Sunday, December 14, 2014

Sunday Reflection...

I first heard the true story, "Trouble at the Inn" several years ago.  It moved me to tears then, and it still has the same effect on me today.  The boy's name is Wallace Purling, from a small Midwest town in the United States. Though mentally and physically challenged, he grasped the true meaning of Christmas.  

This post is longer than my usual Sunday Reflection, but it's worth the time to read it. It's based on The Birth of Jesus recorded in Luke 2:6-7  "While they were there [Bethlehem], the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son.  She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn."

"Trouble at the Inn"

Wally was nine that year [1966] and in the second grade, though he should have been in the fourth. Most people in town knew that he had difficulty keeping up. He was big and awkward, slow in movement and mind.

Still, Wally was well liked by the other children in his class, all of whom were smaller than he, though the boys had trouble hiding their irritation when Wally would ask to play ball with them or any game, for that matter, in which winning was important.

They'd find a way to keep him out, but Wally would hang around anyway -- not sulking, just hoping.  He was a helpful boy, always willing and smiling, and the protector of the underdog. If the older boys chased the younger ones away, it would be Wally who'd say, "Can't they stay? They're no bother."

And so it happened that the usual large, supportive audience gathered for the town's yearly extravaganza of crooks and creches, of beards, crowns, halos, and a whole stageful of squeaky voices.

No one on stage or off was more caught up in the magic of the night than Wallace Purling. They said later that he stood in the wings and watched the performance with such fascination that Miss Lumbard had to make sure he didn't wander on stage before his cue.

Then the time came when Joseph appeared, slowly, tenderly guiding Mary to the door of the inn. Joseph knocked hard on the wooden door set into the painted backdrop.  Wally the innkeeper was there waiting.  

"What do you want?"  Wally said, swinging the door open with a brusque gesture.

"We seek lodging."

"Seek it elsewhere."  Wally spoke vigorously.  "The inn is filled."

"Sir, we have asked everywhere in vain.  We have traveled far and are very weary."

"There is no room in this inn for you."  Wally looked properly stern.

"Please, good innkeeper, this is my wife, Mary.  She is heavy with child and needs a place to rest.  Surely you must have some small corner for her.  She is so tired."

Now, for the first time, the innkeeper relaxed his stiff stance and looked down at Mary. With that, there was a long pause, long enough to make the audience a bit tense with embarrassment.

"No!  Begone!"  the prompter whispered.

"No!"  Wally repeated automatically.  "Begone!"

Joseph sadly placed his arm around Mary, and Mary laid her head upon her husband's shoulder and the two of them started to move away.  The innkeeper did not return inside his inn, however. Wally stood there in the doorway, watching the forlorn couple.  His mouth was open, his brow creased with concern, his eyes filling unmistakably with tears.

And suddenly this Christmas pageant became different from all others.

"Don't go, Joseph," Wally called out.  "Bring Mary back."  And Wallace Purling's face grew into a bright smile.  "You can have my room."

*  *  *

I so want there to be room in my heart for Jesus at Christmastime, and throughout the rest of the year as well. 

May God bless your week!


  1. I love that story, thank you for posting it. I had read it a year or two ago but it was good to read it again.

  2. What a sweet story! I've never heard this before, and I can see why you like it. It's got a great message for this time of year -- or any time, for that matter!


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