It had been a strange night and Anna hadn’t slept well. There were so many people in their house overnight, and sharing a bed with Ben on the floor meant spending the night fighting for the covers.

There was not a breath of wind as she slipped outside, in time to see the first rays of light just a smudge in the east. Anna loved this time of day. It was her special time to think and be without the beck and call of Grandma and her parents and the teasing, or worse still, the ignoring of her four brothers. The stars overhead winked at her as she stamped her feet in the cold. “Hello my magical blanket” she whispered back to them. Scanning the patterns of light, Anna noticed a large star, or was it two stars, in the east. It was a strange night – she hadn’t seen that star in her blanket sky before.

Down underneath the house she went, into the stable where the animals were housed. The straw was damp with cold as she tugged at it to entice the cow to stand still. The underside of the cow was warm and smooth and her fingers rhythmically pulled the teats, the milk frothing in the earthen bowl.

Then to the shelf Anna went, where the hens roosted. Her favourites were Myrna and Gail, gifts to her at the time her grandfather died nearly 4 years ago. Gail was the silly one, making Anna laugh with her antics in the yard. Myrna was skittish, scared of the slightest movement, and therefore to be protected. “Hello my little ones. Did you sleep well?” she asked them, as she slid her hand under the birds to the finest feathers underneath. A small warm egg greeted each hand. “Good girls! Good girls!” Anna cooed. The provision of food for the table was a constant struggle, especially as the number of guests varied so much. These eggs were precious for the morning meal, but especially for Anna as Grandma had warned when her hens stopped laying they would be eaten for meat, so every egg held off that day when another link with her grandfather would be broken.

A baby cried, loud and lusty, at the far end of the stable. People stirred. “More people” Anna thought, and went closer, wondering why they were in the stable on such a cold night. The grey light of dawn was now enough to pick out the threesome, a man and woman on blankets with straw and a baby, who had been put in a hollow of straw at the far end of the hay trough.

“Hello,” came a lady’s voice. “What’s your name?”

“Anna” came the reply.

“Anna, that’s a beautiful name. Would you like to see my baby? He must be hungry.” The lady picked the baby up a little awkwardly, and got it ready to feed. The man was nearby, standing now, not knowing how to help. Anna saw the lady put the baby to her breast. The cries stopped immediately. “There, that’s better,” she said softly. The still morning returned, yet the spell had been broken.

“It looks so small,” Anna ventured.

“Born during the night” said the man. “I hope the shepherds didn’t wake you,” he added with a smile.

“No” said Anna politely, wondering if he was teasing her. “Shepherds can’t be heard inside Bethlehem.” she added warily.

The man and Anna stood for a few seconds, looking at the mother with child. Anna wondered if the baby was named yet. Names were very important to her, because of her own name. Anna was named after her grandmother’s aunt, who was still alive, though very old and spending her days at the temple in Jerusalem. It was an embarrassment to Anna to be named after this woman, who should have died years ago. It was not usual to be named after someone alive; tradition dictated that naming continued the memory of your relative after their death. Anna’s mother had been sure her greataunt would die within a few months of her daughter’s birth, and a girl was a wonderful surprise after 4 sons. Yet Anna was now 12, and her relative was still very much alive, especially in her twinkling eyes. Anna always thought they were like her magical sky blanket during the day.

“Have you named him?” Anna asked.

In the pause after the question, the man and woman exchanged glances. This was an important moment.

“Yes, he has a name,” said the man quietly. “His name is Jesus.”

“Jesus. I haven’t heard that name before,” said Anna. She thought it strange to have a foreign name for this baby, when the couple seemed Hebrew, and were in David’s city for the census. Then she turned away, thinking she had said something wrong. “Would you like some milk?” she said by way of a peace offering.

“We would love some, thank you. I’m Miriam, by the way. Joseph, get out our cups, so Anna can pour into them. I didn’t hear you with the cow. Do you like milking?”

“It warms my hands, and the milk smells sweet, like Grandma’s honey cakes,” Anna replied, carefully pouring some of the white liquid into the cups Joseph held steady.

The eggs moved slightly in the folds of Anna’s clothes with the movement of putting the milk bowl down, and Anna suddenly wanted to give them to these people as a gift. They were her eggs, she reasoned to herself, and she could give them away if she wanted. Only the risk of Myrna and Gail being killed by Grandma held her back from this sudden generosity.

As she swept the floor and tidied up, the eggs seemed heavy with the burden to be given to Miriam and Joseph. Such a start to the day, with this decision upon her. Yet she could sense no peace without the gift giving, so she held the small eggs in her hands and approached the little family.

“I also got eggs this morning, and they are for you,” she said with bowed head.

“Are you sure? That’s a wonderful gift! Thank you, Anna,” said Miriam.

Joseph held out his hand with a smile, which didn’t tease, and Anna put the eggs in his large rough palm. Then she turned to Myrna and Gail, to give them another pat. She hoped they would understand this strange decision she had made, putting their lives at the mercy of Grandma’s practical housekeeping. A tear welled up in her eye as she gave them seed from her hand. The pecking made a wonderful sensation on her palm, half delicious, half hurting. Anna put her hands again under their soft down, and to her amazement another 2 eggs were there! Anna took them with relief. Grandma wouldn’t be mad at her hens now, and the new people could eat breakfast without Anna worrying.

“Thank God for small miracles” she whispered as she stepped outside into the yard. The sun’s rays were stretched across the sky now, bringing colour to the little town.

Celia Naughton