She looked so tired, Ruth thought, hurrying through the crowded room. As she placed a meal before some of the other guests she couldn’t help stealing another glance at the young women huddled at the other end of the room, silent and drawn as if with pain. Her husband- if that was what he was- stood beside her, looking worried and helpless.
As Ruth threaded her way through the throng back to the cooking pots, she saw the other women in the room looking at the young woman and whispering. She saw that the level of water in the big jug was low, and, sighing, picked up the bucket to go and fetch more. Her mother was standing by the door, talking to another local woman. “I don’t know where we’re going to put them all, I really don’t,” Ruth heard her saying. “And that poor thing at the back, she’s ready to pop, and what we’ll do if she goes into labour I really don’t know. It would be alright if it was just women, but with all the men around! It’s not right, I say. She should have stayed at home, census or not.”
It was dark beyond the courtyard, and Ruth paused to feel the cool breeze, welcome after the heat of the crowded room. It was quieter too. She didn’t pause for long though. Lingering in the streets after dark was not something a respectable young woman should do, and Ruth was old enough to be blamed if anything happened. But she had no brothers, and someone had to fetch water. Quickly she headed towards the well in the next street, drew water, and turned to head back.
That was when she felt it. There was something different in the air tonight. Something- waiting. Ruth shivered in the cool air, and gazed into the darkness, afraid of what she might glimpse. But...no, it wasn’t a fearful tension, like you got when you knew you’d done something wrong and were waiting to be punished. It was more like...like when you were a small child, the night before a feast-day, when you could smell the festival food cooking and see best clothes being laid out and could hardly sit still for excitement.
Ruth shook herself, pulled her cloak closer around herself and hurried home with the water.
*****
The room was still hot, but a little less crowded as the guests began to go to their rooms. Ruth looked over at the young woman on the straw at the animals’ end of the room. She was leaning back against the wall, eyes closed, tense. Occasionally she would move, as if to try to find relief from pain, and moan, but mostly she was silent. The man stood beside her, holding her hand, looking nervous and unsure what to do.
Her mother bustled into the room and joined Ruth in clearing up the plates and cups. Ruth could see that she too was keeping an eye on the couple at the other end of the room. The last of the guests went to find their beds, and the fire burned low.
Suddenly the young woman cried out in pain.
Ruth’s mother was beside her in a moment, pushing the tongue-tied husband gently to one side. “There, my dear, it’s all right, it’s just the early pains. I could see you were near labour when you came in. It’s hard, isn’t it dear, and I’m afraid it gets worse before it gets better. But you’re young and strong, and when you hold the child in your arms it will be worth it all, it will indeed.”
“I’m sorry,” the young girl cried. “It’s my first, I don’t know what to do, and I’m so tired, and...and scared.”
“Bless you dear, you’ll be all right. Don’t fight the pains, just let it happen. Now you just lay back and I’ll go and find some blankets.” She stood up, almost tripping over the father who still hovered uncertainly at his wife’s side, and looked at her daughter. “Build the fire up, Ruth, and put some water on to heat. And get them something to drink.”
Ruth hurried to put more wood on the fire and to pour the wine and water. When she brought it the father was kneeling beside the young woman. The woman was clutching his hand.
“Oh Joseph, it’s coming, I know it is. But what if I can’t- what if something goes wrong?”
At last the man found his tongue.
“I don’t know, Mary, but, well, this is no ordinary child, is it? Our Lord has done this- surely He will be with you now.”
Ruth put the wine and water on a stool beside them. The woman called Mary’s face was drawn with pain and tiredness, and the man called Joseph was a picture of anxiety, but there was something else about them. Ruth couldn’t quite work out what it was, but it reminded her of the strange feeling she had felt by the well.
Her mother returned, carrying blankets and towels. “Fetch a lamp Ruth, we’ll need to see what we’re doing.” Ruth brought a clay oil lamp and placed in on the stool by the wine. Then she went back to the washing up, listening to her mother’s murmurs of reassurance to the frightened young woman at the far end of the room, and wondering what the man called Joseph’s words meant. She had seen that they had brought comfort of some kind to Mary. But what had he meant about it being no ordinary child? Was it to do with the sense of anticipation she had felt?
Ruth had seen newborn babies before, although she had never been present at a birth. She hoped her mother would let her stay up and help. Mary didn’t look much older than she was, and it wouldn’t be very long before she might be married and have children herself.
Her mother came to help her. “It’ll be a while yet,” she said, nodding towards the couple.
“Can I stay and help?” Ruth asked. “Please.” Her mother nodded. “It’ll be good for you to learn.”
