The Young Shepherd watched as his uncle carefully selected two sheep to trade with the merchant. The boy was saddened to see that the two best looking sheep were chosen—including his favorite lamb.
“These are two of the finest I have,” the elder shepherd told the merchant as the two parties faced one another at the edge of the merchant’s town late that evening.
“They will do fine,” responded the merchant, who turned to motion to one of his party to bring over a small wagon with modest food supplies consisting of fruits, vegetables, and mostly grain. The young shepherd watched as the food was wheeled over by a boy about his own age. He could see that this boy’s clothes and sandals were finer than his own. In fact, every member of the merchant’s party was dressed finer than the boy, his uncle, and the other two shepherds with them.
The young shepherd didn’t know why he noticed such things, but he did. He looked away, disappointed in his uncle, but understanding that these trades were part of the purpose of this excursion and a necessity for them.
The trading parties went their separate ways and the young shepherd couldn’t help but glance back at the merchant as he watched the ewe and his favorite young lamb, both with ropes gently placed around them to ensure they would follow the merchant back to his village.
The young shepherd felt a sadness tighten his throat. They’re just sheep, he tried telling himself. He reminded himself not to care so much for the animals. He didn’t want to be a shepherd anyway.
As they made their way to where they would camp for the night, the uncle read the young shepherd’s mind and broke the silence.
“I am sorry for trading the lamb, my boy. I know you had affection for him,” His uncle said.
“It’s fine, Uncle. They’re just sheep and we received much grain for them,” the boy replied.
The young shepherd tried his best to look apathetic. He could tell his uncle was watching him for a moment. His uncle continued, “Well, they are just sheep. But they’re our sheep. Truth is, I’m always a bit sad when I part with any of them.”
They approached the clearing where they would set up camp for the night. The young shepherd pulled his wool blanket over his legs as he leaned back against a large tree. He stared up at the sky which was bathed in stars without a single cloud to obscure.
He pondered on his uncle’s words about his sadness in parting with their sheep. He knew it was sincere. His uncle was the most genuine man he’d ever known. The young shepherd’s own father had passed when he was an infant. His mother raised him in the same village where his uncle, her younger brother, and their family lived. When the young shepherd was seven years old, he and his mother became ill. He would recover. His mother would not.
The young shepherd could still remember lying on his mother’s lap, sweating as the two endured fevers together. His state had begun to improve while hers rapidly worsened.
“Your aunt and uncle have done much for us, my child,” his mother had weakly whispered, “They promise to care for you as their own.”
The young shepherd remembered well how tears endlessly streamed that night all those years ago. He would repeat in his mind daily the final words his mother spoke:
“You will find my love in theirs as you grow. God bless you to find it in all that you do.”
As he stared at the stars he even remembered the taste of the salt on his tears as they rolled into his lips the night his mother passed, a reminder of the bitterness and heartache he’d experienced at such a tender age. Still, he treasured each memory he had of her, even this one. He’d only wished there were more to draw from.
His aunt and uncle were as gracious as his mother had promised. Still, it was hard for the young boy, who longed for a father he couldn’t remember and the mother he revered. The aunt and uncle were young and had no children at the time of the boy’s mother’s passing. They would raise him as their own, and later give birth to a daughter who was now four years old. The boy considered her his sister.
The young shepherd lived a thoughtful childhood. He loved his aunt and uncle, and knew of their affection for him. Still, he made an effort to remind himself they were not his parents. He learned to love the village he lived in. He found signs of his mother’s love much easier when he was younger. But as he matured and life grew more complex, it began to be more and more difficult for the boy.
His uncle was unfailingly kind and enjoyed his life as a shepherd and was well respected among others in the sometimes-lowly trade. The uncle knew his sheep well and on occasion was even asked by priests in the region to select lambs for sacrifice: an honor for a shepherd. Still, the boy longed for another path.
The young shepherd found that the older he grew, the more he compared his uncle to a father he never knew—a father he had built up in his mind to be a faultless man above reproach. My father wasn’t a shepherd, and I can’t be expected to be one either, he often thought to himself. On occasion, the young shepherd allowed some well-hidden bitterness of his circumstances to fester, though he tried to ignore it.
The boy found shepherding mundane and felt it required far too much care for what he felt were unintelligent animals that offered little in return. His uncle taught him the ways of shepherding in earnest and the boy was a quick study. Still, he found that his learning was out of duty and respect for his uncle, not out of any satisfaction with the trade. He reminded himself that his uncle was not his father; perhaps their paths weren’t meant to be shared.
The boy enjoyed art and working with his hands, something shepherding did not afford him. He had a friend in the village whose father was a wood carver. When he was about ten, the man taught the boy some basic skills. As the young shepherd grew and practiced he became quite capable. On this and other treks he would awaken early and find a quiet place to carve small animals that he would give to his sister and other young children in the village each time they returned home. He was nearly finished with a camel he had been working on during this particular journey.
As he leaned back and studied at the sky, the young shepherd remembered that, on this night, he was to take the first watch. This journey was the first time his uncle allowed him to to take his turn as watch. He would alternate with his uncle and the other two shepherds—men who were experienced herders and cousins to the young shepherd’s aunt.
His uncle stayed up with him the first time, then allowed his nephew to do it himself the second time, though only for one uneventful hour. The young shepherd found the responsibility tedious. He had never seen predators or robbers at night. This night would be his third try, and his uncle would allow him to do it alone for the full turn: roughly three hours.
As the boy looked out at their flock and watched the older shepherds settle into their sleep, his mind began to finally settle down. To keep himself awake, he took out the wooden camel and began to carve details around the legs and hooves as he finished its final touches.
His uncle told him the watch was easiest if he remained on his feet, as sitting down can lead quickly to a deep slumber. The young shepherd had assured him that all he would need would be a wood carving project and he’d stay awake easily.
This camel is just about the only thing that isn’t dull this night, the young shepherd thought to himself as he held the finished product up in front of his eyes to the light of the moon.
He decided at this very moment that he would tell his uncle in the morning that he desired some time away from shepherding. He reviewed the conversation in his mind again and again, imagining his uncle’s response. When he was tired of this, he thought about the next animal he would carve for his little sister. He thought of the lamb he’d had affection for and parted with earlier that day.
I should like to carve her such a lamb, he thought, 'the one who was lost'. His eyes grew increasingly heavy as he fought to stay awake. It was no use. The only eyes keeping watch over the sheep on this night were now fast asleep.
The Carpenter
The man’s name was Joseph. As a young man of marrying age, he had been betrothed to a beautiful young woman named Mary. Their parents had come to an agreement, and the two were set for a modest wedding ceremony in the not-too-distant future.
Joseph had friends and family he had seen enter into similarly arranged marriages, and they seemed well enough. Some of the men he observed, it was clear, put forth great effort in learning to have even a semblance of affection for their young brides. Others might as well have chosen their brides themselves, as it appeared that affection and love came easily in their marriages. Still, all the pairs he knew respected their families and their traditions. Joseph found Mary’s beauty and demeanor breathtaking, and he hoped theirs would be an easy transition and a union of love.
His father had taught him carpentry at a young age. Joseph had strong and calloused hands—a result of many hours spent in their family shop in a city called Nazareth, working and sweating in a trade he enjoyed.
As his wedding to Mary approached, he found that the time spent in his wood shop was a time for quiet meditation and preparation for the life he and his new wife would create. He treasured the time alone, but smiled when he imagined the future evenings the young couple would spend there together, discussing dreams and the children they would have and experiences they would share. This made him happy.
Joseph hadn’t seen Mary out and about in a few months. He heard that she had gone to be with her cousin Elizabeth, who was old enough to be her grandmother, but with whom Mary had always been close. Elizabeth was miraculously expecting a child. Mary’s absence didn’t much affect Joseph as it was uncommon for betrothed couples to see each other before a wedding, much less interact.
One morning as he approached his shop, Joseph was surprised to see Mary and a female relative waiting outside the door. His heart jumped and he wondered what would cause her to take such an unusual and deliberate effort to speak with him. As he stepped toward them, Joseph could see a seriousness in her beautiful gaze. She carried a glow about her but was clearly weighed down by something.
She motioned for the woman with her to give them a bit of space. The woman stepped across the street, leaving Mary and Joseph alone on the street outside his shop to speak. This was highly uncommon for the time and customs. Joseph felt his throat tighten.
“Shalom aleichem,” He greeted her, bowing his head toward Mary respectfully.
“Shalom aleichem,” she responded, smiling faintly.
“Are you well?” he asked her.
“I am,” Mary responded, pausing, “Joseph, there is something I must share with you...”
Joseph swallowed hard, “Anything.”
“I... I am...” She paused as Joseph’s mind raced. “Joseph, I have seen an angel of God, and I... I am...” she took a deep breath, “I am with child in the most miraculous way,” she finished, looking up at him in earnest as he saw her hands rest on the front of her robes over her stomach.
Joseph felt the world around him begin to spin. He was dumbfounded. His mind swirled in confusion and worry as he scrambled for a possible explanation.
Mary, knowing the overwhelming nature of her news, spoke again. “I should like to share my experience with you. I expect this is so very much to receive,” Mary said stepping toward him.
Joseph stepped back.
“I uh... it is indeed... Mary... I can’t... I don’t understand,” he whispered, as his voice cracked. His face felt warm and tears forming in his eyes.
“Joseph, I shouldn’t expect this all to be clear right now. I’m still coming to understand it myself. But from the depths of my heart, I promise you, this is from God,” she told him, matching his tears with her own, “I have prayed without ceasing that our Lord would show you as He has shown me. This is not of man, but of Heaven.”
Joseph braced himself against the shop door with one hand, as he wiped the tears beginning to fall down his cheeks with the other. His breathing was heavy, as was his heart.
“Mary, this is...” He could feel his strong hands shaking, “Please pardon me as I need some time to ponder...” he fumbled at the handle to his shop, knowing he needed to go inside or he might collapse on the street.
“I understand. I will be ready to speak when you are. God be with you, Joseph,” she told him.
He looked up at her to see a tenderness in her dark, kind eyes.
“Shalom,” he whispered, as he turned to enter his shop.
Asleep
The young shepherd was startled awake by his uncle hastily loading a mule.
“Uncle?” he said, sitting up quickly. He was immediately flooded with embarrassment at his inability to keep from sleeping.
“Last night brought predators,” his uncle told him while climbing up on the mule, “One of the sheep is dead and another two are missing.”
The young shepherd felt his heart sink as it began to beat faster. He looked around to find the other two shepherds were still asleep by the fire.
“Uncle, I’m sorry, I hadn’t meant to...”
“Please stay here and keep watch on the others while I go out to search for them.”
The young shepherd nodded.
He watched as his uncle disappeared over the horizon, the moon shining overhead. An immense disappointment settled on the young shepherd. How could I have been so careless? If I’d only just stood on my feet as he’d asked, he thought.
A few of the sheep bleated and moved about at the commotion. The boy watched for an hour before one of the other shepherds awoke and came to take watch. As the young shepherd explained his failure, the older shepherd frowned under his dark beard and shook his head emphatically in disapproval, interrupting the boy.
“You’re too young for night-watch,” he told the young shepherd in a deep and freshly awoken voice, “You’re just a child doing childish things!” he said, gesturing to the ground next to the shepherd where the camel and knife lay.
The young shepherd felt his face grow red.
“It wasn’t...” the boy began.
“Never mind then, go take your rest. No need for both of us to miss out on sleep,” The older shepherd told him coldly.
As the young shepherd made his way to where he would sleep, he knew that rest would be impossible. He stared at the embers of the fire as he wallowed in defeat. When the uncle returned, the boy sat up and approached the mule which was carrying his uncle and a
small lamb.
“Please take this one to the others,” his uncle told him.
The young shepherd took the lamb in his arms.
“Was this the only one?” he asked, voice shaken, already knowing the answer.
“Yes. The other suffered the same fate as the first, I’m afraid.”
The boy’s heart sank deeper.
“Uncle...” he stammered, “I am truly sorry for my failure.”
The uncle did not reply at once but finished unloading the mule and tying the animal up.
Finally, he turned to the young shepherd and rested his hand on the boy’s shoulder—the young shepherd still carrying the lamb.
“My boy. I needn’t review the seriousness of this night's events,” his uncle said, “the heaviness you feel in yourself is surely demonstrating their importance.”
The young shepherd nodded. His uncle squeezed his shoulder gently.
“God gives us the ability to feel sorrow in our misdeeds, only to encourage us to seek out light from otherwise dark experiences. Mistakes—particularly in an instance such as this, absent of evil intent—are merely opportunities for growth and teaching.”
The boy studied the warmth in his uncle’s eyes as the man continued.
“If God doesn’t hang my misdeeds over my head, why would I ever do so to you?” The uncle smiled gently and patted the young shepherd’s shoulder and walked back to where he had been sleeping.
As the boy turned to carry the lamb back to the flock, he noticed the dark bearded shepherd standing watch had witnessed the interaction. The young shepherd felt embarrassed and looked away as he walked. The shepherd standing watch cleared his throat and the boy looked back his way. The man nodded to the boy. The boy, taking a bit of encouragement, nodded back to the older shepherd.
As he set the young lamb down next to the flock, the young boy studied its face and decided he would base his carving on this lamb instead. The one who was found, he thought.
Fear Not
In the days that followed Mary’s visit, Joseph failed to find a single restful night. He toiled again and again over what she had told him.
How could such news come from God, he wondered. His mind was constantly listless and troubled.
Mary had always carried an aura of light and purity about her. The most indelible memory he had from that night outside his shop—and perhaps the very reason he was so deeply conflicted—was that Mary’s countenance and presence had never seemed more profound than the night she told him.
Still, he was a man of obedience, a man taught from his youth to strictly adhere to the law. He knew that marrying after she was with child was not the way. He thought of the potential public repercussions--agonizing over what they might do to her, should they ever find out what he knew. Her very life was at risk.
He shuddered at the thought.
I must protect her while respecting the law, he concluded late one evening as he worked in his shop, It can be done privily and without any physical harm to her. I’ll be sure of it.
He laid down his tools and sat on a bench covered in sawdust as he pondered how to ensure it. His eyes began to close and he felt himself beginning to find a much-sought-after rest.
Suddenly, light was all around him. The brightness was so thick that the carpenter could not even see where he sat. A deep warmth enveloped him and he looked up to find the source of the light was directly above him.
Instinctively, he lifted his hand to block the light from his eyes. But this light was different than any he’d experienced. It seemed to run in every direction and attempting to shield it was useless. Suddenly, he saw a man standing directly overhead, dressed in a glowing robe of light.
“Joseph, thou son of David,” the angel spoke in a voice of powerful clarity. Joseph’s soul was filled with an energy he’d never before felt, and the eyes of the angel seemed to pierce his very existence. He sensed this angel perceived all his thoughts and the heaviness he was carrying. He knew there was no need to speak. He bowed his head in reverence.
Then with a voice of love and infinite strength, the angel brought peace to the troubled carpenter.
“Fear not to take unto thee Mary thy wife: for that which is conceived in her is of the Holy Ghost.”
Joseph felt an immense calm settle over him. His eyes filled with tears as he looked up at the angel in overwhelming gratitude and wonderment as the angel continued.
“She shall bring forth a son, and thou shalt call his name JESUS: for he shall save his people from their sins.”
All at once, the light and its warmth lulled the carpenter into an incredible sense of peace and joy. It seemed to explode inside and outside of him. Suddenly the shop was empty.
Whether this was a dream or not, it did not matter: it was as real as the table and tools before him. Joseph rejoiced and gave thanks to God.
A Place Such as This
In the months that followed, Joseph and Mary were married. He cared for her with an unrelenting love and tender affection as she advanced in her pregnancy. He never knew a man could love a woman as he did Mary. This love increased daily. He ensured she never had to toil over things that might cause distress and force her to deliver the child early.
When the time came for all in the region to be taxed, Joseph and Mary readied for travel to Bethlehem, as was customary. They packed up, knowing she could deliver at any moment on their journey. As Joseph carefully helped Mary atop a mule to begin their trek, she squeezed his hand reassuringly. He smiled feebly back, the worry and significance of it all weighing heavily on his mind.
Their journey, though long, was initially smoother than Joseph expected. Shortly after arriving in Bethlehem, however, his fear was realized.
“Joseph!” Mary called to him one evening as the sun was setting, interrupting his thoughts as he fed the mule its grain, “it is time.”
They hurried to the center of town in hopes that one of the local inns might house them for her to deliver. To his disappointment, the first two were without vacancy. Tax season meant Bethlehem was packed with visitors from all around, and Joseph began to sweat as he watched his new wife labor more intensely.
They knocked on the third inn, and Joseph more desperately implored its keeper. The elderly innkeeper motioned for someone to come to the door. A younger woman approached.
“Yes, father?”
“Is there no room anywhere?” the man spoke.
“No room, father,” the daughter said, looking to a deep-breathing Mary with concern.
The old man thought for a moment.
“You must find the maid and have her ready a place in the stable area. Tell her to make haste and prepare to help this woman deliver her child.”
“Very well,” his daughter said, hurrying away.
The older man stepped outside and closed the door to the noisy inn behind him. He gestured for Joseph and Mary to follow him around the side of the inn toward their family’s stable.
Joseph looked to Mary, desperately sorry he couldn’t find anything better.
Reading his mind and demonstrating her grace and maturity, Mary tried to force a soft smile.
“It is well, Joseph,” Mary said, “Let us go.”
Joseph swallowed through the tightness in his throat. He prayed in his mind, How could it be that such a child could be born in a place such as this? He pulled the mule carrying his wife toward the lowly stable where the Savior of the world would soon be born.
Good Tidings
To the young shepherd’s surprise, his uncle asked him to take his turn on the night-watch for each of the remaining nights on their journey. The young shepherd had no trouble staying awake, terrified of repeating his past mistake and eager to validate his uncle's trust. He decided to take a respite from wood carving and tried his best to immerse himself into shepherding.
During the months that followed, the shepherds spent much of their time traveling, with brief visits home to drop off goods and see their families. The boy’s confidence and experience as a vigilant shepherd increased with each journey, and with each night he spent looking after the sheep.
They had recently departed for Bethlehem where they would trade and sell the wool they would shear upon arriving. On this trip, the young shepherd began wood carving again in the early mornings, in the evenings as the sun hid behind the hills, and during night-watch when the moon was full.
On one such night, the sky was clear and the wind blew steadily as the young shepherd stood near the flock. They were just outside the city of Bethlehem. He surveyed the stars, which seemed more numerous and bright than ever before. He listened to the wind, as the animals and older shepherds slept. They planned to trade in Bethlehem the following day and then return home for a time, only for travels to begin anew shortly thereafter.
His mind wandered in many directions, much like the wind along the brush. He thought of his mother and father and wondered, as he was wont to do, what a life with them might be like where he wasn’t a shepherd.
He missed his mother, and he wished he’d known his father. He thought about his uncle--the only father figure he ever knew. He thought about the ease with which his uncle had forgiven the boy's night-watch transgression, and the confidence that experience instilled in him. He wondered if his uncle would so easily forgive him if he chose a different path from shepherding.
I am not his literal son—could a nephew be truly bound to his uncle’s trade? He wondered.
He thought of his aunt and his sister at home. He pulled the wooden lamb from his pocket. He had finished it that very morning. He remembered his commitment to create it the night his uncle returned with the lost lamb. He pondered on that experience as he studied the small, intricate features. He looked to the actual lamb who lay sleeping nearby--much larger now than when he’d been rescued before. He looked at the other members of the flock as they too rested.
Whether to their demise or to greener pastures, these sheep trusted the shepherds with a completeness that puzzled the boy.
Suddenly, the wind stopped. A thick silence fell over the camp—so much so that it halted the young shepherd’s thoughts. He looked around, startled at the unexpected hush.
At once, a light appeared in the sky as if a star had fallen and was making its way to where they rested. The light increased in brilliance until their entire camp was engulfed in a magnificent white glow.
All the shepherds awoke. The young shepherd and others fell to the earth in fear, heads bowed. Straightway, a warm voice of love penetrated the light, and the young shepherd felt his trembling body still itself.
“Fear not,” the voice declared.
The shepherds remained on their knees, and slowly lifted their heads and beheld an angel of God standing directly above them. As fears departed, each fixed his eyes on the heavenly messenger, unable to look away.
“For, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people,” the angel proclaimed.
The young shepherd could see through the brightness that the angel was smiling. The shepherd felt increasingly calm. The angel’s entire presence carried a joy that seemed to warm the young shepherd from the top of his head to the soles of his feet.
“For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord,” the angel continued.
The young shepherd felt a sensation of light and hope deep in the pangs of his heart that brought a sensation beyond any he had experienced. The angel continued:
“And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.”
And with those final words, the light seemed to burst around the angel and soar in every direction.
Suddenly, the angel was surrounded by countless others, similarly dressed, their faces beaming with the same divine joy, and bathed in the same brilliant light.
In unison, the Heavenly visitors sang out:
“Glory to God! Glory to God! Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men!”
The young shepherd could hardly contain the elation that enveloped him. The angel and his choir remained for a few moments more as they hugged and embraced one another in a divine display of joy and affection, only to suddenly depart in another flash of light. The night sky returned as the sheep settled down.
The shepherds looked to one another, silenced and mesmerized. The young shepherd saw his uncle wiping tears from his eyes.
The uncle looked to the young shepherd, then the others, and smiled.
“Come, let us make haste! Let us now go even unto Bethlehem!”
A King is Born
As they entered the city of Bethlehem, the uncle gave a few coins and a bag of fruit to a young man who was sleeping near his horse on the outskirts of the city and asked him to keep watch over the flock. As they made their way through the closed-down shops and slumbering homes, the young shepherd observed that he had no idea where they were going. The angel had said the babe would be wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger—but he wasn’t sure where they’d find such a scene.
To his comfort and wonder, his uncle walked with a deliberateness and awareness that belied an unmistakable confidence. He carried only a candle before him. The young shepherd trusted his uncle implicitly.
Finally, the shepherds slowed as they made their way past a local inn leaking sounds of laughter and music. Where the building ended, a narrow walkway began, and the uncle slowed his pace. The young shepherd watched as his uncle stopped at the path and bowed his head, his lips moving almost imperceptibly, and his eyes closed tightly. The young shepherd could not make out the words, but he was certain his uncle was praying.
Finally, the uncle looked to the boy, then to the other two shepherds, and smiled as he whispered, “He is here.”
The young shepherd felt a surge of excitement mingled with an unquenchable curiosity and longing he hadn’t experienced before. It was as if the way before them was pulling at his very heartstrings. They each followed his uncle down the narrow path. The sounds of the inn and city disappeared behind them.
It seemed all of Bethlehem was suddenly quiet as the young shepherd saw a glowing fire about fifty paces from where they walked. The silence was broken by the familiar sound of a bleating lamb. Apart from the glow of his uncle’s lamp lighting just a few paces ahead of them, the pathway had been dark until this point.
As they continued in the direction of the glowing fire, the young shepherd heard the soft, deep lowing of cattle. At this moment, he realized the glow was coming from a modest stable. As they approached, they were stopped by an elderly woman who, uncommon for this region and culture, stepped in front of the uncle and inquired their reasoning for passing this way.
To the young shepherd's surprise, his uncle told the woman exactly what they were doing and how they’d come to know of it. The elderly woman’s eyes widened as he spoke. She looked over her shoulder and then back to the shepherds, her eyes and thick white hair shining in the moonlit sky. She looked up, and the boy felt his eyes follow hers to a bright star directly over the firelit stable. The boy had been so concerned with the darkness of their path and his uncle’s confidence that he hadn’t noticed the star.
He was astonished at its brilliance and peculiar position, as if its singular purpose was to announce the sacred reason for their journey lay in this very spot. It was different than any star he had ever seen. The longer he watched it, the more brilliant it appeared. The elderly women studied the shepherds once more, then nodded and gestured for the shepherds to wait where they stood as she walked to the stable.
After a few moments, she returned and asked them to follow her. The young shepherd felt his heart within him burn. As they approached the glowing stable, the view of the fire was blocked by a mule and two cattle. The uncle put out his lamp. The elderly woman shooed the animals aside, and the boy felt his very breath stop in an instant.
There before them was a majestically simple scene of a gentle father and a beautiful, tired, young mother leaning against him as she held her sleeping, newborn babe against her neck. The shepherds didn’t move.
Mary looked to the shepherds, and then to her husband, who smiled gently back at her. No words were spoken. She carefully handed the sleeping infant to Joseph, who tenderly held the babe before carefully placing him in a manger lined with hay and a worn blanket.
As Joseph stepped back from the manger and returned to his wife, he lifted his arm for her to lean against him once more, hugging her tenderly. He marveled at the arrival of the shepherds and the divine reverence of it all.
Now I see, Joseph thought, Why this child must be born in such a place.
His heart overflowed with feelings of affection for Mary and the child. The peace and love in Joseph’s countenance was observed by the young shepherd, who was touched by the intimacy of it all.
The infant stirred for just a moment in the manger but remained fast asleep. Joseph motioned for the visitors to approach. The young shepherd, his uncle, and the others softly stepped forward, as if even a broken stick under their feet could awaken the sleeping baby. Each knew they walked on sacred ground.
They stopped a few paces short of the manger, and the young shepherd felt a sudden, deep urge to kneel in worship. The feeling was echoed among each of the shepherds as they bowed in unison. The same feeling of joy that accompanied the angel’s announcement filled the young shepherd’s heart once more. It was now accompanied by a deep stillness that reverenced all that was within him.
He studied the delicate features of the newborn, whose tiny hands and fingers were curled up below his chin. The shepherds marveled at the astonishing humility of it all.
Glory to God, he thought to himself, That I should be witness to the birth of such a King.
He looked to the child’s parents and saw in Joseph’s eyes, a love and strength he recognized. The young shepherd looked to his uncle, who was watching the babe in wonder. Then, as if he sensed the feelings of his nephew’s heart, his uncle looked to the young shepherd with the same steady love and strength.
The young shepherd’s eyes filled with tears as he smiled back, then looked to the infant Savior once more.
God be thanked for fathers such as these, my King.
Joseph could see the uncle’s tender gaze and fondness for the young shepherd.
That I may be such a father, Joseph whispered to himself.
The young shepherd bowed his head and reached into his pocket to pull out his carved wooden lamb. It was wrapped in a small white cloth. He cradled it in his hands for a moment, then looked again to Mary and Joseph. Mary smiled at the young boy, a look that reminded him of memories of his own mother. He looked to the wooden lamb, and back to Mary, who understood and nodded.
The young shepherd gently placed the gift next to the manger as a tear rolled down his cheek. Then, in a manner he could not fully understand, he felt something deep within his soul bring a reassuring clarity--as if heaven was telling him that all the difficulties, loss, and sorrow in his young life would somehow be made right by the tiny babe before him.
Never before had he felt such solace.
He softly whispered to the sleeping baby, "Glory to God. Glory to God. Glory be to you, my Savior, my King."
And for the first time in his life, he thanked Heaven for the honor of being a shepherd.
-hb mercy
(Merry Christmas! what a beautiful time to remember Him. Artwork: "Fear Not", by Liz Lemon Swindle)
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