Peach State says: Tis the Season Part 1
Tis the Season for the wearing of costumes. I dress in black, as performers do, and pull over the floor length tunic. I tie the sash in front and place the almost floor length vest over the tunic. The coordinating rose and beige tones spliced with a muted sage flow together with the scarf gently covering my head. I step from 2011 into the Little Town of Bethlehem the night Jesus Christ was born. The market is busy with a throng of wares of the period. The scent of fresh bread cooking over the open fire blended with spices gives way to the fragrant aroma from the fish monger. “The octopus is fresh today so buy it fast” “How much would you like today?” Strolling through the little town with those strangely attired, carrying things next to their ears and flashing from their hands. “Can we get a pic?” I smile and point them to the blacksmith, “He is the best in our town.” They smile and the laugh at our prospective and amuse themselves with the sights.
We warn them to not bother the soldiers from Rome, who have cast visitors from the town for less offenses. They scoff as the Tax Collector as he gathers his taxes and receives special treatment received from the soldiers. “Keep moving” roars the armored vested man who points the way with his spear. “You beggar be off or out of the city you go” echos down the streets into the homes. The carts the visitors push, with little effort or beast, hold small children and garments. Men and women hold covered containers in their hands, not for warmth, but for drinking along the way. The assortments of head coverings and things for the hands and ears are unique and colorful. Some plain and solid and furry and soft with the ears and faces of animals. They want to buy it all and do not understand the reason the jewels in the Brass Shop cost so much. “We have to pay taxes and bribe the soldiers for the opportunity to stay open here.” They marvel that two stones moved around each other making a flour or meal. “How long does it take?” ” When will it be done?” Instant is not what we have here. The smokes blows through the street along with hay from the stables in the back of this little town. Bright lights and singing have filled the air there tonight. this has not happened before so I head for the sight. The Storyteller reminds me of words from the old ones. “Could this be the night?” I wander the last street around to the stable and behold angels in light. The crowd is gathered around looking into this place for the animals. A man stands looking down into a makeshift bed with a woman, his wife, by his side. She wraps something up and places is on the straw as the angels greet shepherds and kings. It is a baby born this night the Savior of the world. Strange warm feelings fill the crowd and smiles and tears mix together on faces. We move to the side so others can see this beautiful, glorious sight.