Smallville, Kansas - December 1966

It was the end of what had been a tumultuous year for the Kents. Jonathan had spent the first half of the year trying to save the farm. In spite of his best efforts, the farm continued to fail since the death of his parents, and they were on the brink of losing it. Martha's mother had never liked Jonathan and refused to help them keep the farm. Somehow, Jonathan convinced an out of state bank to loan them the money. Having to pay back the loan and continue to make payments on the farm, the Kent's retention of the land was tenuous at best. Somehow, Jonathan managed to make the farm productive enough for them to stay.

Then things seemed to turn around. The joyous news of Martha's pregnancy in June was like an answer to all of the young couple's prayers. Somehow, concerns about the farm seemed unimportant. The Good Lord would provide. Friends and relatives were generous with gifts of baby clothes and soon-to-be-needed supplies. In spite of what had been a rough year financially, the young couple saw it as a turning point.

By mid-October, however, Martha had become despondent, and it seemed that nothing Jonathan could do would cheer her. How could she tell him the truth? Martha wanted so badly to tell him, but every time she started to, the young Mrs. Kent fell to tears. She knew her mother would gloat, and that made Martha avoid the woman like the plague.

On Christmas Eve of 1966, with a tree beautifully decorated and presents from friends and relatives nestled beneath, all for the new baby, Martha wrung her fists and let out a long, mournful cry.

"Honey, what's wrong?" Jonathan ran to her and took her in his arms, kissing her cheek. "It's alright; I'm here."

"It don't matter," she cried as he walked her to the sofa and helped her to a sitting position. "Can't you see?" He looked at her with puzzlement. In response, she looked down at her abdomen. "Look at my tummy, Jonathan—I'm not as big as I should be by now …"

"Some women don't get that large when they're pregnant—"

"I'm not pregnant," she sobbed. "I lost the baby in October … I just couldn't bring myself to tell you." She did not know what her husband would say, but thankfully, Jonathan did not say anything. He just held her. "All the things people keep giving us—I feel so ashamed."

"You shouldn't, Martha. T'ain't your fault, Hon; these things happen."

"That baby was all we ever wanted … I love you, but I wanted to be a mom since I was a little girl. I wish your folks were still alive, Jonathan—they was like a second set of parents to me. My dad woulda been okay, but my mama; she'll have a cow when she finds out! She's already telling me I'm too thin … I think she knows."

"You let me handle your mama, Martha. But don't you need to see a doctor about somethin' like that?"

"I did," she confessed. "I went to another county an' used a different name so nobody'd find out."

He nodded. "We'll try again when you're ready. If we can't have kids, we can adopt—"

"How? Jonathan, we barely have two pennies to rub together! You been amazing keeping this farm goin', but—"

She was interrupted by what sounded like a jet engine overhead. It was soft at first. In seconds, it became so loud that she thought it was going to crash into the house. The walls and even the very floor shook violently. Outside the window, she saw the fireball strike ground.

"Landed in the back forty," Jonathan exclaimed. "Come on, Martha!"

"Come on and what?"

Her husband smiled. "We just had something land on our farm, and ain't nobody but us knows about it. We can discover somethin' before anyone else does! Come on, Martha; let's have an adventure like we used to when we was kids."

For the first time in two months, Martha smiled. This was why she fell in love with Jonathan. She had convinced herself that he would be angry over her losing their baby. Now, she could not understand how such an idea ever made it into her head. He was not the most handsome, or the strongest nor the smartest, but he was her best friend and her partner in everything. In good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, he loved her.

Martha took her husband's hand and he pulled her from the couch. They put on coats and ran out to the truck. The 1954 Ford reluctantly started after several attempts, and in moments, the two were off chasing what was more than likely a meteor. As the truck pulled away from the house, Martha looked in the side view mirror and noticed that the weathervane on their roof was melted to slag.

"Land sakes, Jonathan! That thing must have been mere inches away from the house!"

"Good thing it weren't no lower, or we'd have skylights!" She giggled at his comment, and then he added, "Chasin' a star on Christmas Eve—don't that sound familiar?"

Martha just said, "Mm hmm." Looking out the windshield, she saw the smoldering trench dug by the meteor as it had struck the ground. It had to be almost half an acre long. By the time they got to the crash site, however, it was clear that whatever had landed was no meteor.

"Jonathan—"

"I know, Martha," he said as he stopped the truck and got out.

The object was about twenty feet long and cigar shaped, with fins at its stern. Midway up the fuselage, the craft—and it was indeed a craft—had wings that were melted down to stubs from the landing. All around the trench was burning brush and scorched earth."

"Land sakes, Jonathan! It's a rocket ship!"

"Yeah but look—no markings! Is it one of ours … or is it Russian?" Then he took a few steps closer. "Funny, but it don't have no thrusters, an' it don't look like no rocket I ever saw."

"And just how many rockets have you ever saw, Jonathan?"

Undeterred by Martha's query, Jonathan Kent went to the craft, climbing down into the trench. Martha was alarmed, calling after him, but he carefully walked close, and reached out to touch the vessel.

"Martha, it's cool to the touch." Then his eyes widened. "Martha … I hear a—"

"I hear it too!" The plaintive cry sounded again. "It's a baby!"

The canopy opened all on its own, and Jonathan reached inside and lifted a crying child from the craft. It was wrapped in a colorful red blanket with some kind of gold emblem emblazoned upon it. Jonathan climbed up the side of the trench and handed the baby up to his wife, who leaned forward, arms outstretched.

"Martha, it's a boy!"

She took the baby from her husband, and the child calmed almost immediately. All the little one needed was a mother's touch.

"Land sakes, Jonathan! What kind of monsters would—"

"I don't know, Martha, but it sure ain't one of ours, an' it sure ain't Russian. There's writin' inside—symbols of some kind, an' they ain't nothin' like letters in Russian or English."

"This thing's too advanced to be anyone else's … where do you think—"

Jonathan pointed to the starry sky. "Out there."

Martha looked at the babe in her arms. The child was tiny, a newborn. How could anyone do this to a newborn child? Martha was now filled with resolve. "Jonathan … can we keep him? I mean, we're keeping him … ain't we?"

Jonathan Kent looked around. The night air was still and quiet. No sounds of approaching vehicles or aircraft. Nobody else was even aware.

"Far as anyone else goes, you delivered a baby tonight, Martha. Now let's git this little one back home fast as we can. Git him into the truck while I hook the chains to this rocket-ship so we can git it to the barn an' git it hid."

"Clark Kent," she said.

"Who?"

"Clark Joseph Kent." She smiled. "That's his name, Jonathan. Clark, my maiden name; Joseph, your Pa's name; an' Kent."

Jonathan wrapped his arms around Martha as she held the baby. "He's so tiny, Martha. He's still … goopy too! Land sakes, Martha, he just got born!"

"Terrible! Just terrible! He's ours now, Jonathan. We'll protect him. We'll keep him safe from the world."

"No, Martha," Jonathan said as he looked over at the ship. "This baby … he's a-gonna change the world!"