perhaps out of guilt
for their lowly accommodations.
“It’s a
boy!”
“Is he all right?”
She
smiled through her tears at the
joy in his voice and his beaming smile. He cut the cord and swaddled
him as gently as if he were his own child. Then, he handed the tiny
infant to her. She took him in her arms, astonished at how insignificant
the boy felt within his wrappings. Red, wrinkly, and bald, he didn’t
look like anyone that could save the world. Yet, as her husband wiped
tears and nestled close to her side for a better look at their son, she
knew that this tiny babe had already resurrected Joseph’s heart. The
rest was up to God.
****
This story was published in the
anthology Christmas Lites.
All proceeds go to the NCADV (National Coalition Against Domestic
Violence). Grab your copy on Amazon Kindle for just $3.99. Also, be sure
to pick up Christmas Lites II and Christmas Lites III. They make great gifts!!!
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