who gives birth in a Manger?!

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction I have put together to commemorate the birth of Christ as Christmas draws near. This article is purely born out of fiction. Hope you enjoy it.

'Hurry Rancher! We'll be late for the passover if you delay'.

That was sister Phoebe. We were already on our way to the cathedral when I felt the urge to ease my bowels. She suggested we rushed there so I'd get to use the restroom but I quibbled about how I'd get my clothes soiled before getting to the building.

At home, I was supposed to be out of the bathroom by now but there was a problem

'Rancher!'

I heard her squeal as her footsteps drew closer up the staircase. I'd be in serious trouble if sister Phoebe finds out I'd damaged the liquid dispenser switch.

'I'm here!'

I hurried out of the bathroom as I murmured out the words. She was just getting to the last slide of the stairs. She looked me over as if to ascertain I hadn't done something else asides easing my bowels.

'did you use water?'

'of course!'

I must look like a criminal at the moment but she needn't find out the damage done yet.

'let's head back to church. We'll be late remember?'

I raised a finger pointing at the door, trying so hard not to give anything away with my voice. She gave one last look at the bathroom door and turned to descend the stairs. I followed her with quiet strides.

'We should get candles from Catherine on our way back from the cathedral'

When I didn't get a response from her, I raised my head to see what fascinated her.

'sister Phoebe...'

'shhhh...!'

She covered my mouth and we crept stealthily towards the direction of the faint flame.

There were three men clad in white. They weren't dressed like the town's people so it was obvious they were visitors. They turned at the intersection separating the residential area from the market, where they were headed, I couldn't tell but sister Phoebe seemed occupied with focusing on them over the evening program we should be in church for.

'Rancher'

'yes'

'can you see what I see?'

'I can see'

'maybe they are spies'

'what would that mean?'

'shhhh. We need to follow them and figure out why they are here'

No! This wasn't part of the plan. Wednesday evenings were meant for the passover and that was it.

'sister Phoebe, we can't...!'

'shhhh. We're almost getting to them. They shouldn't know we're following them'

She gently lifted her palms off my mouth. I surrendered and trudged behind her in defeat.

They were heading towards Easton? They didn't come for us afterall.

'see, they're leaving. We should...'

'one more word from you and I'd peg your lips!'

She interjected with a frown.

We followed these three odd men until we got to the outskirts of our town. We'd trekked a long way but they didn't seem like they'll be resting anytime soon. A closer look at them made me observe they were old men, the frailty on their faces wasn't obvious in their strides.

With Easton behind us, it turned out we were getting closer to the entrance of Bethlehem. The noise from the people had gone ahead of them to give us a warm welcome.

Bethlehem was always in a frenzy. People were hurrying into and out of the town gate and it was very easy for the three men clad in white to mix up with the people moving into the town. We joined the throng and struggled to keep up with the chaos. They soon turned to a lone path and we followed wearily behind. By now, sister Phoebe appeared tired herself.

We saw a dim lit cottage in the distance and sister Phoebe nudged me in its direction as it seemed like where they were headed. In front of the cottage, they put out their fire lamp, kept the stick on the paved floor in front of the cottage then turned aside and walked briskly to the back.

We stood and watched them from a distance. We walked to the front of the cottage when they turned to the side and edged closer in their direction from there.

We could see their footsteps under the bright light of the moon and we trailed it to find them.

'look!'

I cried out in awe as I saw a large pig snorting above its trough.

The three men were somewhere close to the pig. They weren't alone this time, there was a young man and woman who stood beside them. They took turns to present something to the young woman and bent a little as if to examine something beside her. As the third man left her front to stand beside his colleagues, my eyes caught the cute little baby wrapped in swaddling clothes

'who gives birth in a Manger?!'