Read: Luke 1:39-56
Dear Journal,
My childhood friend, Joseph, came by this morning. Even though we live only a couple of streets apart here in Nazareth, I hardly ever see him anymore. Not really. He mostly stays in his family’s workshop, and I have my animals to look after.
I remember one time in school sitting next to Joseph. We must have been six or seven. He memorized the Shema faster than everyone else. The teacher honored him for it, but Joseph just shrugged it off. Then he helped me memorize it.
I was just finishing feeding my donkeys when Joseph knocked and asked to use one for his trip to Bethlehem. “That’s a long way,” I said, unhitching one of my sturdier donkeys. “But I suppose there is no getting around it. I guess a lot of people will be traveling for the Roman census.”
There was no use asking how long Joseph would be gone. Nobody knows. I did ask why he wanted a donkey, though. He said it was for his new wife. That made me hesitate for a minute, knowing that Joseph’s pregnant wife, carrying a baby that’s not his, would be sitting on my donkey. “Please” was all Joseph said.
After Joseph left, my wife came in to tell me it was lunchtime. I didn’t tell her what had happened.
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