Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: ADORE (11/23/23)
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TITLE: On Bended Knee | Previous Challenge Entry
By Jack Taylor
11/29/23 -
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Melodic voices, from within the shelter, drifted through the cracks. “Hark, the Herald Angels Sing, Glory to the New Born King…”
The shortest of the four extended an arm toward a manger scene faintly lit up on the front lawn of the church. “Christmas,” he whispered through chattering teeth.
“Nothing but plastic and wood,” a stooped figure responded. “No one even notices things like that anymore. No one cares about people like us.”
A moment later, an elderly man and woman approached and knelt in the snow at the edge of the cradle. “Thank you for your mercy in bringing us from our war-torn home,” the man said. “We had no hope without you.”
The two struggled to their feet and limped away and were replaced by a young mother and her daughter. They too knelt in the snow. “We miss Papa every day,” the young girl said, “but we know you are taking good care of him, especially at Christmas. Thank you for the gift you gave so we still have hope.”
“Did I hear them right?” the stooped figure said. “Let’s go closer so I can hear better.”
The short figure and his dog huddled in next to the manger, and the other three scrunched in behind, moving a wooden shepherd so they had room under the arched roof of the manger.
It wasn’t long before a man and woman arrived, eyes fixated on the manger. They too knelt. “We miss our Emily,” the man said clearly. “Two years was hardly enough, but we thank you for giving us such a clear picture of love. We treasure what we had. Guard her until we see her again.” The woman reached out as if seeing the dog for the first time. “A live puppy, and real shepherds. How wonderful. Darling, the gift we were going to give on behalf of Emily. Can we give it to them?”
The man nodded, reached into his pocket, and handed over an envelope to the boy. “For your family,” he said, “from ours. We were hoping to have a boy of our own one day.”
Ten minutes later, a small bus pulled up to the curb near the manger. Fifteen children scrambled off the bus and stood in a circle around the nativity scene. “Can we sing here?” one of the lads called to an adult shepherding the lot together. “There’s a real dog sitting with the wooden sheep. And a real boy.”
The lad bent forward, patting the dog, and whispered to the raggedy boy. “Do you really know Jesus?” he asked, kneeling. “I want to ask him for a real mom and dad. None of us have our own. Do you think you could ask him for me? My name is Murphy.”
“Murphy, leave the boy alone,” the adult said. “We’ll sing him a song before we go into the program.” The motley group sang ‘O Little Town of Bethlehem,’ then raced up the stairs and disappeared inside.
“Crazy what these boys will think,” the stooped figure said. “Even I know Jesus isn’t Santa Claus. Imagine thinking that kneeling here will change anything. Let’s go inside and get something to eat after the concert.”
The three pushed through the crowd, but the bony pup wasn’t welcomed, so the boy huddled outside, rubbing his hands, and cuddling his charge. Footsteps sounded, and stopped. It was the couple who had given the gift. “The shepherd boy,” the woman exclaimed. “Oh, how I’d love to take you home.”
“Pardon me, ma’am,” the boy said. “I heard you asking Jesus for a boy of your own. I’m taken, but there’s a boy named Murphy inside who is praying for a mom and dad. If you talk to the orphan master, maybe your prayers could be answered.”
“Could we?” the woman asked the man.
“I don’t see why not,” he answered. “Come boy, bring your dog, and come in with us. No boy should be left alone.”
The usher tipped his hat to the couple and the boy and his dog followed. At the door he turned and knelt, looking to the manger. “Thank you, Jesus, Merry Christmas.”
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