Today we went to Bethlehem and visited the Milk Grotto, a place I had never heard of. The story goes that the Holy Family lived here for a short while after Jesus was born. They hid in this place before their flight to Egypt, when Herod was ordering all of the boys two and under to be killed. While Mary was nursing Jesus, some drops of milk fell on the stone, turning it white.
The cynical part of me can imagine the Crusaders dreaming up the milk grotto as a marketing ploy to lure pilgrims.
But regardless, Mary would have nursed Jesus. Such an intimate act between mother and child, Mary using her body to feed Jesus, as he would do for everyone.
Mary knew from being around other babies in Nazareth that many of them were fussy. Jesus was not and eagerly attached to her. For this she was grateful. It had been a hard delivery in that cave with only straw to cushion the birth and only Joseph to attend. He was calm, that husband of hers, another blessing. Now she was fully healed from the birth.
Some other people seemed to know something of Gabriel's visit to Mary, that her child was blessed, a baby among babies. They would stop and look in on her with awe in their eyes, the shepherds among them. They would come in and bow to the baby. One day some shepherds brought a gift of a lamb to the family. Another day, three fancily dressed men from places unknown brought exotic and valuable gifts. The gold would finance their safe passage to Egypt. These kind but strange-looking men didn't speak Aramaic. But they pointed up, many times. to the darkened sky with the new brilliant star that Mary had grown fond of. It was a beacon of heavenly protection. At least for now.
No comments:
Post a Comment