The gifts were many, each a treasure
Some of wealth, more of the heart.
The greetings robust, yet hushed
And filled with awe.
The star shimmered still, even
As morning neared.
Her body drained, Mary sighed, breathing in scents
Of pungent hay, and sheep, and donkey.
Her pulse quickened again at the wonder—
Her new son, her Jesus, who would be Lord.
She knew the Scriptures and held them dear.
Her stomach clenched, overwhelmed at being chosen.
Her, a common girl, not worthy, not ready.
The baby fussed, and Mary hugged Him to her chest. A breeze
Tickled the hairs on her arm, and she smiled.
She thought of the Angel’s words, the shepherd’s words.
The voices lifted in praise.
Mary kept all these things, pondering them in her heart.
She held them dear.
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Connie