Father and Son

_{An original short story for Christmas}

Mary watches her husband and son working and reflects upon his birth.

Who will the boy become?

Sunlight filled the courtyard and lit up the faces of those working below. I sat on the roof intending to sew, but as usual, I was watching those I loved.

“That’s it, careful now,” my husband, Yossef, instructed our oldest son. “Hold the plane at the correct angle to shave off a small amount. Better to take it slow than ruin it.”

With a look of concentration, my son completed his work and then ran his hand over the wooden bench to check for smoothness. He blew the sawdust away as he had seen his father do hundreds of times. He smiled and stood back for his work to be checked. Yossef bent down to examine that the bench was level and ran his hands carefully over the smooth wood.

He nodded. “Perfect, Son. That’s an excellent job and now it’s ready to be delivered.”

“Thank you, Abba.” He said. “Can I come with you when you deliver it?”

He slapped my son on the back. “Of course, Yeshua. I want to say who made it. I’m proud of how quickly you pick things up.”

They are so alike, my husband and son, and we both marvel at how this could be. I watched them chatting away and remembered the things deep in my heart. One day I will tell of these things, but for now, they are locked up securely where I keep them safe. Sometimes Yossef and I whisper about them in the dark, and we talk about Yeshua and wonder what will happen to him. I turned my head to the sunlight and let the memories flood in.

It was a day very much like today thirteen years ago, and I was sewing on the roof of my family home. The sun was going down and as it would soon be too dark to sew, and I bent down to put my things away. A bright light appeared, brighter than the noonday sun, and I had to shield my eyes from its brilliance. Out of the light, a man walked forward. I say a man, but it was a messenger from God, an angel, to be more precise.

“Hello, Mary,” he said, and I was too shocked to reply. “Don’t be afraid, Mary. God is with you. God sees everything you do, and he is very pleased with you. You are chosen to receive a special and wonderful gift from him. You will become pregnant and you will give birth to a baby boy who you will call Yeshua. He will be the King of Israel and his reign will have no end.”

Oh, I was shocked by what he said as I was unmarried and asked how it would happen. He told me that God would fall on me and the child will be holy and will be called the son of God. This was all good except for the part when I told my parents. They thought I’d done something terrible and lied about the angel. But I hadn’t, and they knew it. Worst of all, I thought Yossef would think badly of me. We were engaged and due to be married, so my pregnancy was bad news to him. He later told me he was wondering how to break off the engagement when he had a dream and the same angel visited him.

The angel told Yossef not to worry about marrying me because my pregnancy was from God. We would have a son and he would be the saviour, which is the meaning of his name, Yeshua. That morning there was a loud knock on my door, and my mother shouted for me to come down. Yossef was standing in the doorway panting, as he had run from his house to tell me we were still to be married. I was so happy that God had not let me down, and that Yossef loved me and still wanted to marry me. He loves Yeshua, as much as he does our other children, and he is such a good father to them all.

“Ima! Ima!” It was Yeshua shouting for me, and I peered over the wall of the roof to see his excited face looking up at me. “Ima, come down. I have something for you.”

Every day, he is a little taller, and I marvel at how quickly he grows. Today he is my height, and he hugged me tight.

“Look Ima,” he opened his fist to show me five coins, which he dropped into my hand. “These are for you. The customer paid me extra because the bench is so good, and Abba said I can start on the table the day after the Sabbath.”

When Yeshua was eight days old, we took him to the temple to dedicate his life to God. We met two prophets, an elderly man and a woman, who told us again that the baby was from God. The man told me that a sword would pierce my soul and it would be very painful. I know that one day my heart will break, but for now, and for each day that comes along, I will marvel at my little boy. We don’t know what the future holds for us, but we know God has it in hand. In the meantime, we will look after our son and teach him all we are supposed to. One day he will become not only a man but the saviour for each one of us.