Free The Gospel According to Jesus Christ (Harvest in Translation) by José Saramago

of Rachel, the bride for whom Jacob waited fourteen years. After seven years' service, he was wedded to Leah and had to wait another seven
years before being allowed to marry his beloved, who would die in Bethlehem giving birth to a son that Jacob named Benjamin, which means son of my right hand, but Rachel, as she lay dying, rightly called him Benoni, which means child of my sorrow, God forbid that this should be an omen. Houses now begin to appear, mud-colored like those of Nazareth, but here in Bethlehem the color of mud is paler, a mixture of yellow and gray. Mary is near collapse, her body slumping farther forward over the saddlebags with each passing moment. Joseph has come to her aid, and she puts one arm around his shoulder to steady herself. What a pity there is no one here to witness this touching scene, which is all too rare. And so they enter Bethlehem.
    Despite Mary's condition, Joseph inquired if there was a caravansary nearby, thinking they might rest until the following morning. Mary was in great pain but still showed no sign of being ready to give birth. But when, on the other side of the village, they reached the caravansary, which was squalid and rowdy, part bazaar and part stable, there was not a quiet corner to be found, even though it was still early and most of the drovers and cameleers would only start arriving later. The couple turned back. Joseph left Mary beneath the shade of a fig tree in a tiny square and went off to consult the elders. There was no one in the synagogue apart from a caretaker, who called out to an urchin playing nearby and told him to accompany the stranger to one of the elders, who might be able to help. Fortune, who protects the innocent whenever she remembers them, decreed that in this latest quest Joseph should pass through the square where he had left his wife, and just in time to save her from the deadly shade of the fig tree, which was slowly killing her, an unforgivable mistake, as fig trees abound in this land and they both should have known better. So, like condemned souls, they set off once more in search of the elder, but he had left for the countryside and was not expected home for some time.
On hearing this, the carpenter summoned his courage and called out, Is there anyone here who for the love of Almighty God will offer shelter to my dear wife, who is about to give birth. All he asked was a quiet corner, they had brought their own mats. And could anyone tell him where to find a midwife in the village who could assist with the birth. Poor Joseph blushed to hear himself blurt out these private worries and concerns. The female slave standing in the doorway went back inside to report to her mistress, and reappeared after a while to tell them that they could not stay there and must look for shelter elsewhere. Since there was little chance of finding a place in the village, her mistress suggested they take refuge in one of the many caves in the nearby slopes. And what about a midwife, asked Joseph, whereupon the slave replied that if her mistress agreed and he wished, she herself could help, for she had been in service all her life and had assisted at many a birth. These are cruel times indeed, when a pregnant woman comes knocking at our door and we deny her shelter in a corner of the yard and send her off to give birth in a cave, like the bears and wolves. Something pricked our conscience, however, and, getting up from where we were sitting, we went to the door to see for ourselves this husband and wife who so desperately needed a roof over their heads. The sadness in that poor girl's face was enough to arouse our maternal instinct, so we patiently explained why we could not possibly take them in, the house was already crowded with sons and daughters, grandchildren, in-laws. As you can see, there simply isn't any room here, but our slave will take you to a cave we use as a stable. There are no animals there at present, and you should be able to make yourselves