Christmas Day morning
Markos Christmas visitors adapted from a Serbian folk tale.
There was once an old shepherd. He had lived alone in his little house, high above the village for many years, tending his sheep. One night a storm blew up. Above the noise of the wind and rain, though, the shepherd could hear the sound of crying. Perhaps it was a lamb in trouble? He opened the door, and there on his doorstep was a newborn baby boy, wrapped in a blanket. Who could have left you here? said the shepherd. He couldnt see anyone. Whoever the parents were, and why they hadnt been able to keep the baby, the shepherd never found out. The shepherd had no children of his own, but hed raised plenty of orphaned lambs food and warmth were what mattered. He wrapped the child in lambs wool and fed him on sheeps milk, and the child lived, and thrived, and the shepherd, who loved his adopted son, called him Marko.
But though the shepherd welcomed little Marko, the villagers were not so sure. They didnt trust strangers, and they were suspicious of this child who had arrived in such a mysterious way. It wasnt long before they realised too that this little boy was different in another way, too he was blind. He couldnt see anything at all. In those days people were sometimes cruel to those who were disabled in some way, and instead of helping them to live their lives, they rejected them. Huh! said the villagers to the shepherd, what use will he be? You should never have taken him in! The village children teased him and wouldnt let him play with them. But whenever Marko got upset by their treatment the shepherd would say to him firmly, Theyre only thinking of what you cant do but I see what you can do, and you can do things theyve never dreamed of. It was true, too. While other people saw with their eyes, Marko had learned to use his sense of touch. He could touch your face and feel whether you were happy or sad. He could tell, somehow, whether you were cruel or kind. If the shepherd brought him an injured sheep Marko would run his fingers over it and soon be able to say exactly what was wrong. You can see with your fingers! the shepherd used to tell him.
But life was sometimes sad and difficult for Marko. There was one thing that Marko longed to do more than any other. Every Christmas the people of the village would gather in the little church to put up statues of the Holy Family - Mary, Joseph and the baby Jesus. Children from the village would be chosen to take the statues out of their boxes, where they had been stored during the year, and put them carefully into an alcove in the wall of the church, high up above the peoples heads, where they would stay throughout Christmas, looking down on the congregation. The shepherd had described the figures to Marko Joseph the carpenters strong, rough hands, Marys smile, and the little child, so young and fragile, lying in a manger. Marko liked hearing about them, but more than anything he wished he could feel them for himself, to see them through his own fingers, just like he did the injured sheep, or the face of the shepherd. Eventually one year, he plucked up courage when the time came, to raise his hand Could I help? Could I carry the Holy Family? The villagers were horrified. You! youd drop them, you wouldnt be able to see where you were going with them and anyway, they are ours, and you are an outsider, a stranger, youve no right even to ask now, be gone with you scram back up the mountain where you came from
Marko felt more miserable than he had ever felt in his life. He took to his heels and ran back up the track to the shepherds hut, crying all the way, longing to tell his adopted father what had happened. But the shepherd was nowhere to be found. Marko ran out into the barn, but there was no one there but a few orphaned lambs, brought in to be reared there. He lay in the straw and sobbed why couldnt he be like all the other children? Why couldnt he, just once, hold those holy statues in his arms, touch Mary and Joseph, and feel the face of the infant Jesus.
He was still crying when he heard the tap at the barn door, and the door being pushed open. Excuse me, said a mans voice, I wonder whether you would mind if I and my wife and baby sheltered in your barn for the night. Its getting cold, and we cant find anywhere to stay the people in the village said they had no room.
My adopted father isnt here at the moment, said Marko, but I know he would say yes he took me in, so I know he would welcome you too. Thank you, said the man, then he noticed Markos face, still wet with tears.
Whats the matter?, he asked. As he and his wife began to unpack their things, Marko told them what had happened, how he could see with his fingers as well as others could see with their eyes, and how he longed to hold the Holy Family but wasnt allowed to. Being able to see with your fingers is very clever, they said. Would you like to touch our faces? they asked. Marko reached up. He felt the mans beard and held his rough hands hands that had done hard work. He felt the womans smile. And then she put the baby into his arms.
Marko, would you hold the baby for us, while we get ourselves sorted out? she asked. Marko took the child carefully he was very small. He felt his little nose, round like a button, and his ears, like fragile sea-shells. He felt the roundness of his head against his cheek, and the childs soft lips. By the time the man and the woman had finished unpacking and settled down beside Marko on the barn floor, the baby was fast asleep in Markos arms. You keep hold of him, said the mother, hes happy with you.
Just at that moment, Marko heard voices, and footsteps, coming towards the shed. A great crowd of people he hoped they wouldnt wake the baby, but who could it be? No one usually came here.
The door of the shed was pulled open, and Marko heard a great gasp of surprise. What is it? He asked. No one answered for a long time, but then Marko heard the voice of the shepherd. The villagers came to find me on the hillside,” he said. “They said that my barn was on fire. They could see the light from it all the way from the village. So we came straight away but we never expected to find this.
Find what? asked Marko.
The Holy Family, here with you, Mary and Joseph, and Jesus, asleep in your arms And just at that moment, Marko felt the weight of the child vanish, and heard Mary whisper in his ear, Thank you Marko, for making us welcome never forget that you have held Jesus in your arms.“
The family had gone, as mysteriously as they had arrived, but Marko never forgot that night, the night when he discovered that whoever you are, you can hold the Christ Child. And the villagers never forgot it either, and the lesson they had learned; that God was not their property, someone they could lock up in their church, but that he goes where he wills, and dwells with all who welcome him.
Amen.
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