Abraham leaned on the rough wood railing which bordered the porch at the front of his inn. His hard eyes contentedly scanned the dusty, sun-scorched courtyard; this business with the census had created all kinds of chaos, but he did not complain. He welcomed the increase in his business as people were forced to travel to their home towns. That his guests did not want to travel, and would not normally choose to stay at his inn was of no concern to him.

Martha, Abraham’s wife, stubbornly refused to share his joy from this newfound financial windfall. She seemed to be more concerned with the weariness and fatigue of their guests than the money they brought with them. Abraham could not convince her that they were running a  business, and that it was important for them to seize any opportunity to make money. The barn out back was particularly lucrative; animals and possessions alike needing a place to be stored overnight. When all the inns were overcrowded, high rates could be charged for any available space. People did not come to stay at this poor inn if they wanted to be comfortable. There was nothing wrong with putting two or even three families in the same room at double the normal prices. If they didn’t want to pay, they did not have to stay; they could choose to move on or even sleep under the stars.

A slow movement at the edge of the courtyard disturbed Abraham’s happy thoughts of making money. He squinted and stared toward this unwelcome intrusion. A bedraggled figure staggered into view, Abraham stiffened and let out a bellow.

‘Levi, what are you doing, you lazy, good for nothing monkey?’

In response, a boy, who consisted more of bones than flesh, staggered closer to the porch. Two jugs of water, each almost as tall as the boy, weighed him down.  He shuffled to a stop in front of Abraham.

‘Yes master?’ Levi kept his head down, too scared to look Abraham in the face.

Abraham, impervious to the boy’s discomfort, carefully contemplated the situation. Levi did not look up from the ground. Abraham forced his voice to be calm as he spoke. ‘Out of the goodness of my heart, when my wife found you on the streets, I allowed her to feed and shelter you. Given this kindness of mine, is it asking too much for you to help out with the occasional chore in a prompt manner?  I know that you are such an ungrateful wretch that you will never repay my kindness; but as I am a patient man, I will wait to receive my reward in heaven.’

Abraham paused, and glared at Levi. Levi stood still, the ropes around the jars digging deeper into the scant flesh of his shoulders. He had learned from past, bitter experience not to cry out or show pain, as this was rewarded with the verbal attack being prolonged.

After a few moments, Abraham opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Martha came out of the house and interrupted, ‘Levi, there you are, I am waiting for that water.’ Abraham turned to his wife, but her face told him that there was no point arguing with her. Levi gratefully made his way into the house.

Man and wife stood at the front of the inn, their eyes impassively resting on each other. Abraham broke first, ‘Make sure you don’t you feed the boy until he has done all of his work.’

‘He’s only a boy, look at him, all skin and bones.’

‘I am master of this house. You will do as I say.’ Without waiting for a reply, Abraham turned and walked back into the inn.

Martha leaned on her broom, it was her turn to stop and think. Her face softened as she remembered when they were both young and so much in love. They had barely made a living from the inn, but they were so happy working side by side. She had not noticed their great love changing, ebbing away until it was too late.  They had not been blessed with children, and Abraham’s love for her turned into an obsession about money. It was as if wealth might fill the emptiness in his life. Not that money had ever brought them happiness. Pieces of gold and silver could not take the place of what Abraham felt was missing. She felt tears well at the corners of her eyes, tears for the man who had once been. Martha could feel a dark grief begin to overtake her thoughts and before it could take hold, she forced herself to concentrate on the drudgery of the day ahead, efficiently whisking the broom over the porch before going back inside.

The rest of the day passed in the normal routine. Guests grumbled and were ignored.  Abraham stood over Martha in the kitchen, monitoring the amount of food being prepared, shouting at Levi, and as always, talking about the money they were
spending. That evening, the guests retired early to their rooms, primarily in an attempt to secure a preferred space. Once in their rooms they seldom left.  The ones that had comfortable spaces were frightened of losing them. The others sat like predators, waiting for those with the most comfortable spots to leave in answer to the call of nature.  Martha and Abraham sat in front of the inn after the guests had retired for the night. This had been their daily habit started when they were first married.

Out of the dark, a shuffling alerted them to the approach of a weary traveller. The man stopped at the edge of the flickering, pale yellow light cast by the lamp hanging over the porch. Martha and Abraham regarded the man as he summoned up the energy to speak.

‘I need a room.’

‘Sorry all full up.’ Abraham spoke slowly, assessing the man. He determined that this traveller was not in a position to pay enough even for a shared room.

‘Please, you have to help me, my wife is pregnant, and I have been all over town looking for a place for her. I don’t need anything for myself, but please, I’ll pay anything, just to find her a place to rest.’

Martha could feel Abraham starting to bristle. When he smelled money there was a tingle of excitement in the air around him. Abraham started to rub his hands together and opened his mouth, but before any words came out, Martha spoke.

‘There is no room at the inn. For your wife’s sake you are welcome to stay in the stable tonight if you want. There are animals in there, but there is plenty of clean straw, so your wife can be made warm and comfortable.’ There was a brief silence, and then she added quickly, ‘and at least it won’t cost you anything.’

She turned to her husband with hard defiance in her eyes. Abraham didn’t dare reply; something stirred inside him, a faint memory of the eyes of a young bride that shone with fiery energy and determination. The moment passed, and Abraham looked at the traveller.

‘If you want a meal and water, we have the best food at the most reasonable prices.’  He smiled; there could be some profit from this traveller after all.

The relief was visible on the traveller’s face. He stepped back into the darkness, returning a few minutes later leading a donkey. The donkey was carrying bundles of possessions and a very pregnant woman. Martha stepped forward to help.  Keeping up a soft stream of comforting words, she accompanied the woman to the barn at the back of the inn. The traveller followed, and tended to his wife’s comfort, before collapsing into an exhausted sleep himself. A few minutes later Abraham appeared with a tray of food and a jug of water.

‘They’ll still have to pay for this, even if they don’t eat it.’ He grumbled to himself as he sat the tray down. Martha and the animals ignored him, except for the Donkey who had carried the woman; he regarded Abraham balefully while slowly chewing a mouthful of hay. Martha ushered Abraham out of the barn before he could disturb their new guests.

The following morning, before Abraham had arisen, Martha visited the barn. She saw that the woman was in no state to travel and brought blankets and food.

‘Ignore Abraham,’ she told them, ‘stay as long as you need, we will help as much as we can.’ She could not get over the serenity of the lady, and was touched by the gracious gratitude of the traveller. Even the donkey seemed to be calm, and gave her a gentle head nudge on her way out of the barn, as if he were also saying ‘thank you.’

That evening, Martha did not sit with her husband on the steps. She was in the barn, giving what aid she could to the birth. Abraham did not go in, but observed his wife from a distance. Without Martha next to him, he felt lost; but that was not the only thing that was bothering him. He saw how focussed she was on helping this stranger. He had forgotten her compassion, and how gentle she was.  The wrinkled skin, scars of a lifetime of hard work, could not mask the beautiful person who he married so long ago. Hours later, when Martha reluctantly left the barn, Abraham quickly went into the inn so she did not see him watching her. When she got into their room, it appeared as if Abraham had been asleep for many hours.