There is power in stories. As children, we ask our parents to read them over and over again. My nieces and nephews love to hear stories about things they did when they were little. We get caught up in the stories of great adventures, romances, and tragedies in books and movies. As we mature, we often reflect back and tell story after story of memories from years gone by. As we end this year of St. Joseph, I felt called to share with you a story about St. Joseph in my life, which just happens to include the story of the birth of a poor king.
Some years ago, I had the privilege to make a 30-day silent retreat. As I prayed through the life of Christ in the Scriptures, my retreat director encouraged me to enter into the scene using all of my senses. By using my imagination to enter into the story, something much larger happened: I was invited into a family, the Holy Family. And so the story begins…
I began in Nazareth in the house of Joseph and Mary. I was watching them as a young girl, like a servant’s young daughter, an outsider. They were moving about the house getting their things together to travel to Bethlehem for the census: food, clothing, and all of the necessities. Just before we left the house, I saw both Mary and Joseph each pack a special gift. I didn’t see what they were.
After helping Joseph try to make the stable livable in Bethlehem, I was at the entrance of the cave sitting with him. As we sat in the utter stillness of the night, we heard the Word utter His first cry. A tear ran down Joseph’s cheek. I looked in and saw Mary gently washing and wrapping Jesus. When she was finished she delicately tucked a rose into a fold of His swaddling clothes. This extraordinary gift was cut from the garden where, nine months earlier, the angel Gabriel came to her and told her that she would “conceive in her womb and bear a son” (Luke 1:31).
After a time, Joseph and I entered the cave and as Joseph was holding the baby, he invited me to sit on his knee and look at Jesus. As I sat there, I whispered to Joseph and asked him if he had a gift too. As I continued to sit on his lap, he began to tell me the story of the angel Gabriel and he said that Jesus will be great and a throne would be given to Him and that He will have a kingdom that will not end (cf. Luke 1:32-33). I innocently asked, “So, He is going to be a king?”
“Yes, He is. That is why I made Him this ring. Every king must have a ring.” Joseph had hand carved a ring out of wood; that was his gift. It was tied on a string and again tenderly tucked into the swaddling clothes.
Sometime later, Mary unexpectedly placed Jesus in my arms. She pulled me up close next to her and she put her arm around me. I nuzzled noses with Him and then just held Him close. The three of us dozed in and out of sleep while Joseph kept watch. The longer I held Him, the closer I wanted to be with Him and I knew all He wanted was to be with me. I laid Him on my chest, all the while feeling His little heart beat and smelling His sweetness. As Mary, Jesus, and I slept, Joseph placed a cloak over us. One of the shepherds who had come to see Jesus had left it there. He left it to keep the baby warm.
I was no longer an outsider. Joseph and Mary brought me into their story. Joseph shared part of their family story with me. I was able to be with them in some of the most intimate moments of their lives. I experienced their tender and protective care for me as their daughter. I particularly relished Joseph’s attentiveness to me and the security I experienced knowing that his fatherly eye was always keeping watch over me. Most importantly, they both introduced me to their son, Jesus. Yes, He is a great king, but He became poor, so that I might know that all He wants is to be with me.
As I contemplated Mary and Joseph each offering a gift to Jesus and I experienced the incredible gift of receiving Jesus himself, I felt a desire well up from within me. I wanted to give Jesus a gift too! I didn’t really know what to present to Him. What do I have to give? The only thing that I could and did offer to Him was the key to my heart. Then He could make His home in me and find a place to rest.
All of us have a gift that we bring to the Christ Child this Christmas. Whether it’s the sacrifices of the past year, a sorrow we went through, the joyful moments of the day, the offering of our prayer and work, the gratitude of answered prayers, our service within our families, the inner workings of our heart: we all have something to offer Him.
As we enter into this Advent and Christmas season together, maybe we could each imagine ourselves at the crib and holding out this offering and gift to baby Jesus. How does He respond? What do Mary and Joseph say or do as you offer Him this gift?
You have a gift to give Him.
- Sr. Sophia Grace Huschka, T.O.R.
