Where the Star Lead Them

The Magi stepped regally out of the dense darkness of the abysmal desert and into the lighted streets of Bethlehem. Their three camels, heavily laden with large satchels of food and spices and, of course, gifts, plodded onto the gravelly and torch lit path, swaying with exhaustion. The squat brick houses loomed up around them as they progressed towards the heart of the town and multiplied rapidly with every street. The million suns sparkling in the night sky above were mostly hidden from view because of the light of the torches lining the paths, but despite the fire burning around them, one was still visible. The New Star hung radiantly before the three men, dust particles and stray grains of sand floating in its dazzling beam. Expressions flooded with awe, the Magi continued further, only too eager to reach their destination as soon as they could. They were already late.

Melchior urged his camel on, hastily wrapping his thick garments about him to keep him from the stinging bite of the icy wind. He secured the rings on his fingers to ensure their safety and took a hold of his camel's reins again and steered him towards the Star. His fellow travellers, Balthasar and Caspar, kicked their animals on until they drew alongside him and matched his pace. Their beasts seemed to discover a newfound energy as they neared the light of the Star and they quickened their paces without the encouragement of their masters the further they went. A small grin found Melchior's lips as he marvelled at the sense of hope and joy that stirred within him, a reassurance that their weeks of travelling had not been in vain. There must really have been a king born tonight.

They passed many signs advertising lodgings for the night and numerous street vendors selling off the last of their stock at reduced prices. Shouts rang out across the dim streets as fights took place in narrow alleyways and the clinking of coins echoed as the last rooms were sold in the inns and payment was exchanged.

"Shall we request directions of the locals?" Caspar inquired quietly, breaking the long silence that had stood between them.

"I would deem that decision wise," replied Balthasar and Mechior nodded in aggrement.

Without hesitation, they pulled the camels over to an inn at the side of the road with candles standing welcomingly in the windows. Melchior reached the door first and leant down to knock raptly again the wooden division. A harsh, gravelly voice answered their knock almost immediately.

"No room! No room! Be off! No room!"

The Magi exchanged amused glances and Balthasar and Caspar fought to conceal smirks as Melchior knocked again.

"We do not seek lodgings!" he shouted at the unresponsive door. Footsteps sounded inside and the door opened a crack. A bearded man's face was revealed in the slit and he glowered at them.

"Then what?" he spat, eyeing their foreign robes with distrust.

Melchior inhaled deeply to maintain his composure and voiced his question with an upwards glance at the New Star. "Where is the one who has been born the king of the Jews? We saw his star when it rose and have come to worship him."

The innkeeper stared in puzzlement for a moment before it appeared a light switched on inside him. "Born? Well, I don't much think he's a king but there's been a birth my stable this evening. Go in, if you wish," he smirked, concealing a chuckle. With a nonchalant flick of his wrist, the innkeeper gestured to the alleyway beside his building. "Down yonder and turn to the left." With that, the man slammed the wooden door back into its frame, leaving the Magi in astonished silence.

"Shall we?" Balthasar said, sweeping his arm in the direction of the alley. The agreement was unanimous and without hesitation, the three men kicked their camels and moved into the dark back street. The light of a faint torch flickered tentatively at the end of the alley and the kings quickened their paces. A burning sensation took ahold of them as they drew nearer to the light. Melchior's heart pounded in his ears. His palms became moist with perspiration and tiny tremors shook them as he cleched the reins tighter. His stomach knotted and contorted and flipped in his abdomen and his breathing became laboured and heavy but he did not feel afraid. He was not worried that their travelling had been in vain, or that this was the incorrect place. He had never been so sure of anything in his life. This was it, this was where the Star had lead them and this was where the prophesised Messiah would be, even if the innkeeper didn't think so.

Melchior lead the Magi around the corner and before them rose a dilapidated looking stable with a feeble flame burning in the corner. The stench of animal dung met his nostrils and icy tendrils of wind stroked his bare skin now that he was in a more exposed area. Cows, sheep, chickens, a donkey and countless other creatures were staged in an almost semi circle and everything seemed strangely harmonious. A woman with dark bags beneath her eyes and a heavy demeanor of exhaustion lay on a bale of hay and a man, presumably her husband, sat beside her, holding her hand in his. But none of this held Melchior's attention for more and a few split seconds. It was he who lay in a lowly manger in the centre of the stable that had his eyes riveted to one place.

It was the Messiah! It was him! There was no doubt about it. In that small, straw filled trough, wrapped in layers of thick blankets, lay a sleeping baby. His eyes were closed and his chest rose and fell at regular intervals, but there was something special about him. Immediately, Melchior slid from his camel and fell to his knees on the sand, raising his hands in worship. He couldn't deny the sense of uncomprehensible peace and love emanating from the child, something that surely only came from above and he knew his friends could feel it too from the thuds from behind him as they too fell to the ground.

Melchior closed his eyes and basked in the sense of wonder that filled his heart. "Welcome, friends," a voice spoke above him. His eyes opened reluctantly and he looked up into the face of the man he had seen beside the woman on the hay. His face was kind and his smile warmed him as he reached out a hand to lift him up. Melchior took it and rose shakily to his feet. He nodded in gratitude, and as the man moved to help the others, Melchior rushed to his satchels to retrieve his gift of gold, a symbol of kingship. A turned and walked hesitantly to the baby and laid the precious metal at his feet.

He smiled the broadest smile that was humanly possible to smile. He felt so honoured to be here on this special night and so humbled by the king in the manger. This would be something that would change him forever and he couldn't deny that this gift from the God of Israel, was truly the greatest gift of all.