Bethlehem Barn: A Christmas Story

Laurie J. Schmitt introduces Debra Westgate-Silva's picture book that retells the Christmas story from the perspective of the animals at the manger.

God, Creator of the cool, the chilly, the downright cold, blessed this brisk Kansas morning with a wide blue sky. Blustery winds ripped at coats and caps. I wrapped my scarf around my ears as a friend of mine, a homestead farmer, shooed his few cows out to pasture after morning milking. They mooed, all nonchalant, while plodding their way down the worn path to the paddock where wooly sheep watched and a few horses whinnied at their coming.

“What took you so long?” they seemed to ask. Chickens cackling around the corner of the lean-to, heckled the turkeys about the seasonal holidays ahead, but to no avail. The gobblers ruffled up their feathers, squared their stance and argued back, so proud of their prized role in the feasts.

What if the stable animals could talk? What would they say? Bethlehem Barn, an extra-special Christmas story for children, is written as if they could.

Bethlehem Barn cover higher res

In Bethlehem Barn, Debra Westgate-Silva weaves a wonderful tale around the first Christmas, wherein baby Jesus is found asleep in a manger. The cow is moved to utter a few things and pose a few questions. All of the animals in turn share their quips and comments, setting out to make baby Jesus comfortable. They kneel in humble adoration.

The story, told from the animal’s perspective, makes this a must-have story for your probably already stacked high and wide Christmas books for children. Bethlehem Barn—not your typical Christmas story—especially plays with the idea of what the animals may have been thinking about the special event. All creation rejoiced at Christ’s birth, and I'm guessing that the animals in the stable had their own way of wonderment.

My favorite parts? Who can resist a sheep that resembles a fluff of blue cotton candy and bleats for peace. Or a scatter-brained chicken who frantically cackles, “Are my eggs in there? Where are my eggs? Someone keeps moving my eggs!!” Or the donkey who finally gets to tell his story of how he carried the family. All the while, Mother Mary lies curled up in the hay.

My friend’s farm to table operation, sounding out the glory of living simply, of loving completely, brings me to the Christmas stable. A place like this is where baby Jesus, God’s only Son, was born: in a barn full of simple-headed, good-hearted, smelly beasts. Are we that much different? The people He came to save? Dumb for sure; not always so good-hearted; steeped in the stench of sin, no doubt.

“A baby!” Donkey says. “Can we keep Him?”

Yes, in our hearts, in our lives, all day, every day of the year. Yes, He is the one. May He bless our simple barns, our wholesome hard work. May our homes be holy places where His love can grow.

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