Mary winced as the donkey made its way through the crowds of Bethlehem, bumping into what felt like everything and everyone along the way. She was hot, she was tired and they still needed to find a place to stay for the night.

The streets were packed with families just like hers, coming to and leaving from Bethlehem to be counted in the census. People chattering, children laughing, children crying, animals lowing with confusion and frustration.

She looked over at her soon to be husband, Joseph. Sweet Joseph. Who walked beside her and the donkey the entire way to Bethlehem to make sure that she and the baby were comfortable, safe, and rested. She smiled to herself, grateful for the kind, thoughtful, honorable man with whom she would spend the rest of her life.

That’s when she felt it. The first labor pain. She let out a small sound of discomfort, and immediately Joseph was at her side, asking her what was wrong. It was amazing that he could have heard it at all amidst everything that was going on on this overcrowded Bethlehem street.

Immediately Joseph went into action. He began stopping at every place he could think of that they might be able to spend the night. Each and every place was full. Full of noisy, laughing, safe, comfortable people who had a place to rest their heads for the night.

They walked up to the last Inn they could think of, and Joseph walked into a room packed with people, so loud he could barely hear himself think. The innkeeper shook his head and Joseph hung his head in defeat. He began to walk away but felt the innkeepers hand on his shoulder, stopping him. There was an open stable in the barn attached to the inn – it wasn’t much but they could have it if they really needed.

Joseph’s mind reeled. Is this where the Savior was to be born? Is this what he had to subject his bride to? Giving birth in a place where animals ate, slept, and – well he didn’t want to think about it. It was something and Mary’s discomfort was growing every minute.

He met Mary back on the street and led her and the donkey around the side of the inn into the stable the innkeeper described. Joseph looked at Mary, seeking her approval, and she smiled sweetly at him grateful to be stepping down from the donkey after their long journey.

The barn was anything but peaceful. A cacophony of animals going about their business – donkeys braying, sheep bleating, horses snorting, dogs howling, mice squeaking.

And, now, a young mother giving birth to the savior of the world. The Savior of those same people who bumped into Mary’s donkey, the same people who turned them away from their homes and inns, the same people who ate and drank in comfort while a helpless young woman was in labor.

A Savior. A King born in a stable. A holy child laid in a manger. A wild contrast to the royal birth he deserved.

Mary looked at her son, God’s Son – crying, whimpering as he entered the presence of the very sin he would one day redeem with his blood. Of course, Mary did not know this. She could only think of the life ahead of them as they raised God’s one and only Son.

Mary laid her exhausted head down on a bed of hay, closed her weary eyes, and fell asleep amidst the bustle on the street, the chatter in the inn, the commotion of animals, and the crying of her baby.

A not so silent, not so calm, but a very Holy night.