Jews. We assumed he had been brought to the palace, so we came here first. We have brought gifts—’
‘How interesting,’ said Herod. ‘And where was he born, this royal child?’
‘In Bethlehem.’
‘Come a little closer,’ said the king, lowering his voice. ‘You understand – you are men of the world, you know these things – for reasons of state I have to be very careful what I say. There are powers abroad that you and I know little about, but they wouldn’t hesitate to kill such a child if they found him, and the most important thing now is to protect him. You go to Bethlehem – make enquiries – and as soon as you have any information, come and tell me. I’ll make sure that the dear child is looked after safely.’
So the astrologers went the few miles south to Bethlehem to find the child. They looked at their star charts, they consulted their books, they made lengthy calculations, and finally, after asking at nearly every house in Bethlehem, they found the family they were looking for.
‘So this is the child who is to rule over the Jews!’ they said. ‘Or is it that one?’
Mary proudly held out her little weak son. The other was sleeping peacefully nearby. The astrologers paid homage to the child in his mother’s arms, and opened their treasure chests and gave gifts: gold, and frankincense, and myrrh.
‘You’ve come from Herod, you say?’ said Joseph.
‘Oh, yes. He wants us to go back and tell him where to find you, so he can make sure the child is safe.’
‘If I were you,’ said Joseph, ‘I’d go straight home. The king is unpredictable, you know. He might take it into his head to punish you. We’ll take the child to him in good time, don’t worry.’
The astrologers thought this was good advice, and went their way. Meanwhile, Joseph packed their goods hastily, and set off that very night with Mary and the children and went to Egypt, because he knew King Herod’s volatile ways, and feared what he would do.
The Death of Zacharias
He was right to do so. When Herod realised that the astrologers were not going to come back, he flew into a rage and ordered that every child in Bethlehem and the neighbourhood under two years of age should be killed at once.
One of the children of the right age was John, the son of Zacharias and Elizabeth. As soon as they heard of Herod’s plan, Elizabeth took him up into the mountains looking for somewhere to hide. But she was old and could not walk very far, and in her despair she cried out, ‘Oh mountain of God, shelter a mother and her child!’
At once the mountain opened and offered her a cave in which to shelter.
So she and the child were safe, but Zacharias was in trouble. Herod knew that he had recently fathered a child, and sent for him.
‘Where is your child? Where have you hidden him?’
‘I am a busy priest, Your Majesty! I spend all my time about the business of the temple! Looking after children is women’s work. I don’t know where my son can be.’
‘I warn you – tell the truth! I can spill your blood if I want to.’
‘If you shed my blood, I shall be a martyr to the Lord,’ said Zacharias, and that came true, because he was killed there and then.
The Childhood of Jesus
Meanwhile, Joseph and Mary were deciding what to call their sons. The firstborn was to be named Jesus, but what to call the other, Mary’s secret favourite? In the end they gave him a common name, but in view of what the shepherds had said, Mary always called him Christ, which is Greek for Messiah. Jesus was a strong and cheerful baby, but Christ was often ill, and Mary worried about him, and gave him the warmest blankets, and let him suck honey from her fingertip to stop him crying.
Not long after they had arrived in Egypt, Joseph heard that King Herod had died. It was safe to go back, and so they set off to Joseph’s home town of Nazareth in Galilee. There the children grew up.
And as time passed there came more children to join them, more brothers, and sisters too. Mary loved all her children, but not equally. The little Christ seemed to her to need special care. Where Jesus and the other children were boisterous and played loudly together, getting into mischief, stealing fruit, shouting out rude names and running away, picking fights, throwing stones, daubing mud on house walls, catching sparrows, Christ clung to his mother’s skirts and spent hours in reading and prayer.
One day Mary went to the house of a neighbour who was a dyer. Jesus and Christ both came with her, and while she was talking to the dyer, with Christ close by her side, Jesus went into the workshop. He looked at all the vessels containing different coloured dyes, and dipped a finger in each one, and then wiped them on the pile of cloths waiting to be dyed. Then he thought that the dyer would notice and be angry with him, so he bundled up the entire pile and thrust it all into the vessel containing a black dye.
He went back to the room where his mother was talking to the dyer, and Christ saw him and said, ‘Mama, Jesus has done something wrong.’
Jesus had his hands behind him. ‘Show me your hands,’ said Mary.
He brought his hands around to show. They were coloured black, red, yellow, purple and blue.
‘What have you been doing?’ she said.
Alarmed, the dyer ran into his workshop. Bulging out of the top of the vessel with the black dye was an untidy heap of cloth, besmeared and stained with black, and with other colours as well.
‘Oh no! Look what this brat has done!’ he cried. ‘All this cloth – it’ll cost me a fortune!’
‘Jesus, you bad boy!’ said Mary. ‘Look, you’ve destroyed all this man’s work! We’ll have to pay for it. How can we do that?’
‘But I thought I was helping,’ said Jesus.
‘Mama,’ said Christ, ‘I can make it all better.’
And he took a corner of cloth, and said to the dyer:
‘What colour is this one supposed to be, sir?’
‘Red,’ said the dyer.
And the child pulled it out of the vessel, and it was red all over. Then he pulled out each of the remaining cloths, asking the dyer what colour it should be, and so they were: each piece was perfectly dyed just as the customer had ordered it.
The dyer marvelled, and Mary embraced the child Christ and kissed him again and again, filled with joy at the goodness of the little fellow.
Another time Jesus was playing beside the ford across a brook, and he made some little sparrows out of mud and set them all up in a row. A pious Jew who was passing saw what he was doing and went to tell Joseph.
‘Your son has broken the sabbath!’ he said. ‘Do you know what he’s doing down by the ford? You should control your children!’
Joseph hurried to see what Jesus was doing. Christ had heard the man shouting, and followed close behind Joseph. Other people were following too, having heard the commotion. They got there just as Jesus made the twelfth sparrow.
