A Mother's Heart

There was a particular chill to the night air, and Mary shivered, feeling the cold to her very bones. She gazed down at the infant snuggled in her arms, and wrapped the cloth tighter around him. He peered up with the trusting and not yet fully inquisitive hazy blue eyes of a new little person.

The night was suddenly warmer.

The baby nestled closer, with little grunts and snorts, diverting his attention to the new-found pleasure of filling his belly. Mary giggled, finding this strange little bundle an amazing combination of amusement and miracles all rolled into one. She marveled at the immense love that overwhelmed her heart in the last few hours since his birth, having never dreamed something so tiny could have such power over her every thought and emotion.

Mary ran a slender finger across the soft brown down of his head, and then along his full cheeks that worked furiously. He stopped for a moment, and opened one eye, startled, but then calmed to her touch.

Staring up into the sky, she watched a star flickering, reminding her of a promise made long ago. Her heart grew suddenly heavy. His father had plans for the child, and it wouldn't be long until there would no longer be special, quiet times such as this, where it was just the two of them.

She drew him closer. A tear slipped to her cheek. She'd only held the babe a few short hours, and yet it seemed she had always known him -- always loved him. How could she ever let him go, knowing what lay in store?

Mary swallowed the cry that nearly found it's way to her lips, and wiped the tears from her eyes. The baby found a silky lock of her hair and brought it to his face. She began to rock, comforting him from sorrows he was not yet aware of. A quiet song found it's way to her voice, her own sorrow in its melody.

There would come a time when she would have to let him go. But how could she, knowing the dangers that lay in wait for him? Wasn't it her duty, as his mother, to protect him from harm?

Mary felt his little body move against her with each peaceful breath he took. Her heart pounded with love, with fear. She wanted to run. She wished to scream out her protests -- refuse to allow this child, her child, to endure the future already set for him.

But she could not hide. His father would find him, no matter where she ran. He was everywhere, saw all things. And He had a purpose for this child.

As she recalled the words of the prophets, foretelling the end of the life she had only just brought into this world, her heart broke. Her own people would play a part in crucifying the innocent child who now lay in her arms, but not before forcing him to endure unthinkable agony and despair -- not before ridiculing him and calling him a liar. They would take her baby and hang him upon a cross of shame.

Her weeping wracked her weary body, and the babe turned his little head as if to study the woman whose tears fell on his tiny hands.

And in that moment, when their eyes met, an understanding passed silently between them, mother and child.

Mary choked back another sob, and brushed the tears from her cheeks. He knew somehow, even now. And he would not only accept his fate, but cherish it and believe himself blessed to suffer it.

She resumed her gentle rocking, and the song rose in her voice again, but not so sorrowful as before. His eyelids became heavy, and little by little they closed, until he was lost to serene slumber.

Mary looked over to her sleeping husband, who lay in the straw next to the manger, and then back to the star that glistened in the night. Her son would have far greater protection than she could ever give him, for his father would give him the strength and understanding of his purpose.

She leaned back against the wooden wall of the stable, drawing Jesus closer to her heart.

When the time came, she would teach him in the way of his father. And later, she would be strong for him and stand beside him.

But for now she would just cradle him close and love him with all her heart. (www.pondokbaca.com)