It was midmorning. After attending to our
late night guests, I spent the rest of the night tossing and turning on my mat.
My mind was still trying to figure out why that poor couple seemed so familiar.
Tabitha had given Joel, Lucas, and me permission to miss school today. Koa and
she expected business to be heavy today in the Inn of Chimham. Our help would
be needed.
Amazingly, with the small amount of sleep
I had gotten, I completed my chores quite efficiently. The gentle Bethlehem
breeze dried the wet earth and blew through the tall pine trees and the bright
red poppies in the front yard. For some reason, each limb of my body was
rejuvenated. I felt like a new man.
At
various times in the morning, I checked in on the man and his wife. The woman
slept. Her husband told me that she was nauseated during the night and vomited
several times. Both the man and the woman tried to rest after this morning's
big breakfast in the inn. Protectively, the man sat in the fresh straw with his
wife's head on his lap.
He carefully leaned up against the stall
post and went to sleep himself amidst the clucking of chickens. I quietly left
this place like a church mouse. My insides felt warm and good. I'd made a
positive difference in two people's lives. I continued with my chores.
Several minutes later I heard a horrifying
scream that seemed to echo all across the little town. I scurried into the cave, and there I found
the couple huddled together in a corner.
The man sat there trying to comfort and protect his frantic wife by
stroking the sweat-soaked ringlets of her hair with his brawny hands. It was
all he knew to do.
I wanted to cry. I'd never seen a stranger
in this much agony before. The lady squeezed her husband's arm with all the
strength her tortured body could muster up.
The pain caused the woman to almost rip her veil in two with her teeth.
All this poor defenseless man could do was sit there, and cradle her in his
arms like a battered lamb. His command
was law to me in her hour of need.
"Daniel, run quickly and fetch your
mother. My wife is about to have her child."
Darting out of the dark cave into the bright
sunlight, I heard the man's prayer drift towards Heaven. "Father, please
be with my wife. I can't stand to see her in so much pain."
As I saw Tabitha scurrying from the hotel
with her birthing instruments, the sound of male weeping echoed in my ears.
The
kind woman in the stable had gone into labor. It scared me because she was in
so much pain. "God, please let this baby be born healthy," I silently
prayed.
Tabitha knew what to do. I assumed other incidents like this had
happened at the inn. The man and I
nervously traded small talk outside the cave.
He told me his carpentry business in Nazareth was thriving. If all worked out well, he hoped to have his
own house built soon. The couple lived
with his parents. For the umpteenth time today, I rambled on about synagogue
school. It was the only thing I could
think to talk about.
Doves fluttered in the hushed skyline. I heard
the cry of a newborn baby. A smile
spread across the tan face of the stranger. He was escorted in by Tabitha to
greet a new child and a pale, sweaty wife. I waited outside for further
instructions from Tabitha. Hopefully,
I'd get a chance to see the new baby. My Aunt Janine told me nothing on the
earth could compare to the unbridled joy of a newborn.
Tabitha walked out looking as happy and content as a
little girl that was given a huge all-consuming hug by her father.
"Another healthy man child has been born into this world. Son, go to the
stable, and help those good people with anything they may need."
I
gladly obeyed and walked into the stable.
There they sat in the straw. The man smiled at his wife. The woman sat
next to him wrapped in a warm blanket. The strong man gently rocked the fragile
newborn in his arms. She looked on, and appeared to be at peace with her part
of the world the way as it was at this moment.
"This is beautiful. Somebody should
print this scene on a Christmas card," I thought. Suddenly, the light
clicked on in my brain. By now, I was freaking out big time. "God, this
has to be a weird dream. I want to wake up. This can't be happening," I
thought.
I pinched
myself, and it hurt like the dickens. This was the real thing. This was full
color reality, Bethlehem-style. My legs
gave out, and I plopped to the floor like a bowl of gooey melted ice cream.
All the clues to my existence here fit
together snuggly like pieces in a giant jigsaw puzzle. The writing in Koa's
hotel ledger this morning said, "10 Teveth 3756 [April 10, 5 BC], lodging
in the stable and free food for couple from Nazareth.” Koa's voice on that phone in Oaksdale told me
I'd reached the Inn of Chimham in Bethlehem. A baby was born in a stable. That
telephone booth brought me here. My mind
could not comprehend what my common sense wouldn't admit. Plain and simple: this was Mary, Joseph, and
the Baby Jesus, God’s Son.
The Inn of Chimham was where they sought
lodging, and I helped to place them in a stable. I always thought the innkeeper and his family
must have been cruel and heartless to put a pregnant woman in a stable. Yet it
was my suggestion whispered in the ear of Koa that put the Son of God in with
barn animals. How could I not see who these people were and where I was sooner?
I felt like crying, bowing at the feet this family and asking for forgiveness.
If I had only known who was in my presence, I would have done things given them
the nicest room in the Inn of Chimham, and convinced Koa to throw those
customers out.
Looking around this familiar place,
everything took on a new meaning. Bits
of scripture and Christmas carols flooded my mind as I gazed on a miracle come
true. Over in the corner was a rough, rock feeding trough used for the cattle.
I'd taken it for granted.
"Away in a manger, no crib for a bed the
little Lord Jesus lay down his sweet head." The white strips of cloth
wrapped tightly around this Baby must be the "swaddling clothes"
mentioned in Luke 2:7 of the Bible. Then I stood and asked the burning question
that I could hold back no longer.
"May I hold the Baby?" The
fresh-smelling, wiggling, bundle of Joy was placed in my trembling arms. I
couldn't believe that I was holding the Son of God. That was why Joseph had
referred to this child as “her child.” Joseph was just a proud step-dad. He had
that same sparkle of happiness in his eyes I'd seen in the face of my father
when I was a precocious child. Just one more question, and then I would be
silent. I knew the answer, but I had to
hear it firsthand from Mary's lips. "What is the Child's name?"
"The Child's name is Jesus. An angel
from the Heavens told me we should call Him this." I smiled at the Child,
and looked deeply into his peaceful grayish-blue eyes. Stroking His creamy skin and auburn hair
(with highlights of gold and copper), I held His tiny fingers in mine. This was a miracle Baby. Millions of people in far-away lands and
different periods of history would experience the healing and love that this
Child could alone bring to their lives. Jesus would make a positive difference
in the lives of many people if they would only let Him.
Glancing at the far end of the cave, I
noticed that two rough wooden beams had created the shadow of a cross. I held
God's only Son close to my bosom and wept bitterly inside. It didn't seem right
that admission to Heaven had to be purchased at such a high price. I shouldn't
question God. He knew what He was doing. Jesus would someday receive the
punishment (from His Father) that I deserved.
How
could Mary and Joseph ever understand the sorrow and turmoil that was rumbling
inside me? They couldn't. All four of us were from another time and another
place. Why should Christ's life begin like this, in the stench of filthy barn
animals? No other king would be welcomed
into the world in such an unfriendly manner.
Why should this Boy be any different?
Worse yet, in my time some people only know Jesus Christ as a cuss word
or as a last ditch effort when they got into trouble.
Few
seemed to truly care. During His short lifetime on this earth, this little Boy
would suffer much physical and verbal abuse at the hands of his own people, the
Jews. Others would misunderstand His
ministry, or try to twist His words into saying things He never intended.
The Jews would ridicule Him, spit on Him,
and even try to stone Him. At the end of His life awaited a Danny cross and a
tomb. I knew that three days later He would arise out of a cold tomb,
victorious over sin and death. That
could keep me happy and give me hope to go on. If I didn't leave this place
soon, I was going to weep out loud. Seeing this family made me miss mine. If
Dad (Char, which is short for Charlton) were alive today, I'm sure he would be
a great deal like Joseph: loving and thoughtful of others. I often wondered why
I hadn't shown and told Dad that I loved him more while he was still alive.
Those three -dozen red roses that Mom and
I put on his casket at the funeral just couldn't express what my heart wanted
to tell him frequently. In Oaksdale, I tried to regularly show my Mom both in
words and deeds how much I loved her. Death didn’t give second chances to
demonstrate true devotion.
Handing the Child back to His mother, I
reached inside my leather pouch to see if I had anything to give this Child.
Nothing came out except the Star of David brooch I'd planned to give Lyna. The couple was spellbound. This was probably
the most beautiful thing they'd ever seen in their lives. It seemed so cheap to
place a fake gold and diamond pin on someone so important. Once I securely
fastened it onto the Baby’s clothes, it sparkled and glimmered like it was
worth a million dollars. Funny, this pin never looked that dazzling in the
showcase at Krisman's.
This family's destiny was in my hands. I
could mess up their future by telling it to them verbatim. How would they react
to the wonders of the twentieth century? They'd both probably have heart
attacks if they could fathom what I would tell them. A hint would be all right.
Wouldn't it? That's not like telling
them about the future? It's just warning
them about it.
By
now Daniel was almost on the verge of a mental breakdown. Why wouldn't he shut
up? I knew what Danny Philman was supposed to do. My mom didn't raise a fool!
The Daniel ben Koa inside my head spoke with great frustration.
"Stop, this family is servants of Lucifer. The nativity scene . . . airplanes . . . the
Bible . . . Christmas trees . . .
microwave. Explain please. What is an airplane?
What is a m-i-c-r-o-w-a-v-e?"
He stuttered. "I do not understand. My head hurts."
"If you just calm down, I'll explain it
to you later." I finally gave them my hints. "Beware of kings and rulers." They
obediently nodded. Somehow, I wished
that someone would tell him that King Herod wished to kill Jesus. "Someday your Son will be a source
of strength and inspiration to all people in many lands." Mary softly
hugged me, and smiled.
"Daniel, do you think my Baby's
pretty?" Mary asked.
I looked down at the Child, and answered,
"He's the most handsome Boy I've ever seen."
Her face beamed with a brilliant smile. My
truthful answer had pleased her.
Why
would I want to tell her about all the evil that would befall her Son during
their lifetime? Let her save the good
times in her heart for when she'd need to remember them.
I looked at Jesus and told Him I loved
Him. His wide, trustful eyes penetrated to the very depths of my soul as if to
say, "Danny, I love you too."
It
was amazing that Jesus Christ knew who Daniel really was inside, Danny Philman.
Danny was an imperfect guy who messed up his life on a daily basis. Jesus loved
me unconditionally in spite of that.
Walking out of the stable, I hoped I'd be
here for the events that would come to pass in the next few days and weeks. The
shepherds with their sheep would adore the Christ Child in this place as I had.
Their arrival couldn't be far away. Two years in the future, in a home
somewhere in Bethlehem, Gaspar, Melchior, and Balthasar, magi (or wise men, not
wise guys) from Parthia near ancient Babylon would follow a bright eastern star
to worship their King with gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.
In the distance, I could hear an angelic
heavenly choir singing above the bleating of sheep and human voices.
“Melech,
keep those sheep in line, and get that lamb out of their garden!"
"Abijah, that cave over there must be the
place the angels told us of."
"Little Ohad, where's the gift you were
to bring? We must bring our best to the
Savior of Israel."
"Correction" I thought. "Jesus is not only Savior of Israel, but
of the world."
I
hated leaving this place. Such moments of peace didn't happen much in my life,
but my chores weren't finished yet. It was also time for my weekly bath. (I
take more baths in Oaksdale.) I smelled like a sweaty, fat pig. Bathing in
Bethlehem didn't mean running water and a bathtub. There were no bathtubs
around here. The only running water was the stuff I ran to the well to get with
a bucket. Sponge bathing was used to
clean the body.
Whatever
part of your body smelled after that was splashed with oil or perfume, which
completely masked the odor. The nearest river (the Kidron River) existed
fifteen miles away from here near Jerusalem. Nobody in his right mind would
travel that far to take a thorough bath.
A total of five days had passed, and I was
still in Bethlehem. Would that time
machine ever come back and take me home to Oaksdale? The day after Jesus was
born a vacant room became available in the inn. Joseph and his family stayed on
at the inn for a couple more days while Joseph looked for a home and work in
our town. They'd decided to live in Bethlehem for a while until Jesus was old
enough to travel. I'd really miss the family after they left for their new
home.
Tabitha
quickly learned the art of basket weaving from Mary. In return, Mary learned
the proper way to run a profitable inn and take care of a newborn baby. Koa
even learned a few new furniture-making techniques from his new best male
friend, Joseph. Of course, the twins and I adored the Baby Jesus. God's Son was such a happy content baby. He
was a real joy to be with (unlike babies I'd known in the past).
Finally,
on the fifth day of my stay in Bethlehem, the time my new family dreaded came
to pass. Joseph found carpentry work and a small home on the north side of the
town. Tabitha told me the location wasn't that far away, and we'd be sure to
visit a lot to help Mary with the new baby. (Koa and Joseph had even planned a
fishing trip for sometime in the near future.) Daniel finally realized he'd
been wrong about this nice home folk.
They weren't the demons he'd thought them to be earlier.
We
all waved goodbye as this new family and their donkey disappeared down the
dusty road to their new home. Later that afternoon, my bladder started to
emphasize how much I needed to empty it, or I’d be very sorry. I made a beeline to the outhouse. I’d used
these facilities many times this week. It was not my favorite place to visit,
mostly because of the putrid smell and the many flies.
The
pink outhouse was some distance away from the pink Inn of Chimham. This was a
blessing in disguise. Having the outhouse too close to the inn would not have
helped business at all. The outhouse’s shape reminded me of something right out
of that prairie TV show based on the books by Laura Ingalls Wilder. The small
wooden shack had a door with a rope handle, a square window in the back that
was covered with some kind of filmy cloth that allowed in light during the day
and ventilation.
Inside
the outhouse was a tiny table with a basin of clothes soaking in some kind of
smelly brown water. Those were used for wiping your underside. How nasty. I
didn’t even want to think about the germs, or I’d be sick. Tabitha had the
gross chore of washing these nightly, and placing them on a nearby rock to dry.
I’d watched her. In the middle of the shack was a stool with a whole in the
seat of it. Underneath that hole was one in the ground, which was a toilet.
Once that hole was full, it was filled with dirt. The outhouse was moved to
another location. Daniel told me this was why there were freshly filled-in holes
all over this area in back of the Inn.
I
stepped in the outhouse holding my breath against the horrid smell I expected
to assault my nose. I wanted to do my business and get out of there. To my
surprise I was inside of the telephone/time travel booth contraption with its
telephone, lights, and eerie black interior. Daniel informed me his family and
inn patrons would be celebrating their Sabbath (church service) or Shabbat
tonight at sunset. He said this had been the most interesting week of his life getting
to know me. I was finally going home. I really would miss all of my new
friends.
Somehow,
I got to Bethlehem by dialing my phone number. Then without thinking, I tried
reaching into my leather purse for a non-existent quarter. Plan A wasn't going
to work. Hmm, plan B would involve making a collect call through the operator.
Let's
try that. I dialed the "O-Operator" slot with my pinky. The operator
finally answered.
"Hello, this is Bernice, operator
626. How may I help you?"
"Operator,
I'd like to make a collect call to (617) 264-5974. My name is Danny
Philman."
"Thank
you. You're call is going through."
"Hello." It was Mom's voice once
again. It seemed like it had been centuries since I'd heard her. I guess it had
been.
"Collect
call from Danny Philman, will you accept?"
"Yes,
operator."
"Thank
you."
"Danny, is something wrong? It's only
been one hour since you left the house. Where are you calling? Didn’t you take your
smart phone?"
Wow,
a five day vacation in only one hour.
"Fantastic."
I thought.
This time travel stuff is great. It takes you
to more interesting places than any airline ever could.
"Mom, I'm in Bethlehem, and I've just
seen Jesus."
"Danny, either I'm hearing you
incorrectly, or we have a bad connection. Did you say something about seeing
Jesus?"
"Yes, I saw …"
The
old, familiar rumbling and shaking began inside the booth. The telephone receiver slipped out of my
hands. I rolled to a corner of the machine, and immediately assumed a fetal
position. Once again, I passed out.
Someone
was violently shaking me. In the hazy distance, I heard a loud female voice.
"Danny,
this is Lyna. Can you hear me? Wake up. Are you ok?"
Seconds
later, a painful slap on my right cheek brought me back to reality. My eyes
bolted open, and I rubbed the sting on my face.
As I rubbed my sore face with my right hand,
my left hand brushed by the pocket of my pants.
Something was inside the pocket and poking me. Inside the pocket of my
pants was a pouch of coins. Where did that come from? I hadn't purchased Lyna
any coins.
Lyna told me I kept mumbling the word, “Jesus”
frequently while I was passed out on the mall floor. What did Jesus have to do
with a bag of coins? Maybe Lyna could help me sort it out over a pizza?
Something bizarre had just occurred in my life.
My body felt it, and I wanted to remember it.[i]
I hope you have enjoyed reading Unconditionally Yours (as much as I did
writing it many years ago). Is this the
conclusion of Danny Philman’s adventures?
[i] All installments of Unconditionally Yours adapted from All for One: The Towns of Ohio Completer Trilogy by Robert
Kinker, Book Three, Part One: ”Accept Me
As I Am”
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