By Father Andrew Budzinski As we once again celebrate the solemnity of the Nativity of the Lord on Christmas Day, let us imagine what it must have been like in the small stable in Bethlehem, where Mary and Joseph first welcomed Christ into the world. It is anything but a silent night. As you stand across the street from the inn, you see dozens of families crowded around the front. Thousands, like you, have descended into the tiny village of Bethlehem to enroll in the census ordered by the Roman emperor. Everyone is exhausted and just wants a place to lie down and sleep for a few hours. Mothers hold infants in their arms. Fathers hold the hands of their young sons. You hear the pleading voices of those trying to get in. And the voice of the innkeeper says over and over again, “I’m sorry. There isn’t any more room.” Where will you sleep tonight? If you don’t find a place soon, your family will sleep in the streets. You look up and down the street that is overflowing with people who are all looking for the same thing you’re looking for. You hear door after door close, the locks snapping shut, voices shouting, “We have no room. We’re full. Goodnight.” You desperately look for any shelter from the cold. And behind the inn, you see a stable for the animals. For a moment, you can’t believe you’re actually thinking of sleeping in a barn. But then you think, “Grab it, before anyone else does.” You grab your spouse’s hand and cross the street. You’re shoved around as you try to cut across the river of pedestrians. Holding tight onto their hand, you warn them, “Don’t let go. Hold on.” You finally get across the street and walk into the stable. And your heart sinks. Another couple has gotten there before you. You turn around and make your way out so you can find somewhere else to stay. Then the husband in the stable says: “Please, stay. There’s room for you here.” You look around and see a stable filled with animals … On the left, an ox; On the right, a donkey, which is also exhausted and sleeping on the ground; Chickens; And sheep everywhere. And with the animals, there’s also the smell … Of an ox and a donkey; Of Chickens; And of sheep everywhere. You can’t believe you’re actually going to let your family sleep in this filth. But at least the animals will provide warmth. Your son has already curled up on the ground with a young lamb, putting his arm around it and burying his face in its fleece. A smile comes across his face. Your spouse and your daughter find a pile of hay over to the far right of the stable. They begin to gather the straw into a makeshift bed where you and your family will curl up together for the night, keeping one another warm. Completely worn out, you drop your pack of belongings, which hits the ground with a crash. And your spouse sternly says, “SHHHH!” And nods toward something you didn’t notice when you came in. She points in the direction of the animals … And there, in between the ox and the donkey … Is the feeding trough. The husband is scooping up the food out of the trough and laying the armfuls of scraps in front of the ox and donkey. The ox slowly eats. The donkey is still too tired to eat or lift its head. The husband then fills the trough with hay … Piling it up nice and thick. Then he looks over at his wife, Who sits to the left of the feeding trough. She slowly lifts with her right hand her blue veil that is draped around her shoulders and arms … To reveal, in her left arm, a baby. Your jaw drops to see a baby in these conditions … Here in a stable with animals. There are plenty of people in the inn who should have given up their beds for this mother and child. And the thought occurs to you to go tell the innkeeper about this right now. But you can’t take your eyes off this child. You stare, half unbelieving that this child is sleeping here, of all places, And half in amazement at how beautiful the child is – like all babies are. The mother raises her eyes and notices you looking at her Son. And wordlessly, she gestures with her right hand for you to come closer You walk up to the mother and child … And kneel down to behold the baby. And then, the mother begins to lift the child up to you. Surprised and a little embarrassed, you say, “Oh, I couldn’t.” “Please,” the mother says, “Take Him. He belongs to you, too.” And she places the baby in your arms. And you remember when your children were first handed to you. And you held them for the first time. You simply look at Him; and He’s perfect. He looks perfect, He smells perfect, He feels perfect. And you can’t stop staring at Him. You stare into His eyes … That bluish-gray color that all babies’ eyes seem to have. He looks up at you. And His eyes are looking around at the features of your face, Your eyes, your nose, your chin, your hair. He’s fascinated with you. And it occurs to you: You are one of the first people this child has ever seen. You look at His hands … Those tiny little fingers. You move your thumb into the palm of His hand. And like all babies do, He wraps His small fingers around your thumb, holding tight. This hand, which will one day hold a nail for you, holds you as you hold Him.    You didn’t know it … But by this point, your family has gathered around you. They look over your shoulders at the child. And your daughter asks, “Who is that?” A man’s voice softly says, “His name is Jesus.” The father, sitting with his back against the animal stall, with his wife asleep, curled up in his arms, has said this to you. A smile comes across the father’s face. “You can come back here anytime you wish,” he says, “to see Him again. He’s always here for you.” “Stories will be written about Him. You can read them anytime you like.” “Songs will be composed for Him. And the whole world will not be able to help but sing them.” “Families and friends will gather together on this day and will give each other presents because it is His birthday.” And the father closes his eyes to finally go to sleep. You look down at the child. His half-open, sleepy eyes are still fixed on you. And you think to yourself, “I want to watch this child grow up.” “I want to see Him take his first steps.” “I want to hear Him speak.” You wonder what the first word to come out of this child’s mouth will be. It will probably be the first word your son spoke to you, “Abba.” You watch as Jesus’ eyelids slowly close. For just a second, He cries out in a loud voice. Then, He gives up a deep breath – a baby’s sigh. He is exhausted. His work for this day, it is finished. There will be more days like this for Him. 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