Mary

     Mary wiped the last bowl clean, carefully slipped it on the top shelf, gathered her skirts on one arm and hurried out the door and through the courtyard into the dusty streets of Nazareth. A welcome breeze caught her veil and whipped it over her eyes. Her free hand grasped , then loosed it exposing a beautiful and innocent face to the gentle Galilean breezes. She was now on the outskirts of town, her bare feet skipping from stone to stone up the gentle slope over looking the sleepy town of Nazareth.

     A shepherd boy approached followed by a dozen sheep. Mary quickly pulled the dark veil across her face and lowered her eyes as he passed.

     Mary reached the top of the hill and settled down on the cool grass under her favorite tree. All too soon she would be needed at home to help prepare the evening meal. She closed her eyes and thought of the day that she would have her own home. Even now Joseph was gathering the longest and straightest logs to support the roof of their home.

     With thoughts of Joseph, Mary jumped up preparing to return to the village a few minutes early to stop by the carpenter shop. Turning abruptly, Mary found herself face to face with a stranger. She fell to her face for this was not an ordinary person but had the countenance of an angel. Terrified, she waited on her face for him to speak. His touch sent an awesome feeling through her whole body as he lifted her to her feet.

      “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God.” The angel said.

     At first Mary protested in disbelief.

     But the angel stayed and talked of the greatness of this child. “You will give birth to a son and you will call his name Jesus.  He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever; his kingdom will never end.”

     “How can this be,” Mary asked the angel, “since I know no man?”

     The angel answered, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God.”

     At last in humility and tears Mary said, “I am my Lord’s handmaid. Whatever He wants of me, I will do.” And just as suddenly, the angel left her.

     The sun was slipping behind the mountains in the west as Mary made her way back to Nazareth. She could hear her mother’s voice as she hurried through the quiet streets. Breathless, Mary opened her mouth to explain, but stopped short. “How was she going to explain this?”

     “Remember the words of the prophet saying that a savior would be born of a virgin?” she began.

     “That was so long ago.” Said her mother. “We can hardly hope for such today. All these many years and things remain the same. Who knows but what he has already come.”

     “But,”

     “We will talk of this later. Now we must hurry. The laborers are returning from the fields.” Replied her mother, handing Mary the ladle as she turned to check the bread. 

     “This was going to be harder to explain than she thought.” Mary mused. “The angel had also said that her cousin, Elizabeth, was also expecting a child. Perhaps she would go visit her. There would be plenty of time to tell her family and Joseph.”