The Bethlehem Inn & Spa

Last year I went outside at night to see the Christmas Star which was last seen some 800 years ago. As I gazed upon two points of light, a mere half degree apart, I wondered about the people who actually had a room in the inn when Mary went into labor. Years later when they heard the story, I imagined they hastily checked their receipt to see what day they were in town. The husband holds the papyrus aloft as he reads the date aloud while his wife looks on worriedly. 

"December 25th. We're screwed."

"We had reservations!" the wife exclaims.

"It doesn't matter," the husband reasons, "You called down to the front desk. Remember?"

"Well, they were... they... we had reservations!"

The husband repeats his wife's conversation with the clerk.

"Yes, I'm in Room 2. There's some people partying or something in the manger. They're keeping us up."

"Oh yes. A woman just gave birth to our Lord and Savior."

"We'll tell them to hold it down! I can hear that drum like it's in the next room."

"I didn't say it like that! I was concerned for that girl. That's all," the wife explains.

"I complained too," the husband admits.

He looks to the ceiling as he searches his memory.

"It was after you fell asleep. Three kings showed up. I called the front desk and told them that I went outside for a smoke, and a camel spit in my eye."

"What did they say?"

"Something about three wise guys bringing somebody named 'Frank' some incense and myrrh."

"Myrrh?"

"For pain, I think," the husband mansplains.

"Well, she was giving birth you know."

The husband nods.

"I wrote a review," the wife explains.

"You wrote a review?"

"Yes, on Pilgrimage Advisor."

"What did you say?"

The wife rummages around until she unearths her memoirs. She reads,

"Each room has a bowl to wash in, a candle and a slab to write on. You have to bring your own flint and steel to light the candle. The straw was not changed for some time, and there were no towels. They said they had free cable to tie up your cow, but several large caravans showed up and took all of them. They said that there was a bowl of salt on the premises, but I never found it. Continental breakfast consisted of dates, goat's milk and a pheasant egg served when the sundial points to the stick in the ground. The dates were stale and the milk sour. On the plus side, it's close to the public stoning square."

"How many stars did you give?" the husband inquires.

The wife scrutinizes her words.

"One."

"We're going to hell in a hand basket. Literally," the husband declares.

"How were we supposed to know that young girl with that old guy was gonna give birth to God? I mean, if someone had told me, I would've sent down our candle."

"Oh, that would've been just great. Excuse me. Does anyone in this barn need a candle? No, okay. I'll just light it and leave it by this pile of hay," the husband mocks.

"I never wanted to go to Bethlehem in the first place!" the wife declares.

I watched the Star of Bethlehem for just long enough to dream a tale of woe. As another year comes to a close, I recall the past controversies caused by Nativity scenes in public places. The issue has something to do with “the separation of church and state,” but the Constitution doesn't explain why the government is against barns on federal land. I think the real issue is that a lot of people put the Baby Jesus in the cradle before Christmas Day. 

That's just wrong.

Editor's Note: Originally published on December 29, 2021.