Award-winning Publishers Weekly Best-selling Author

I sit at the corner table of the quaint, cozy café and stare out the window, daydreaming about sugar-plums, reindeer, and stockings hung by a fireplace with care. One thought races through my mind with Christmas only four days away. Will it snow? Pretty please?

There’s nothing like colored lights shining through a carpet of freshly fallen snow. Breathtaking!

I sigh. The weather stations aren’t predicting any white stuff. snow

The door opens and the bells jingle as a young woman enters. She glances in my direction, her cornflower blue eyes sparkling in the dim lighting. Her brunette hair peeks through the scarf covering her head.

Recognition hits me. Her identity is unmistakable.

The Chosen One—Mary, the mother of Jesus.

I wave. She smiles and walks towards my table. Her youth surprises me. Was she really that young when she gave birth to baby Jesus? A fact we tend to forget.

I stand and extend my hand in greeting. “Thank you for agreeing to my interview.”

She nods before returning my gesture and sitting. “I can’t get over how cold it is here.” She rubs her arms.

“But still no snow.” I wrinkle my nose.

Her eyes widen. “Oh, I’d love to see that. It rarely, if never, snows in Bethlehem.”

“Really? It’s beautiful—like God painted the earth with white fluff.”

A waitress approaches and asks for our order. To celebrate the season, we both ask for a candy cane white hot chocolate.

I browse through my questions and pick one. “What was the first thought that ran through your mind when Gabriel revealed God’s plan?”

“Are you crazy?” She giggles and puts her hand over her mouth. “Of course, I didn’t say that. I knew God had a plan and I obeyed.”

So young to be so obedient. We’d all do well to follow this youth’s example.

“How did you handle all the gossip flowing through your small town once word got out about your unwed pregnancy?”

She shrugs. “Both Joseph and I knew the truth. So did God. That’s all that mattered.”

Her straightened posture displays confidence that impresses me. No wonder you picked her, Lord.

The waitress brings our hot chocolates, and Mary takes a sip. Her eyes bulge like a child opening a present on Christmas day. “Wow, this is yummy.”

I snicker. “I know.” I check the time to see how many more questions I can ask before our hour is up. “What was it like knowing you were carrying the Savior of the world?”

A group of teens burst through the door, drawing her attention away from our conversation. Their laughter changes the expression on her face. Do I see longing there? The responsibility must have been enormous.

Do you feel like you missed out on your youth?

The question niggles at me, but I decide to keep it to myself. Some things are best left unspoken.

She turns back to me. “I went through a range of emotions. Fear. Dread of what was to come. Honor to have been chosen.” She leans back, her hand automatically reaching for her stomach. “Love.” mary joseph

I smile. A labor of love. The song by Point of Grace runs through my mind, prompting my next question. “You were in a stable, giving birth without your mother to guide you. You must have felt so alone. How did you get through that?”

“Only through God’s grace and Joseph’s help.”

“What did you do when you saw the face of God?”

I hold my breath, anticipating her answer.

“I kissed His face and said, ‘Welcome to this world. Save us.’ And then the night was still. Not even the animals stirred.”

Wow. Shivers run up my spine.

Our Savior was born in the midst of shepherds and animals in a lowly manger. When will we ever grasp the truth of how big this is? We live in a world with everything around us. Mary and Joseph had nothing but a crèche in a barn that probably had holes in the roof. Or it could have been a cave. How can we comprehend that when we have fully equipped hospitals?

I don’t think we can.

A question not on my list surfaces, but I have to ask it. “You kissed His face when He was born and then thirty-three years later, you kissed his face before He died on a cross between two thieves. How does a mother deal with that?”

“She doesn’t. She just trusts in the One who ordained it.”

Tears well in my eyes and I’m once again blown away at the wisdom of this young lady. How many times have I failed at trusting in God? Too many to count.

But yet, Mary humbly and without question, obeyed God and took part in His perfect plan of bringing the Redeemer into the world.

That in itself is a lesson learned. Do I question God when He asks me to do something? I need to trust.

God chose a simple teenager to be the mother of the Redeemer. She was the Chosen One.

Mary glances out the window and squeals. “It’s snowing!”

I follow her gaze and laugh. “Well, would you look at that? My wish came true.”

The ground is covered with a blanket of white, fluffy snow.

I grab her hand and pull her up. “Come on, I’ll show you how to make snow angels.”

We giggle and race out of the café.

Put yourself in Mary’s shoes. How do you think it would have felt carrying the Savior of the world?

Luke 1:38 (The VOICE)

Here I am, the Lord’s humble servant. As you have said, let it be done to me.

I leave you with this amazing song as it will stir your hearts to what Mary must have gone through.

Labor of Love (written by Andrew Peterson – performed by Point of Grace)



  1. Heather Joyes.



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