Our family raises lab puppies. One year we were lucky enough to be selling a litter near the Christmas season.

When a certain city buyer came to pick out his present, he commented on the surrounding scenery. "This farm has to be the most peaceful place to celebrate Christmas!"

Peaceful?

I was tempted to tell him just how peace-breaking our Christmas can be.

I've always envied people who get lengthy vacations to leisurely celebrate holidays. Not being interrupted by hungry calves and bawling cows on Christmas morning seems heavenly. Unfortunately, Christmas doesn't allow the cycle of farm work to momentarily stop. So unlike nonfarm families, farmers have to squeeze the Christmas craze in between regular chores. The animals still need to be milked, fed and checked for birthing.

I remember one Christmas day, three calves were born. I don't recall "peaceful" being the adjective I used while feeding them. And when I think about it, Bethlehem wasn't exactly a peace-haven on that first Christmas. Between the shoving shoppers in the marketplace and the tired and angry travelers, it's possible that Joseph and Mary were relieved to see that barn on the hillside. Perhaps they saw the tranquility and quietness as a gift, as opposed to the jabbing elbows in town.

I'm sure the stable had its times.

Maybe the sheep were nervous. Or the ornery calf wouldn't stop bawling and the donkey wouldn't give up his corner in the stable. But I am confident God knew what he was doing. He wanted Christ to be born where a star-dusted sky could be seen, the stillness of the stable be heard, and the presence of a Prince be felt.

Thankfully, the Prince of Peace is not limited to a stable on the hillside. He can be found in any home in any culture. At anytime.

Now I see that certain puppy buyer was right. My family and I are fortunate to celebrate Christmas on the farm. It is a small taste of what Joseph and Mary experienced on that Peace-born night.