Nothing about my life has been what I planned. I married a man a lot older than me, but we actually fell in love. He ran a busy inn right in the middle of one of the Roman tax centers. You might know of it -- Bethlehem? Anyway, we were happy for a couple of years. Then my husband died. It about killed me. I decided that love was not for me, and I've managed fairly well without it. Wished we'd had a child, though. At least I still had the inn.

That one year at tax time there were extra crowds because of the comet everybody was coming to gawk at. I was full up, every room. One night, about the time I was going to bed, I hear a banging on the door. There stands this grimy, worn-out looking young man, says he wants a room.

"There ain't a room in this whole town, mister, lots of luck." I look…