Author’s Note: The story below is true. Bless you all on this Christmas season and may you each receive a Christmas Miracle. And may we contemplate on that cold starry night the Blessed Mother who sought shelter, and the miracle of birth in a humble manger.
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And When It Snows, Man, It Snows
“Around the world, even today, one of the leading causes of death among teenage girls is childbirth, a fact we take for granted in our society of modern medicine. When we reflect on the picture of Joseph leading a donkey with Mary astride, we need to be mindful that the lives of the Virgin and her unborn child were in great peril. No doubt Joseph was desperate to find warm shelter for his young bride to give birth. Not only was Mary’s painful labor aggravated by riding a donkey across rough and rocky terrain, but the evening brought a bone chilling cold. Often we think of the land of Judea as a hot and dry place. In reality, at this time of year, it can become quite cold. In my lifetime, as it may have that special night long ago, it will sometimes snow in Bethlehem. Thank our Father in heaven that just in time, Joseph found warm shelter for the Madonna among the humble beasts. This Christmas Eve when we gather to celebrate the birth of the Baby Jesus, please remember in your prayers that, in many places in the world, other young girls are giving birth in conditions as shoddy as Mary’s, for they and their babies are just as precious to our Lord, as we privileged few that have been blessed to be born in such a wonderful country.”
Several years back, I published the above piece for a local Christian periodical. If you’ve already read it, you know it’s very self-explanatory. “Sometimes It Snows in Bethlehem”.
When it was published just a few weeks before Christmas, confident as I was, I thought I had outdone myself. Problem was, not many others agreed. This tiny piece made me the object of ridicule by some folks in my small community.
“Sometimes it snows in Bethlehem, what… every thousand years? It’s nothing but desert.” Thus mocked Goober. For the sake of this write, ‘Goober’ is the name I’ll use for him.
And Goober had a sidekick that always had to contribute a commentary to everything he said. “Yeah, it snows there, you betcha,” Bumpy added shaking his head, laughing in disgust. “That’s why they got camels there, to help plow the snow.”
“I’m telling you, it sometimes snows there.” I had to say something in my defense, considering I was being humiliated in front of a bunch of people at the local restaurant/bar.
“It might sprinkle a few snowflakes every now and then, but come on, it doesn’t accumulate like it does here in Wisconsin, where they have to send out the plows. If it did, you’d be seeing pictures and paintings of it, especially during this time of year.”
“And what’s all that crap about Mary going into labor? You’re not just a meteorologist, you’re an OBGYN, too?” (Sounds of laughter resonated in the place.)
I was embarrassed, to say the least. And, like a lot of other men before me in such a humiliating predicament, I had to go and say something really stupid.
“Tell you what, Goober, if it snows in Bethlehem between here and New Year’s Day, you owe me two twenties. If it doesn’t snow, I’ll owe you the same. Deal?” Goober was more than happy to take up my offer.
What an idiot I was. Surely, I would lose. And as the days flew by till Christmas, I had received more than my share of sarcastic inquiries. “Has it snowed yet?” I’d hear people shout as I passed, followed by mocking laughter.
But that all changed on the day before Christmas Eve, when I was awakened by a telephone call from my mother (God rest her soul). “Turn on the news, it’s snowing in Bethlehem!”
Yep, as it turned out, O’ little town of Bethlehem got nearly a foot of snow and I got $40.00 from a guy named Goober.
Now, I’m not naive enough to believe God would alter the weather patterns of the Earth for just me and my silly bet. That would be a ‘Miracle’, and from what I hear, he’s pretty stingy handing them out. But maybe, just maybe, he was sitting in on that conversation that took place in a small-town tavern in rural Wisconsin, and he granted this old fool a Christmas Miracle come true.