Merry Christmas!
I heard this story at a Christmas concert a few weeks ago, and thought it illustrated the meaning of Christmas really well. Some of you may have already heard me tell this story since I used it in a devotion I gave last week, but I hope you enjoy it anyways!
For years now, whenever Christmas
pageants are talked about in a certain little town in the Midwest, someone is
sure to mention the name of Wallace Purling.
Wally's performance in one annual production of the Nativity play has slipped into the realm of legend. But the old-timers who were in the audience that night never tire of recalling exactly what happened.
Wally's performance in one annual production of the Nativity play has slipped into the realm of legend. But the old-timers who were in the audience that night never tire of recalling exactly what happened.
Wally was nine that year and in the
second grade, though he should have been in the fourth. Most people in town
knew that he had difficulty keeping up. He was big and awkward, slow in
movement and mind.
Still, Wally was well liked by the other children in his class, all of whom were smaller than he, though the boys had trouble hiding their irritation when Wally would ask to play ball with them or any game, for that matter, in which winning was important.
Still, Wally was well liked by the other children in his class, all of whom were smaller than he, though the boys had trouble hiding their irritation when Wally would ask to play ball with them or any game, for that matter, in which winning was important.
They'd find a way to keep him out,
but Wally would hang around anyway—not sulking, just hoping. He was a helpful
boy, always willing and smiling, and the protector, paradoxically, of the
underdog. If the older boys chased the younger ones away, it would be Wally
who'd say, "Can't they stay? They're no bother."
Wally fancied the idea of being a
shepherd in the Christmas pageant, but the play's director, Miss Lumbard,
assigned him a more important role. After all, she reasoned, the innkeeper did
not have too many lines, and Wally's size would make his refusal of lodging to
Joseph more forceful.
And so it happened that the usual
large, partisan audience gathered for the town's yearly extravaganza of crooks
and creches, of beards, crowns, halos and a whole stageful of squeaky voices.
No one on stage or off was more caught up in the magic of the night than Wallace Purling. They said later that he stood in the wings and watched the performance with such fascination that Miss Lumbard had to make sure he didn't wander onstage before his cue.
No one on stage or off was more caught up in the magic of the night than Wallace Purling. They said later that he stood in the wings and watched the performance with such fascination that Miss Lumbard had to make sure he didn't wander onstage before his cue.
Then the time came when Joseph
appeared, slowly, tenderly guiding Mary to the door of the inn. Joseph knocked
hard on the wooden door set into the painted backdrop. Wally the innkeeper was
there, waiting.
"What do you want?" Wally
said, swinging the door open with a brusque gesture.
"We seek lodging."
"Seek it elsewhere." Wally
spoke vigorously. "The inn is filled."
"Sir, we have asked everywhere
in vain. We have traveled far and are very weary."
"There is no room in this inn
for you." Wally looked properly stern.
"Please, good innkeeper, this
is my wife, Mary. She is heavy with child and needs a place to rest. Surely you
must have some small corner for her. She is so tired."
Now, for the first time, the
innkeeper relaxed his stiff stance and looked down at Mary. With that, there
was a long pause, long enough to make the audience a bit tense with
embarrassment.
"No! Begone!" the prompter
whispered.
"No!" Wally repeated
automatically. "Begone!"
Joseph sadly placed his arm around
Mary and Mary laid her head upon her husband's shoulder and the two of them
started to move away. The innkeeper did not return inside his inn, however.
Wally stood there in the doorway, watching the forlorn couple. His mouth was
open, his brow creased with concern, his eyes filling unmistakably with tears.
And suddenly this Christmas pageant
became different from all others.
"Don't go, Joseph," Wally
called out. "Bring Mary back." And Wallace Purling's face grew into a
bright smile. "You can have my room."
Some people in town thought that the
pageant had been ruined. Yet there were others—many, many others—who considered
it the most Christmas of all Christmas pageants they had ever seen.
Wally had room in his heart for Jesus, the King of Kings. Do you?
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