He leaned against the splintered post, chewing a piece of straw, while surveying the scene before him. He should be tired, but he wasn't; and neither, apparently, was anyone else. The young teenaged boys sat in wide-eyed wonder, even after working all night. It was the strangest thing: They'd wandered in as if drawn there, as if they belonged. And he didn't have the heart to tell them to leave.

He almost laughed out loud at a tiny lamb that tripped over it's own feet, but his gaze caught the shy smile of his young wife and he didn't want her to think he was laughing at her. She'd been through such a difficult time and had handled it with a quiet dignity beyond her years. The rumor mill had run rampant; and many a time he'd wanted to stuff sackcloth in a gossiping old biddy's mouth. But his wife's calm acceptance of it all had taught him some lessons. He'd thought he would be the teacher in this relationship, but he was learning differently. She'd taught him that if he pleased God, he didn't have to please anyone else; and if he didn't please God, it didn't matter who else he pleased.

The young boys were looking at him with concern and he realized there was a whimpering sound coming from the makeshift bed. He glanced at Mary and saw that she was asleep. No need to wake her. He straightened from the post and walked over to the tiny Babe. Not much experience with infants, but this One apparently needed comforting and he was going to learn. Joseph didn't know why he'd been chosen, but he would give all he had to give to do the right thing.

He smiled in wonder as he picked up this Infant, this King, this Jesus.

~LaRue 2005