Did anyone mention the arrival of the young couple the night before? Did anyone comment on the pregnancy of the girl on the donkey? Perhaps. One’s imagination is kindled thinking about the conversation of the innkeeper and his family at the breakfast table. Soon all the customers would be stirring and there would be a lot of work to do. Every available mat or blanket had been put to use. After all, the inn was full, all the beds taken. The owner of the inn had awakened earlier than most in the town. Children were awakened by the excited barking of the street dogs and the complaints of donkeys pulling carts.
Store owners were unlocking the doors to their shops. Vendors were positioning themselves on the corners of the most heavily traveled avenues. As night gave way to dawn, people were already on the streets. The noise and the bustle began earlier than usual in the village. Step into the doorway, peek through the window. It could have begun anywhere, the story of the king. Cows munching, hooves crunching, a mother humming, a babe nursing.
And, instead of a golden scepter, the king holds a crudely whittled olive-wood rattle.Ĭurious, the sounds in the court.
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