The Innkeeeper

Yes. Of course I remember that night. How could I forget it? It was such a busy time, what with the census and all. All the inns were full to bursting, mine included. People knocking on the tables for food; for drinks. People knocking on the door for shelter; for a place to sleep. People cursing and swearing and fighting for rooms; for space; even for fun. Yes. Of course I remember. Then this man arrived at the door. I didn't see him or hear him at first but when I did he was so unlike the rest; so calm; so patiently waiting at the open door. I was about to turn him away; give him short shrift but when I looked at him more closely he looked so exhausted; so hopeless. Then I saw behind him a young lady, very pregnant, sitting on a donkey. She had the same expression; exhausted; hopeless. And I knew I had to help. The only place I could offer was the stable. It was smelly; dirty; dark; confined but the look on their faces - so relieved; so grateful made me feel embarrassed; ashamed. I called my wife and we did what we could to clean the place; put down new straw; move the animals to one side; find some bedding. It was so little but again they were so grateful... I slept so soundly that night but early next morning I went in to see how they were and there was this beautiful baby boy lying asleep next to his mother. They smiled at me. They let me hold him and that was such a wonderful moment; such a privilege; and all the thanks I needed. How could I ever forget? C Kathleen Wilks