The Bethlehem Star

The Bethlehem Star
Pg.VII
This is the likely view of that amazing star over our
town that the young carpenter and his new wife
had as they approached us.
don’t get much of that around here, and when we do, it
doesn’t stay for more than a couple of hours.
But this time was different. It started with just a few
flakes. But seems like it was no time before it was snowing
the biggest, and really most beautiful flakes either
of us could ever remember. It was surprisingly
peaceful, and we just watched it falling
so ...gently all around us as we continued.
Neither one of us said a word. We just watched
that snow.
In time, however, we both ended up
getting pretty wet, and Mary started shivering; so
we decided to stop, an hour or two outside of the
Esdraelon Valley just a little south of the road to
Scythopolis. I figured I’d make a fire for us to
warm ourselves. By this time, we had already
fallen behind the caravan, and the snow
prevented us from seeing much of anything up
ahead. We knew they’d stop soon too, though,
and we’d be able to catch up later by their wide
path of footprints.
Our staff artist’s
depiction of one of the
most feared predators in
the Jordan Valley forests
I helped Mary off of Jasper, and found a
sheltered cubby hole beneath a rockface where she
could sit and maybe rest her back against the rock. I
figured the fire would warm the rock face behind her
too, and that would serve to warm her and dry her out
even faster. I tied up Jasper right next to her so he’d
alert us if anything came prowling around.
Then, as I searched nearby for wood, I came
across a line of bear tracks that made me a little
nervous. Once I’d collected enough wood and got the
fire going good and strong, though, I didn't say a word
about the bear to Mary. Instead I made up a hot drink
and pulled out a few pieces of bread and a little bit of
fish, and we sat there beneath that rock and just watched
the snow falling, coating the entire valley now, trees and
grasses and all with what looked like a thick white quilt
of the purest lamb’s wool. It was breathtaking. And we
sat and sipped our drinks and talked about our child.
I’d brought together enough wood to last the
night, so we readied ourselves to sleep right there under
the shelter of the now-warm rock. But, just as we
snuggled up and lied down together, with Mary tucked
in tightly to my chest beneath the two blankets her
mother had given us, we heard a heavy rustle in the
brush not more than a stone’s throw from us.
“What’s that?” Mary whispered to me, a little
fright in her voice.
I had a feeling I knew, so I reached out and
pulled my hunting knife close to me. I’d also set several
torch sticks right next to us, and hoped that one or two
of them, quickly lit and wielded, would stave off any
predators.
“I don’t know,” I said, as I reached for
one of the torch sticks.
“Look!” Mary whispered hurriedly,
“Over there!”
She pointed to a lamb that emerged
from the small patch of woodland in front
of us. It just stared at us, sizing us up
probably, and then it turned and froze in its
tracks.
An enormous brown bear stepped out
of the woods only about thirty paces to our
right, with two tiny shivering cubs
scrambling along close behind her.
Mary gripped my arm real tight. “J-o-se-p-h,
what should we do?”
I wasn’t sure myself.