Bethlehem

Extract 18

I'd hoped that once I was married people would slowly accept me again. Especially my Father, my daddy who gave me this pen, who couldn't now bear to look upon me. But instead, as my baby grows, so does the hatred. Its affected Joseph too - there's even talk of getting Abel's son to come back. Some weeks there's barely enough work for us to eat. It's become so bad that I hardly go out - yesterday some boys picked up stones to throw at me and Joseph had to chase them away. Then, today the news arrived that anyone with an income has to register in their home town to make sure they're paying the right taxes to Rome. Given all the rest of our troubles it seems of little consequence. Most men in Nazareth will just go to Levi our tax-gatherer but Joseph will have to go to Bethlehem - his home town. Its 70 miles and the roads aren't always safe, he will be gone at least a week and I will be on my own in a town where some people want me dead.

Extract 19

We argued about it - the first time in 5 months of marriage. In the end I won, I'm going to go with him - we're going to go with him. I know it seems crazy, two weeks of traveling when I am almost due. But being pregnant with God's son is crazy anyway, and God gave me my strong, kind Joseph for a reason - and it wasn't to leave me at the mercy of these people I once knew so well. So, once more I'm packed, this time there are no goodbyes to say, just a quick look round at our first home, then close the door, hoping it will still be here when we get back.

Extract 20

Tonight is the first night that I've been able to write anything. We stopped early because I have a stomach ache - all the walking I guess. Anyway, it means that it is still light enough to write a little. It's been a difficult journey - I'm still sure that it was right to come - I have peace in my heart about it. But it's been hard - tomorrow will be our fourth day, Joseph thinks we should make Bethlehem before dark. He seems nervous - we know news of my 'condition' will have reached his family - we don't know how they will react when we arrive on their doorstep. But even if they are ashamed of us, who could turn away their son and his wife when she so needs a normal bed?

I'll have to stop now my stomach-ache is too uncomfortable for writing like this.

Extract 21

I know this is Mary's diary, but I have to do something. My wife is in labour and no-one will help. My own family shut the door on us. The inn-keeper said he was too busy. I feel so helpless. I'm a carpenter, I know nothing about this. This is a time for family, for sisters, for mothers. So I write and put down more straw and keep the animals away and stop people staring. Have they lost there sense of God? Have they forgotten compassion? We're supposed to treat strangers, foreigners better than this! All they see is what they think is sin, blind to their own wounds, they hurt others.

And every cry Mary makes breaks my heart again.