Come on in and have a seat. Don’t say any-thing more until you’ve heard my side of the story.
        Now, now, don’t give me that look. I didn’t know about Him at the time. It’s not my fault em-peror Augustus wanted all those people in town for the census. You would think that the emperor could have gathered enough men to count every-body in their hometowns. He could have given them a fancy name like Polltaker or something.
        If I had known what was going to happen that night, I would have given Joe and Mary my room; they seemed like such good kids.
        I didn’t really think they’d take my offer to stay in the barn, not with Mary being pregnant and all. How was I to know mine was the last place they tried?
        Of course, the animals tell me once a year about everything that happened. Especially the rooster. Oh, boy, can that rooster talk. There’s no shutting him up.
        That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? You’ve heard that once a year the animals around here can talk.
        Well, it’s true. They do. Talk, that is. Espe-cially the rooster.
        Oh, I’ve heard there’s rumors going around about how all animals can talk on this night. But your dog doesn’t talk to you, tell you when he’s hungry, and your cows don’t tell you when they
want to be milked. They never do, do they? Not

 with words anyway.
        Well, mine don’t either. Except today. Espe-cially the rooster.
        Why, that rooster will sit on my windowsill tonight, and tell me the whole story. About how shepherds came in from their flocks after an angel told them about His birth. About how three as-trologers from the east had learned about His arri-val from the stars and brought gifts of gold, frank-incense, and myrrh with them.
        Every year the rooster says, “You’re right. I’m sorry to have kept you awake all night.”
        I guess it’s true that birds do have small brains. Because by next year that rooster will re-peat the whole story word-for-word, forgetting all about how sorry he was to keep me awake this year.
        Now I got to tell you something I don’t really want to tell you. With the news spreading about how the animals here will speak tonight, tourism in Bethlehem is booming.
        Yep, that’s right, there’s no room in my inn. But if you want to relive history, there’s plenty of room in my barn.
        And if you ask the animals politely, they’ll tell you their side of the story.
        Especially the rooster.
   
     
*Reprinted from Flash Me Magazine, Vol. 1, No. 1.