Joseph's thoughts were of a different genus. He was not caught up in the rapture of fatherhood. His musing took a more practical direction. He had protected Mary from the awful news of Herod's slaughter of the male babies in Bethlehem. How many had there been? He did some mental calculation. It could not have been more than fifteen or twenty children, he thought. This does not make it more acceptable, nor does it ease the horror of the event in the least. But that beast of a monarch could just have easily included the whole of Jerusalem.

Joseph had labored hard through the day in the shipyards of the Nile. Building ships did not tax his skills as much as creating wooden furniture for the homes of the wealthy, but it brought in an income. While he still had the wealth of the gifts of the Magi, he did not want to squander it by not working when there was work to be had. So, he worked and at night, he joined Mary and the child in the home where they stayed, exhausted but feeling good. Life here was not unpleasant. Sated with wine and good food, sleep came easily and sweet. The Egyptian night crept into wee hours. The moon slid down the western sky and disappeared into the horizon.

"Joseph." A familiar voice. In the periphery of his consciousness, he knew what was happening.

"Joseph, it is time. He who sought the young child's life is dead. Arise, and return to your homeland."

It was as simple as that. He did not get up immediately. He lapsed into a deeper slumber and did not open his eyes until the day was several hours old. Mary and the babe were still asleep. His place at the shipyards would be empty that day. There would be no pay. It didn't matter. Gently he stroked his wife's hair until she smiled and fluttered her eyes. They were a deep, sapphire blue. Joseph's were brown, his skin tawny, his face handsome, ruddy and well defined, his beard well groomed. She reached for him, wetting his hairy chest with her milk.

An angel, unseen in the shadows, smiled.

Joseph was not a man given to anxiety. As the family neared Bethlehem, however, a feeling of foreboding fell over him. His purpose had been to settle there with his friend, Hermas ben David. He had been born in Bethlehem, he had registered there, he had hoped to build his business there instead of Nazareth where his father worked. There would not be enough business in Nazareth to sustain them both. It was much too economically deprived. His lips crinkled into a caustic smile when he remembered the popular slur, "Can any good thing come out of Nazareth?" Yet, how could he return to Bethlehem now? After what Herod had done? It seemed impossible.

The son of Herod the Great, one Archelaus, now rules in Judea. He is no less a tyrant than his father. It was well known that of all of the sons of Herod the Great, the character and temperament of Archelaus was most like that of his bestial father. Like his father, he was hated by the Romans; yet unlike his father, he held far less power. Later the Romans would depose him, banish him and place their own procurators in power. Joseph feared that Archelaus would attempt to continue the slaughter of children that his father had initiated. Bethlehem was no longer an option. He must lay his hopes and dreams aside for now. The safety and protection of his family preempted all else. That night as he dreamed, his decision was confirmed by the whispers of an angel.

When he reached the borders of Bethlehem, he did not stop. Nor did he stop in the great city of Jerusalem, nor Jericho. Up the eastern banks of the Jordan, they traveled all the way to Galilee and ultimately back to Nazareth. Joseph, Mary and the child were home.

In Nazareth, with the funds provided by the Magi and that of his trade, Joseph could afford a home larger than that he would have had in Bethlehem. Jesus, nearing four years old, bounced about the rooms with abandon. As the weeks, months and years passed, his little body changed into that of a small boy. He became stronger and seemed wiser and brighter than others his age. It was thought by his neighbors and family that he basked in the radiance of God's favor. There was little doubt that he was a special child.