I was headed home for Christmas. In December 1975, I had been laid off from my job in Northern Alberta, along with what seemed like half the community. 

On the spur of the moment and using most of my meager supply of cash, I hopped on a Greyhound bus. It was a seven-hour ride to Edmonton, then a several-hour layover, followed by a milk run that took another five hours or so to Fox Creek. In those days, the bus stopped at every community and often at spots in the middle of nowhere for anyone who flagged it down.

The bus rolled into the downtown station around 1 AM. It was as dark and cold as an Alberta winter morning can be, and no businesses were open. I grabbed a cup of vending machine coffee, every bit as awful as you imagine, and sat down to wait. The place was pretty much deserted.

A pair of drunks sat off in one corner, sharing something from a brown bag. An ancient-looking janitor was half heartedly mopping the floor. A young teenage girl sat cowering in a corner, clutching a backpack, and there was me, barely 18.

I nursed the coffee for a long time while several buses came and went. The drunks left, and the janitor finished and left as well. Finally, out of boredom, loneliness, and desperation, I walked over and said hi to the girl.

We chatted a bit, and I asked her where she was going. She told me that she didn’t know, but as far as $113.00 would take her. She was 14, pregnant, and had been dumped by her so-called boyfriend when she told him the news. She was terrified to go home and face her parents. She had no plan except to run away as far as possible.

That scene has played out countless times in every corner of the globe for millennia. In this case, the story is fictionalized to a degree; I was far to shy to go over and talk to the girl at the station. She caught a bus to some unknown destination about an hour after I arrived. I did have a sense that she was running away.

It came to mind when the pastor preached yesterday.

In the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent from God to a city of Galilee named Nazareth, to a virgin betrothed to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David. And the virgin’s name was Mary. And he came to her and said, “Greetings, O favored one, the Lord is with you!”But she was greatly troubled at the saying, and tried to discern what sort of greeting this might be. And the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. And behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. And the Lord God will give to him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.” And Mary said to the angel, “How will this be, since I am a virgin?” And the angel answered her, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born[e] will be called holy—the Son of God. And behold, your relative Elizabeth in her old age has also conceived a son, and this is the sixth month with her who was called barren. Luke 1:26-36 ESV

Mary, a young virgin, was about to be pregnant. She could have faced the same rejection or worse as the girl at the bus stop that early morning many years ago.

She didn’t hesitate. She stepped out in faith and accepted the Lord’s plan for her despite the risks.

In our prayers this Christmas, let us remember the blessing of the incarnate Christ and Mary’s courageous faith. Let’s also remember all the frightened girls (and women) who find themselves pregnant and alone. They’re not carrying the future Messiah, but they are in need of love, comfort, and hope.

Be blessed

Hallelu Yah / Praise God 

Kevin