The middle of the night and they pound on my door!
There’s no room here, not even the floor!
All right! Hold on! I’m on the way!
Speak up, young man. What is it you say?
You want a room tonight?
You must be kidding! There’s no room at all.
All I have left is a small manger stall.
There’s no room in town, the census, you know.
People are searching high and low
for a place to sleep tonight.
So, go around back, open the shed
and there you can make a hay and straw bed.
I know it’s not much. It’s the best I can do.
Get settled in. I’ll bring you some stew
to hold you until dawn.
When dawn arrived, a cry was heard,
far from the sound of a common word.
The babe that Mary held that day
had so much more to do and say
for the blessing of the world.
They all went home in a day or two.
Shepherds and flocks and wise men, too.
You might assume that the story ends,
but you’d be wrong. It just begins.
It really just begins.
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