The Innkeeper’s Tale
The sign read “FULL” — yet still they came
Requesting lodging just the same.
So many people came that day —
So many people could not stay.
I’d sold the last room long before
That couple ever reached my door;
So tired and dusty were the two —
But even so, what could I do?
With child was she — ‘twas plain to see
But still the choice was made for me:
My inn was filled — from wall to wall —
Some even slept out in the hall.
I’d simply have to tell them “no”,
And like the rest they’d have to go.
But something made me hesitate
While watching them approach my gate;
A feeling that I can’t explain —
It left as swiftly as it came.
But suddenly, without a doubt,
I felt I could not turn them out.
And as I looked from face to face
I knew I had to find a place
To shelter them from open skies —
To harbor them from strangers’ eyes.
I showed them where my stables kept
The livestock while their owners slept;
The horses, donkeys — anything
My guests might have when traveling.
We lit a torch and viewed the scene —
The barn was cold, the floor — unclean.
I brought them blankets, drink, and food
And made them beds — though somewhat crude.
That night I lay awake in bed,
The street-life pounding in my head:
I’d never seen such crowds in town —
I loathed this census of the crown.
Yet in the midst of all the noise
I heard a cry — a newborn voice;
A baby in the barn — indeed!
I went to see what they might need.
I crossed the room but stopped dead-still
For just beyond the farthest hill
I saw a light — a brilliant glow
That lit the grassy fields below.
And never had I seen a light
Shine half as brightly as that night.
What signs lay secret in the sky?
I reached the barn, still asking why.
Requesting lodging just the same.
So many people came that day —
So many people could not stay.
I’d sold the last room long before
That couple ever reached my door;
So tired and dusty were the two —
But even so, what could I do?
With child was she — ‘twas plain to see
But still the choice was made for me:
My inn was filled — from wall to wall —
Some even slept out in the hall.
I’d simply have to tell them “no”,
And like the rest they’d have to go.
But something made me hesitate
While watching them approach my gate;
A feeling that I can’t explain —
It left as swiftly as it came.
But suddenly, without a doubt,
I felt I could not turn them out.
And as I looked from face to face
I knew I had to find a place
To shelter them from open skies —
To harbor them from strangers’ eyes.
I showed them where my stables kept
The livestock while their owners slept;
The horses, donkeys — anything
My guests might have when traveling.
We lit a torch and viewed the scene —
The barn was cold, the floor — unclean.
I brought them blankets, drink, and food
And made them beds — though somewhat crude.
That night I lay awake in bed,
The street-life pounding in my head:
I’d never seen such crowds in town —
I loathed this census of the crown.
Yet in the midst of all the noise
I heard a cry — a newborn voice;
A baby in the barn — indeed!
I went to see what they might need.
I crossed the room but stopped dead-still
For just beyond the farthest hill
I saw a light — a brilliant glow
That lit the grassy fields below.
And never had I seen a light
Shine half as brightly as that night.
What signs lay secret in the sky?
I reached the barn, still asking why.
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