It was December 24th in Jerusalem. The streets were quiet, and there was a sense of peace in the air. We volunteers were getting ready to go to Bethlehem after having dinner at Notre Dame with the whole community. Bethlehem is just over half an hour away, and on the way we prayed joyfully, without imagining what we would experience that night. Our plan was to attend the Christmas Mass with the Patriarch of Jerusalem.

When we arrived, we saw a lot of movement. Finding a place to park was difficult, and as soon as we got out of the car, we noticed that pilgrims were already entering the Basilica of the Nativity. When we reached the place where the Mass would take place, we realized there were no seats left. It was then that, together with another volunteer, I felt a nudge to go to the grotto before the celebration began. We didn’t know if it would be open, but we decided to try anyway.

We asked several people, and they told us that we could indeed go in. Getting there wasn’t easy because the usual entrances were closed, but we eventually managed to pass through. When we entered, we were met with a beautiful surprise: there was space, silence, an atmosphere that felt as if it had been waiting for us. We sat right in front of the grotto. At that moment, I understood that this place had been reserved for us. It was hard to believe… to be there, on Christmas, in front of the very place where Jesus was born.

The pilgrims inside were praying; some were singing lullabies to the Baby Jesus. There was a spirit of reverence that embraced us all. As we remained there, I couldn’t help but imagine and contemplate the moment of Jesus’ birth — the cold night, the murmur of the animals, the silence that announced the Messiah. A God so small, inviting me simply to look at Him and be with Him. During the time we spent praying, I felt Mary very close, offering me her Son so I could hold Him, contemplate Him, and praise Him. That helpless Child asked for nothing, only my presence.

We spent several hours in the grotto, praying and singing, while more and more pilgrims arrived until no one else could fit inside. And yet, even then, that peace remained, as if it didn’t want to leave.

Today, when I remember that night, I feel that the inspiration to go down to the grotto was an invitation from the Baby Jesus: “Come, stay with me for a while.” And that is exactly what we did. We kept vigil with Him, received Him, and praised Him.

This has been one of the most beautiful experiences I have lived as a volunteer during my two years with Magdala. And this Christmas, that same Child who became small to be with me continues to wait for me and invites me to keep contemplating Him and simply loving Him.

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