The pile of coins resting on the table was pitifully small. Hezekiah, a weathered man with more than a fair share gray hairs, sat back and contemplated the tiny sum wearily. It was nowhere near enough to pay his debts.
A harsh knock on the door caused his laden heart to sink further. "That is certainly another creditor come to take his piece," Hezekiah grumbled to himself dejectedly. The beaten man slowly rose from his seat and went to the front door of his small inn, reluctantly opening it.
As expected, it was yet another man come to take his share of Hezekiah's meager finances. The innkeeper sadly handed over an amount far short of what was owed. "I will have more for you in a week," Hezekiah promised. "Sadly, business has been slow of late, and I have other demands on my pocket."
The creditor appraised the few coins now in his possession and frowned. "Our patience is wearing thin, Hezekiah. I have demands on my own pocket to be concerned with. Unfortunately I cannot continue to give you extensions. If I do not have the remainder of the sum owed me by the end of the month, I will have to seize your inn and sell it."
"But this is my home... my son's home... please, have mercy upon a poor soul who tries his hardest."
"You have three weeks. Good day." With that farewell, the creditor departed.
Hezekiah closed the door and went to seek the privacy of his own room. It was a small affair, less in size and furnishings than any other room in the inn. Dropping to his knees by the old, straw bed, Hezekiah let the tears fall.
"Oh God," his voice quavered as he pled, "I have tried my hardest these past years to provide a home for my son and I. Unfortunately I am not a smart man, and without my dear, departed wife here, I cannot keep this inn running. I am too soft hearted to speak up when my sweet, compassionate son gives a room away to one in need for little to none. How could I? But now we are about to lose our home and I come to you tonight in supplication. Help me find a way to raise the money for my creditors that I may save my home and be an honorable man who pays his debts as promised. Please send us hope." His prayer at an end, and his heart broken and filled with grief, Hezekiah climbed into bed and fell into an uneasy sleep.
* * * * *
Morning came and Hezekiah had no choice but to climb out of bed and face the world. He went about his chores with shoulders bowed by deep melancholy and a heart shriveled without the hope that usually filled it.
Before the sun had even risen, Hezekiah was walking through the streets, ferrying buckets of water back to the inn to provide for his customers' needs for the day, for he had no money to hire a boy for the laborious chore as all the other innkeepers did.
On his last trip back to the inn, Hezekiah passed a board upon which notices were posted. This time his eye was caught by an official looking proclamation. Hezekiah read the notice and felt his back straighten and the load on his back become lighter. The notice brought him the hope he had prayed for late in the previous night: a command for all citizens of the empire to return to the city of their ancestors to be counted and taxed.
Hezekiah's steps were light as he rushed back to the inn. He had only a week to prepare for the influx of travelers in need of beds and food.
Hezekiah's son, Habakkuk, was already up and going about his chores when Hezekiah burst in the door.
"Haba!" Hezekiah shouted happily when he saw him. "A great thing is about to happen." Hezekiah quickly explained Caeser's declaration and what it meant for them.
"Do we not have to leave?" Habakkuk asked slowly. The round, gentle facial features that clearly marked Habakkuk as special were clearly confused.
Hezekiah smiled. "No, Haba, for our family has lived in this town for many generations. We can stay. And if we can fill our inn with travelers, we may make enough to appease our creditors."
Hezekiah paused and looked deep into his son's big, soft eyes. "Habakkuk, listen to me carefully. This is very important. If we are to make enough money for our creditors, we must charge everyone full price for their room and board. Do you understand? We cannot give anyone free rooming these next few weeks."
Habakkuk avoided his father's piercing gaze, looking instead at the floor.
"Haba, tell me you understand. Promise me you will do as I ask," Hezekiah pled.
"But... what if someone really needs a place to be welcomed?" Habakkuk asked.
Hezekiah sighed. That was the problem. Habakkuk was such a compassionate soul that he saw the inn not as a means to make a living, but as a way to help travelers in need. Haba had no desire to charge money when all he wanted to do was give a weary traveler a home away from home, a place to feel welcome and loved and comfortable.
With a heavy heart, Hezekiah said what he had longed to keep from his innocent son. "If we cannot bring in enough money during the taxing, we will lose the inn and then you will never be able to give travelers a home away from home."
Praying that his pleas would have an effect, Hezekiah left Habakkuk to his chores and went about his own preparations.
* * * * *
The time of the taxing quickly came and the inn was soon packed with travelers from near and far. Hezekiah was swamped with tasks as he tried to do the work of several men in catering to his clients. With a never-ending stream of chores and demands, Hezekiah was forced to let his son handle renting rooms out to newcomers. Every time Hezekiah passed near his son, he was sure to shout out, "Full price, Haba!"
The demands kept increasing and Hezekiah never had a chance to check up on Haba as he frantically rushed to and fro, trying desperately to keep up.
Stressed beyond belief and worn ragged, Hezekiah was eventually forced to take a breather. He set the water jug down and leaned against an empty space of wall. Only when he had a moment to really look around did he realize that there seemed to be far too many people packed into the small inn. "What is going on," he asked himself aloud, even though he knew exactly what was happening.
Ignoring his many, many customers calling out for food and drink, Hezekiah rushed to the desk by the front door where Habakkuk was working.
"Haba, what is going on? Why are there so many people in here? We don't have enough rooms for them all," Hezekiah shouted.
Sadly, Hezekiah was stressed from stretching himself so thin and from the worry of losing his home. He missed the hurt in Haba's eyes and continued shouting.
"When those people realize that they do not all have rooms, they will start to demand their money back and leave. Have you even been charging full price?"
Without waiting for an answer, Hezekiah roughly shoved past Habakkuk and yanked open the money drawer. There was a large pile of coins within, far larger than he'd had at any one time since his wife's passing, but it was not nearly as large as it should have been considering the number of people packed into the common area.
Fear and worry caused Hezekiah to become exceedingly angry. They'd had one miracle of a chance to save the inn, and now it seemed to be slipping away. "We'll have to close the inn for the night," Hezekiah ordered harshly. "If anyone else comes, you are to turn them away. Do you understand, Haba?"
A hurt and scared Habakkuk nodded Barely, eyes glues to the floor.
"Now, go tend to everyone's mugs," Hezekiah demanded.
At that moment a gentle knock came at the door. Hezekiah spun and yanked at the door handle. He barely glanced at the couple on his doorstep before shouting, "There is no more room in the inn!" and slammed the door again.
Haba had tears in his eyes as his father ordered him to get to work. Haba grabbed the water pitcher but didn't make it far before Hezekiah stormed off to count the money.
His heart aching for the couple who'd been turned away, Habakkuk quickly set down the pitcher and dashed through the door into the chilly night. The man and his wife were slowly making their way down the street. They seemed unsure of where to go next and Haba's gentle heart yearned to comfort the poor, lost souls.
Running after them, Haba shouted, "Wait, we have room for you too."
The couple, the woman riding upon a donkey, stopped and looked back at him. When Haba caught up, the man introduced himself as Joseph and the woman as his wife, Mary. Haba's heart broke even more as he saw that the kind Mary was great with child, and seemed to be in pain. Joseph explained that the child was to come very soon.
Filled with love and compassion, Haba rushed them back to the inn. Fearing his father's wrath if he brought more guests into the inn, Haba led them around back to the manger, a small cave in the hill behind the inn where Hezekiah kept a few livestock.
Haba offered the manger to Mary and Joseph for the night at no charge. The couple humbly accepted and Joseph quickly made a bed in the hay for his wife. Haba, having helped his mother with delivery on a few occasions, knew what would be needed. Rushing back into the inn, he retrieved several blankets, cloths, and a pail of heated water. Joseph thanked him for the items and asked for privacy.
Haba removed himself from the manger and waited across the yard, completely forgetting about their hungry customers as he eagerly looked forward to seeing the little baby. It was a silent night as he waited, alone in the yard, with only the occasional sound drifting to him from the inn or from the woman in labor.
The silence was broken by a door slamming open. "There you are," Hezekiah shouted when he spied Haba standing by the fence. "What are you doing out here? There are customers in the kitchen, serving themselves because they are being ignored."
Hezekiah's rant was cut short by the sweet, high-pitched cry of an infant greeting the world for the first time. Hezekiah fell silent and looked towards the manger in wonder. "Who is in the manger, Haba?"
Haba told him of the couple which had been turned away and how he had gone after them.
"This woman, Mary, was great with child?" Hezekiah asked, filled with guilt for turning such a one as her away.
With tears in his eyes, Hezekiah wrapped his arms around his son. "Thank you, Haba, for showing such compassion when I had none. You truly are a blessing and source of inspiration to me."
Father and son embraced and simply held each other as the stress, hurt, and worry, of the day melted away.
A rustling of cloth drew their attention and they turned to see third shepherds filing solemnly into the yard. "We are here to witness the child's birth," one of them quietly explained to Haba and Hezekiah.
"The child has just been born," Hezekiah said warmly, with a heart full of love. "Let us go into the manger together and witness the miracle that has been brought to us this night."
As the five made their way across the yard, snow began to gently fall upon them. Hezekiah wondered how it could be snowing in that time and place, but paid little attention to the mystery as his mind was focused upon the child.
Together, the five men quietly entered the manger. They found the child wrapped in swaddling clothes, being held close to his mother's heart. Joseph sat next to her, arms wrapped tight around her as they both stared down in wonder at the bundle of joy. A personage glowing in a warm, comforting light stood next to the family, floating in the air.
The angelic messenger turned to the newcomers and declared, "Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord."
And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men."
Once their message was delivered, the messengers of heaven faded. Hezekiah stared in wonder and amazement at the child in his manger, a child that was born to be a sacrifice to save the world from sin. His throat grew tight and his knees grew weak as gratitude and wonder overwhelmed. Hezekiah dropped to his knees in front of the child and said, "I remember learning in my youth of you and your purpose. Tonight I failed to show compassion and love to my son and guests. I thank thee, because I now understand that my past failings cannot define me. Please forgive me."
Haba knelt next to his father and put his arms about him. Warmth welled up in Hezekiah's heart and he knew that had had received the child's forgiveness.
Turning to Mary, Hezekiah offered his own room to the family. Joseph graciously declined, stating no need other than to have his family with him, and the blankets Haba had already brought them.
Seeing that the parents were tired, Hezekiah led Haba from the manger. Seeing the snow still falling, Hezekiah now understood that it was a sign; as the child had come down from the heavens, pure and white, so too did the snow. And when Hezekiah entered the inn, and saw his many customers caring for and happily serving one another, while others prepared sleeping areas for all, Hezekiah realized that when the angelic messenger had spoken of peace on Earth and good will to men, it had been a godly command to the Earth; for one night there would be no sin, no anger, or hatred, or guile, but that the world would be filled with peace, joy, and love in an unknowing celebration of its savior's birth.
(Authors note: I couldn't find a way to add this to the story without detracting from what felt like a perfect ending. So here is the rest: while the people were happily serving themselves in the inn, they generously paid for everything taken. Thus, when Hezekiah arose in the morning, he found another pile of coins large enough to sufficiently pay his debts and keep the inn running for a while. His inn received such a good reputation as a place of joy and comfort from the guests that night that Hezekiah and Habakkuk were able to offer cheap rooms to those in need while still bringing in enough money to keep the inn running for as many years as desired.)
* Resource: Luke 2, King James Bible
A harsh knock on the door caused his laden heart to sink further. "That is certainly another creditor come to take his piece," Hezekiah grumbled to himself dejectedly. The beaten man slowly rose from his seat and went to the front door of his small inn, reluctantly opening it.
As expected, it was yet another man come to take his share of Hezekiah's meager finances. The innkeeper sadly handed over an amount far short of what was owed. "I will have more for you in a week," Hezekiah promised. "Sadly, business has been slow of late, and I have other demands on my pocket."
The creditor appraised the few coins now in his possession and frowned. "Our patience is wearing thin, Hezekiah. I have demands on my own pocket to be concerned with. Unfortunately I cannot continue to give you extensions. If I do not have the remainder of the sum owed me by the end of the month, I will have to seize your inn and sell it."
"But this is my home... my son's home... please, have mercy upon a poor soul who tries his hardest."
"You have three weeks. Good day." With that farewell, the creditor departed.
Hezekiah closed the door and went to seek the privacy of his own room. It was a small affair, less in size and furnishings than any other room in the inn. Dropping to his knees by the old, straw bed, Hezekiah let the tears fall.
"Oh God," his voice quavered as he pled, "I have tried my hardest these past years to provide a home for my son and I. Unfortunately I am not a smart man, and without my dear, departed wife here, I cannot keep this inn running. I am too soft hearted to speak up when my sweet, compassionate son gives a room away to one in need for little to none. How could I? But now we are about to lose our home and I come to you tonight in supplication. Help me find a way to raise the money for my creditors that I may save my home and be an honorable man who pays his debts as promised. Please send us hope." His prayer at an end, and his heart broken and filled with grief, Hezekiah climbed into bed and fell into an uneasy sleep.
* * * * *
Morning came and Hezekiah had no choice but to climb out of bed and face the world. He went about his chores with shoulders bowed by deep melancholy and a heart shriveled without the hope that usually filled it.
Before the sun had even risen, Hezekiah was walking through the streets, ferrying buckets of water back to the inn to provide for his customers' needs for the day, for he had no money to hire a boy for the laborious chore as all the other innkeepers did.
On his last trip back to the inn, Hezekiah passed a board upon which notices were posted. This time his eye was caught by an official looking proclamation. Hezekiah read the notice and felt his back straighten and the load on his back become lighter. The notice brought him the hope he had prayed for late in the previous night: a command for all citizens of the empire to return to the city of their ancestors to be counted and taxed.
Hezekiah's steps were light as he rushed back to the inn. He had only a week to prepare for the influx of travelers in need of beds and food.
Hezekiah's son, Habakkuk, was already up and going about his chores when Hezekiah burst in the door.
"Haba!" Hezekiah shouted happily when he saw him. "A great thing is about to happen." Hezekiah quickly explained Caeser's declaration and what it meant for them.
"Do we not have to leave?" Habakkuk asked slowly. The round, gentle facial features that clearly marked Habakkuk as special were clearly confused.
Hezekiah smiled. "No, Haba, for our family has lived in this town for many generations. We can stay. And if we can fill our inn with travelers, we may make enough to appease our creditors."
Hezekiah paused and looked deep into his son's big, soft eyes. "Habakkuk, listen to me carefully. This is very important. If we are to make enough money for our creditors, we must charge everyone full price for their room and board. Do you understand? We cannot give anyone free rooming these next few weeks."
Habakkuk avoided his father's piercing gaze, looking instead at the floor.
"Haba, tell me you understand. Promise me you will do as I ask," Hezekiah pled.
"But... what if someone really needs a place to be welcomed?" Habakkuk asked.
Hezekiah sighed. That was the problem. Habakkuk was such a compassionate soul that he saw the inn not as a means to make a living, but as a way to help travelers in need. Haba had no desire to charge money when all he wanted to do was give a weary traveler a home away from home, a place to feel welcome and loved and comfortable.
With a heavy heart, Hezekiah said what he had longed to keep from his innocent son. "If we cannot bring in enough money during the taxing, we will lose the inn and then you will never be able to give travelers a home away from home."
Praying that his pleas would have an effect, Hezekiah left Habakkuk to his chores and went about his own preparations.
* * * * *
The time of the taxing quickly came and the inn was soon packed with travelers from near and far. Hezekiah was swamped with tasks as he tried to do the work of several men in catering to his clients. With a never-ending stream of chores and demands, Hezekiah was forced to let his son handle renting rooms out to newcomers. Every time Hezekiah passed near his son, he was sure to shout out, "Full price, Haba!"
The demands kept increasing and Hezekiah never had a chance to check up on Haba as he frantically rushed to and fro, trying desperately to keep up.
Stressed beyond belief and worn ragged, Hezekiah was eventually forced to take a breather. He set the water jug down and leaned against an empty space of wall. Only when he had a moment to really look around did he realize that there seemed to be far too many people packed into the small inn. "What is going on," he asked himself aloud, even though he knew exactly what was happening.
Ignoring his many, many customers calling out for food and drink, Hezekiah rushed to the desk by the front door where Habakkuk was working.
"Haba, what is going on? Why are there so many people in here? We don't have enough rooms for them all," Hezekiah shouted.
Sadly, Hezekiah was stressed from stretching himself so thin and from the worry of losing his home. He missed the hurt in Haba's eyes and continued shouting.
"When those people realize that they do not all have rooms, they will start to demand their money back and leave. Have you even been charging full price?"
Without waiting for an answer, Hezekiah roughly shoved past Habakkuk and yanked open the money drawer. There was a large pile of coins within, far larger than he'd had at any one time since his wife's passing, but it was not nearly as large as it should have been considering the number of people packed into the common area.
Fear and worry caused Hezekiah to become exceedingly angry. They'd had one miracle of a chance to save the inn, and now it seemed to be slipping away. "We'll have to close the inn for the night," Hezekiah ordered harshly. "If anyone else comes, you are to turn them away. Do you understand, Haba?"
A hurt and scared Habakkuk nodded Barely, eyes glues to the floor.
"Now, go tend to everyone's mugs," Hezekiah demanded.
At that moment a gentle knock came at the door. Hezekiah spun and yanked at the door handle. He barely glanced at the couple on his doorstep before shouting, "There is no more room in the inn!" and slammed the door again.
Haba had tears in his eyes as his father ordered him to get to work. Haba grabbed the water pitcher but didn't make it far before Hezekiah stormed off to count the money.
His heart aching for the couple who'd been turned away, Habakkuk quickly set down the pitcher and dashed through the door into the chilly night. The man and his wife were slowly making their way down the street. They seemed unsure of where to go next and Haba's gentle heart yearned to comfort the poor, lost souls.
Running after them, Haba shouted, "Wait, we have room for you too."
The couple, the woman riding upon a donkey, stopped and looked back at him. When Haba caught up, the man introduced himself as Joseph and the woman as his wife, Mary. Haba's heart broke even more as he saw that the kind Mary was great with child, and seemed to be in pain. Joseph explained that the child was to come very soon.
Filled with love and compassion, Haba rushed them back to the inn. Fearing his father's wrath if he brought more guests into the inn, Haba led them around back to the manger, a small cave in the hill behind the inn where Hezekiah kept a few livestock.
Haba offered the manger to Mary and Joseph for the night at no charge. The couple humbly accepted and Joseph quickly made a bed in the hay for his wife. Haba, having helped his mother with delivery on a few occasions, knew what would be needed. Rushing back into the inn, he retrieved several blankets, cloths, and a pail of heated water. Joseph thanked him for the items and asked for privacy.
Haba removed himself from the manger and waited across the yard, completely forgetting about their hungry customers as he eagerly looked forward to seeing the little baby. It was a silent night as he waited, alone in the yard, with only the occasional sound drifting to him from the inn or from the woman in labor.
The silence was broken by a door slamming open. "There you are," Hezekiah shouted when he spied Haba standing by the fence. "What are you doing out here? There are customers in the kitchen, serving themselves because they are being ignored."
Hezekiah's rant was cut short by the sweet, high-pitched cry of an infant greeting the world for the first time. Hezekiah fell silent and looked towards the manger in wonder. "Who is in the manger, Haba?"
Haba told him of the couple which had been turned away and how he had gone after them.
"This woman, Mary, was great with child?" Hezekiah asked, filled with guilt for turning such a one as her away.
With tears in his eyes, Hezekiah wrapped his arms around his son. "Thank you, Haba, for showing such compassion when I had none. You truly are a blessing and source of inspiration to me."
Father and son embraced and simply held each other as the stress, hurt, and worry, of the day melted away.
A rustling of cloth drew their attention and they turned to see third shepherds filing solemnly into the yard. "We are here to witness the child's birth," one of them quietly explained to Haba and Hezekiah.
"The child has just been born," Hezekiah said warmly, with a heart full of love. "Let us go into the manger together and witness the miracle that has been brought to us this night."
As the five made their way across the yard, snow began to gently fall upon them. Hezekiah wondered how it could be snowing in that time and place, but paid little attention to the mystery as his mind was focused upon the child.
Together, the five men quietly entered the manger. They found the child wrapped in swaddling clothes, being held close to his mother's heart. Joseph sat next to her, arms wrapped tight around her as they both stared down in wonder at the bundle of joy. A personage glowing in a warm, comforting light stood next to the family, floating in the air.
The angelic messenger turned to the newcomers and declared, "Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord."
And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men."
Once their message was delivered, the messengers of heaven faded. Hezekiah stared in wonder and amazement at the child in his manger, a child that was born to be a sacrifice to save the world from sin. His throat grew tight and his knees grew weak as gratitude and wonder overwhelmed. Hezekiah dropped to his knees in front of the child and said, "I remember learning in my youth of you and your purpose. Tonight I failed to show compassion and love to my son and guests. I thank thee, because I now understand that my past failings cannot define me. Please forgive me."
Haba knelt next to his father and put his arms about him. Warmth welled up in Hezekiah's heart and he knew that had had received the child's forgiveness.
Turning to Mary, Hezekiah offered his own room to the family. Joseph graciously declined, stating no need other than to have his family with him, and the blankets Haba had already brought them.
Seeing that the parents were tired, Hezekiah led Haba from the manger. Seeing the snow still falling, Hezekiah now understood that it was a sign; as the child had come down from the heavens, pure and white, so too did the snow. And when Hezekiah entered the inn, and saw his many customers caring for and happily serving one another, while others prepared sleeping areas for all, Hezekiah realized that when the angelic messenger had spoken of peace on Earth and good will to men, it had been a godly command to the Earth; for one night there would be no sin, no anger, or hatred, or guile, but that the world would be filled with peace, joy, and love in an unknowing celebration of its savior's birth.
(Authors note: I couldn't find a way to add this to the story without detracting from what felt like a perfect ending. So here is the rest: while the people were happily serving themselves in the inn, they generously paid for everything taken. Thus, when Hezekiah arose in the morning, he found another pile of coins large enough to sufficiently pay his debts and keep the inn running for a while. His inn received such a good reputation as a place of joy and comfort from the guests that night that Hezekiah and Habakkuk were able to offer cheap rooms to those in need while still bringing in enough money to keep the inn running for as many years as desired.)
* Resource: Luke 2, King James Bible