Hi my name is Noreen, but my friends call me Nolly, hence my nickname in chat. I live in Kent in the South east of England. I enjoy many crafts, including crochet, embroidery, knitting, cake decorating, gardening and making things with beads. I am also a thespian. Beading is my latest passion and I have made many bracelets, Necklaces, earrings etc. for my daughter to sell in her Hair Salon in London. I love to chat and to travel.

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No Room at the Inn

Midnight on Christmas eve is magic - a time for ghosts. When the clocks strike twelve they hammer a hole in time and eternity slips silently through.

So I was not really surprised to feel a sudden chill in the room and to see him sitting there opposite me beside the dying fire. He was in his fifties. Shrewd and dark eyes, smooth black hair. All the well-groomed charm of the good hotelier. I had never seen him before but knew immediately, who he was.
"Cold night." I said.

He stretched his hands towards the fire, so real that it was difficult to believe he existed only in my mind. "Very cold." he said. "And I was dog-tired, out on my feet with the beginnings of a migraine". He looked at me quickly. "I'm not making excuses - don't think that - just trying to explain how it was". I nodded, watching him settle more comfortably into the chair. "We were coining money, I'm not denying that". he said. "Some high-grade civil servant with his eye on the New Year's Honors list, dreams up this idea of a census. It's inconvenient, of course. Right in the middle of winter, everything frozen up solid, the roads like glaciers. No time to be trekking round the country to sign on the dotted line in your old home town. But it was money in the bank for us. We're just a small country inn. Nothing fancy, no frills. A friendly welcome, clean beds, good home cooked country fare. Most years we just about break even. But we had more people through the place than we normally get in six months. I'd have been a fool not to cash in on it."  He brooded softly for a moment or two, staring into the  fire. When he looked up his eyes were haunted. "She was a nice little thing with shy, gentle eyes. Very young and very pregnant. Her husband was older. Big chap, a bit rough and ready, with an accent you could hang your hat on. But basically a decent sort. I took to them straight away. If I'd had a room they'd have been more than welcome to it." He leaned forward, his voice suddenly sharp. "And that's the truth." "Of course." I said. "But you were full." "Full?" he said. " You've said it. Shared rooms, beds on the landing - we even had people sleeping on two chairs in the public rooms. Paying through the nose and glad to do it." He shook his head. "He offered me double the going rste. The husband, I mean. But it wasn't a question of money. The way tey wer placed I'd put them up for free. On the house, no problem. There was something about them you don't often see. A kind of innocence. Something - I can't explain it - something different. Special." He smiled, a small, wry, smile. "That's when I should have guessed what it was all about, I suppose. But I didn't." There was a little pause, heavy with regret. I said gently, "So you put them in the stable." He nodded. "It was my wife's idea. I was against it at first. After all, we've got our reputation to think of and sleeping guests in a stable isn't exactly going to get us four star rating is it?" But my wife can be very stubborn and my head was pounding and I was too bushed to argue. "So we took them round the back and settled them in among the horses and the old wagon ox, with a pile of blankets and a bale of clean straw. I'm not saying it was comfortable but at least it was dry and out of the weather. My wife brought them hot soup and a loaf fresh from the oven and they wer grateful." His face tightend. "That's what gets me." He said thickly. "They were so grateful. So damned grateful." He cleared his throat. " Well, we didn't charge them, of course," he said, as if offering a plea of mitigation. "What about the shepherds?" " Yes, well, the shepherds came." he said. "Nothing unusual about that. This time of the year we always leave the back door on the latch and a jug or two of mulled wine on the hob. It's cold work keeping sheep out in the open in winter and the shepherds often come down in twos and threes for a bit of a warm. Take it in turns, you see? But that night they all came together. Just before dawn it was I heard them milling about in the yard and got up to see what the excitement was, and that's when I discovered the baby had been botrn. There must've been about a dozen of them all crowded into the stable just staring at the baby. When  told my wife she was horrified. I wasn't too pleased myself. It's bad enough giving birth on a heap of straw - no doctor, no midwife - without having half the village come barging in on you. Doesn't do a lot for our image either. Not what you'd call good publicity. They usually come very quietly - the shepherds, UI mean. But not that night." "Been at the mulled wine, had they?" I said. "That's what I thought." he said. "But it wasn't that. I wish it had been, but it wasn't. They were - I don't know - frightened out of their wits and at the same time wildy happy. Babbling away about angels and a star and a voice in the sky telling them God had been botrn in my stable. I didn't believe a word of it, of course. Well, who would? I mean, if God decided to get himslef born - and that seemed to me to be pretty unlikely - he'd choose the palace in Jerusalem, wouldn't he? Not my stable. My wife agreed. She reckoned it was just a story the shepherds had made up. A sort of alibi to cover themselves for abandoning the sheep like that. They'd all come, you see. Normally they'd never do that." He shook his head. "But then, later in the week, these three VIPs arrive out of nowhere and ask to see the five-day-old King. I was worried then, all right. Scared, too. Thew were educated men. Scholars." He spread his hands. "Men like that don't make up crazy stories. I was just relieved we had the young family in the hotel by then. Moved them in the day the baby was born. Some people left after breakfast and we switched things round a bit. Best room in the house and still no charge." "A nice gesture." I said "Too little too late," he said. "God came knocking on my door and I turned him away." "An understandable mistake." I said. "In the circumstances. But you made up for it afterwards." He nodded doubtfully. "I just wish  could believe it was enough." "I think He would think so." I said.
Barry appeared at the door. "Are you all right?" he said. "I thought I heard voices, did someone come in?" I looked at the empty chair. "No, I was just talking to myself." "Oh," he said uncertainly, what about?" "Forgiveness."  I said. "Merry Christmas."
 


 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

My Grandson

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

My Son

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

My Daughter

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

My Cat

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

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