Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: Purple (11/05/09)
TITLE: Treasures of the Heart
By Clyde Blakely
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Joseph slowly picks up his newborn son.
“Joseph, be careful! Make sure you support his head!” His callused hands are so gentle, radiating the love in his eyes.
“Joseph, your tears are dropping on him.” My eyes are misting too. “Honey, it’s okay.” I wish our parents could see this.
Moving behind her husband she tries to wrap her arms around his broad shoulders. Beholding the most beautiful baby in the world, the moment sinks deep into their hearts.
“Joseph, look at where your tears have fallen.” The flickering light from the lamp causes a shimmering reflection off the strips of purple cloth their son is wrapped in.
“Mary, they look like sparkling jewels.” Eyes meeting again, both remember their encounters with angels before their marriage.
A warmth moves into the cool barn momentarily awaking Mary’s awareness of where they are, “Joseph, I am so glad we are not in that crowded, noisy inn. All the coughing going on in there it is not the place for a newborn baby.”
“I’m glad too. Perhaps the innkeeper knew that also. He placed fresh hay in the manger and his wife brought us this tasteful kosher meal. She wanted to stay to help yet had so many duties inside.” Looking up to heaven, “Father of the universe, bring a blessing on the innkeepers I pray.”
Beholding the tiny bundle in his arms, “How am I supposed to teach you to talk when you spoke creation into existence? Am I, a lowly carpenter, to instruct you in building things? And I’m supposed to teach the Lord of the Sabbath to pray?” Looking heavenward, hoping for an answer.
A small voice answers, “Carry him in your arms, let him ride on your shoulders, let him abide under your strength for awhile and he will return the same many times over.”
A whimper breaks the silence. “I think he’s hungry.”
Sitting on the side of the manger, Mary senses that her arms were made for this very moment, cradling her first born son. She cherishes the motherhood moment, its special warmth and closeness flooding her whole being. Kissing her tiny child she lets out a slight gasp.
“Honey? Is something wrong?”
“Joseph, I just kissed the face of God!”
His eyes moisten, “Let him abide under your strength for awhile and he will return the same many times over.”
Joseph kneels in front of them, Lord of heaven and earth, you make all things good. Marvelous are your ways.
As Mary wraps her baby, she softly runs her hands over his coverings. “Joseph, I just realized that each of us come from the lineage of King David? We both have purple woven into our garments. This child I delivered is here to deliver us. You, me, and all mankind. He is the King of kings.”
Joseph lowers his head into Mary’s lap remembering one reason he loves her so: she smoothes the edges of his life, her love for God shines through all she does, “Immanuel, God with us.”
Joseph starts to hum a psalm, as Mary begins to sing young men rush into the barn.
Breathless and wide eyed, “Is this where the Messiah has been born?”
They move closer, eyes fixed on the bundle in Mary’s lap.
One looks up, first to Mary, then to Joseph, and answers, “Do you believe in angels?”
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