The Birth of Jesus

An angel comes to Mary

In a tiny town called Nazareth, there lived a young woman named Mary. She loved God. She was getting ready to marry a kind man named Joseph. Her life was small and ordinary and quiet.

Until one day God sent an angel to her front room. His name was Gabriel, and his message would change the whole world.

Mary's eyes went wide. "Me? But how can this be?"

Gabriel smiled. "The Holy Spirit will come over you. Your baby will be the Son of God."

Mary bowed her head. "I am the Lord's servant," she said. "Let it be to me as you have said."

The long road to Bethlehem

A few months later, the king who ruled their land — Caesar Augustus — said that every family had to travel back to the town their great-great-grandparents came from, to be counted in a census. Joseph's family came from a little town called Bethlehem. So Mary and Joseph had to go.

It was a long, long way. Day after day they walked. Mary rode on a little donkey, her hand resting on her round tummy. The road was dusty. The hills were steep. The sun was hot. And the baby inside her was getting ready to be born.

No room at the inn

When at last they reached Bethlehem, the little town was packed. Everyone had come for the census. Every house was full. Every inn was full. Joseph knocked on door after door after door — shaking his head each time he came back to Mary.

One innkeeper looked at Mary, then looked at his crowded inn, then looked at his little stable around the side. The animals were in there. There was clean hay. There was a manger — a wooden box where the cows ate their food. It wasn't a palace. But it was a roof. He offered it to them, and they said yes.

That very night, in that quiet little stable, Mary's baby was born.

Mary wrapped Him up in soft cloths, like a tiny present, and laid Him gently in the manger on the sweet-smelling hay. The donkey blinked. The sheep nuzzled close. And the King of all kings — the Lord of all lords — fell fast asleep on hay, in a feeding trough, in a little stable, in a little town, in the middle of the night.

Angels and shepherds

Out on the hills near Bethlehem, some shepherds were watching their sheep in the dark. They had wooden staffs and warm cloaks and a little fire. They were sleepy.

Suddenly the sky burst open with light. An angel stood in front of them, glowing bright as the sun. The shepherds covered their eyes. They were terrified. But the angel's voice was warm and kind.

"You will find Him," the angel said, "wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger."

And then — WOW — the whole sky filled up with angels. Thousands and thousands of them. The shepherds sat with their mouths hanging open. And all the angels began to sing.

The angels sang and sang and sang. And then, like a curtain, the sky closed back up, and the night was quiet again. The shepherds looked at each other. They didn't even pack up. They just ran down the hill into Bethlehem.

They peeked into the little stable. And there, just as the angel had said, was a baby. Wrapped in cloths. Lying in a manger. Mary's tiny boy. God's tiny Son.

The shepherds fell on their knees. They told Mary and Joseph everything the angels had sung. Then they ran back into the village telling anyone who would listen.

That night, the world was forever changed. Heaven came down to earth. The Savior had been born. And He had come as a baby — small enough to hold, close enough to love.