My name is Ascher. I was eight years old when this story happened. I’m all grown up now and I’ve carried this story in my heart for a long time without telling anyone. But after what happened a few weeks ago, I think it’s time I told what I saw and heard that night.
I was the youngest of six brothers. I had two sisters as well, but I was the youngest. I grew so tired of being called “Little Ascher” by my parents and siblings. Surely eight years was enough to get me past that nickname. But it persisted. Perhaps it’s the very reason I saw and heard what I did.
That morning a group of shepherds from Bethlehem was going to the grasslands outside of the city. They had the flocks of many of the townspeople with them and the shepherds were having quite a time of it, trying to get all those bleating sheep under control. Three of my brothers were shepherds and my father was determined to make me the fourth shepherd in our family. I was to go with them.
Mother knew I didn’t want to go. I would miss out on the event my temple class had planned. We were to sing the traditional Hebrew songs for our friend Nathaniel who would be observing his Bar-Mitzva that week. It was an honor for my class to be considered accomplished enough in our Hebrew studies to sing the songs for all those who would attend. Mother tried to console me by packing a special bag of food just for me that I didn’t have to share with my brothers. Father gave me my own water horn and told me I might take Nipper, my puppy I was training as a sheep dog out with our flock as long as I helped all the shepherds and didn’t wander off. It seems I was prone to doing just that.
That morning I had my knapsack of food, my horn and a blanket for my bed all strapped into a pack on my back. Nipper and I left our stable and joined the multitude of sheep milling about as the shepherds struggled to get them all headed the same direction. I tried to help but didn’t feel like I was accomplishing anything. At one point a fat ewe shoved her head into my stomach and made me fall. My knee began to bleed from a rock I fell on. No one seemed to care about me as I struggled to me feet. Their attention was on the sheep. But my knee hurt and I was already thirsty from the shouting.
Nipper also tried to help but he was just a puppy, not one of the experienced sheep dogs. He ran and barked at all the wrong places until my brother Levi yelled at me. “Get that dog out of here. He’s ruining all our efforts.” I was only too glad to do just as he asked.
I called to Nipper and he followed me as I stepped away from the flocks and shepherds, thinking I would rest a bit and have a nice drink of water from the nearby creek. I knew well the spot the shepherds were headed for and if they happened to leave without me, which I didn’t think they would, I could easily catch up. I got a horn full of water and sat under the shade of a sycamore tree, far enough away that the constant bleating and shouting seemed distant, a welcome relief to my aching ears.
That’s where things went wrong. My eyes felt heavy and I closed them for a moment. I guess I fell asleep for when I awoke the shepherds and sheep were gone. No one was around and all was quiet. I knew what I should do. I should run after them until I caught up. But if I did that, Ezra, my oldest brother would scold me for having fallen behind. The day was warm and the last thing I wanted at that moment was to rejoin the noisy flocks and see the scorn in Ezra’s eyes. He thought I was too young to go with the shepherds, but Father hadn’t listened to him.
As if of their own accord, my legs started carrying me in the opposite direction, toward the western edge of the city where Nipper and I sometimes came to play with the other boys. But today, they would be in Temple Class. I could just stay there for a little while, maybe try to sneak back to the flocks when darkness fell and hope no one had missed me or noticed I was gone. It seemed so much more pleasant than the smelly, bleating flocks. I knew I was misbehaving. I should have cared but I didn’t. I was tired of being bossed around and being called Little Ascher. I’d show them I was all grown up and could take care of myself.
So I did. I spent the afternoon playing with Nipper in the green fields. We stayed outside the city because it was so crowded there. I’d heard Father tell Mother that Bethlehem was being overrun by visitors, so many people coming to the City of David to pay the tax and be counted in the census that had been decreed. I was glad to be away from all the bustling about.
But when I noticed the sun beginning to set, I called Nipper and we headed back nearer to the city. I had felt so brave in the bright sunshine, but now that evening shadows were falling, I didn’t want to be so far away. I knew I should go find the flocks and my brothers but I was afraid. It’d be good and dark before I got there. What if I lost my way? What if a wild animal came to attack? I had no weapon. Oh how I wished I had started back earlier, but I hadn’t. I finally decided I’d find a quiet place on the very outskirts of the city where someone would be within calling distance, and yet I could stay out of sight. Where?
I found the perfect place. Someone’s stable sat behind the house, far enough away I could hide behind it and remain unnoticed. Perhaps after darkness came and the cow inside had been milked and fed, I could even move into the stable and sleep on a bed of hay. I had to be sure to be gone before morning light though. Being discovered in someone’s stable would not end well.
Nipper and I settled back, leaning against the wall of the old shed. A woman came and milked the cow. Nipper remained quiet, tired from our day of romping on the hillsides. The woman closed the door for the night and left. Lantern lights shone through the windows of the house. Just when I thought it might be safe to go inside the stable, I heard voices. They were distant at first then grew closer. A man was saying something. “This must be the place. Not much, but at least you won’t be in a public room in the inn. I’m sorry. I wish I could do better for you. You must be so uncomfortable.”
A woman’s softer voice answered. “It will have to do. The pains are coming faster now. I need to lie down and right now I’ll take whatever’s available.” The door opened and they went inside, closing the door behind them. Maybe I should find another place for the night. But wait, I could still hear them talking.
“Joseph, I am so scared. I don’t know if I can do this.”
“Be strong Mary. I’ll be right here with you. You know Yahweh is here too. You are to bear the promised Christ Child. The angels. . .”
“I know. I know all that. But I should be at home. My mother and the midwives should be attending me. I have never been this terrified in my life. Why would Yahweh bring us to this dirty place to bear the Child? Joseph, a cow lives here. It smells. I don’t understand. I can’t do it.”
“You can.“ The man’s voice had grown softer as the woman’s came between gasps and hard breaths. “You have found favor in the sight of Yahweh. He has blessed you to be the mother of the Christ. He will not leave you or forsake you in this hour of pain. Fear has no place on this night of promise.” Joseph sounded as if he were trying hard to believe his own words.
It occurred to me that the woman must be having a baby. I didn’t understand what they were talking about or what Yahweh had to do with it, but I could hear fear in both their voices and feel it in my own wildly beating heart. I did what Mother always told me to do when I felt afraid and I prayed. I prayed for both of them and the Child that was to come. A baby born in a stable? Perhaps I should run to find a midwife for her? But I didn’t know where to look or how to convince anyone to follow me to a stable on the outskirts of town. Why didn’t they at least go to one of the inns? I wondered if anyone had ever borne a child in an inn. I’d heard that most of the inns had a large room and they bed down as many people in that room as it could hold. Would that be any better than this stable? At least this place was private. All at once, I felt guilty. I shouldn’t be listening to the conversation or be anywhere near a childbirth. I had to leave and fast. But where would I go? Could I get some help for these poor people?
As I uncertainly got to my feet, the night sky that had been black only a moment ago was now brilliantly lit. My eyes followed the light to a star, a star so large and so bright I knew I had never seen another like it. It seemed to shed its light directly over the stable.
Fear suddenly rose into my throat and threatened to overwhelm me. I had to get away from here. I started running and Nipper followed. I ran and ran into the night. The only place I could think of to go where I knew I would be safe is where the shepherds would be settled for the night with the flocks quietly grazing on the hillside. My brothers were there. They’d know what to do.
At last, legs shaking, a sharp ache in my side and my lungs struggling for every breath, I caught sight of their fires. I took a moment to catch my breath, but dared not wait long. I needed to get help for that poor woman. Mary, the man had called her.
I burst into the camp, forgetting my original plan to sneak in unnoticed. The shepherds looked up in surprise as I entered into the light of the fire. I looked frantically from face to face searching for one of my brothers. Ezra! I caught sight of him and started toward him. All at once, a light brighter than all of the fires combined shone over us. All of us turned around in fear and wonder, searching for the source of the light.
Then what could have only been a heavenly angel stood before us, bathed in a brilliant light. Some of the shepherds fell to their knees, others lay prostrate on the hard ground. One fell over in a dead faint. I stood there staring, unable to believe what stood in front of me. The angel spoke in a voice like thunder that echoed off the hillsides. Some of the sheep ran at the sound. I tried to look past my amazement long enough to absorb the words. “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.”
As I tried to comprehend this, I was overcome by the appearance of many angels, filling the night sky with brilliant light and a song like none I had ever heard. “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.” I fell to my knees finding myself too weak to stand. Ezra was beside me, flat on his face, but I could not look away even though the light hurt my eyes. I watched until the heavens seemed to open and the angels disappeared, leaving the hillside dark and quiet once again. As I peered into the sky trying to see where the angels had gone, I became aware that the bright star I had first seen from behind the stable was still visible, its radiance seeming to come from above the city of Bethlehem.
One by one the other shepherds rose to their feet, still staring into the sky. Finally someone spoke. “Let’s go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.” Another said. “Yes, we must go back to Bethlehem and look for this Child.” Still another shook his head. “But how will we find Him? A babe in a manger? What can this mean?”
I heard my own voice answer as the events of the evening began to come together in my mind. “I know where to find the Babe. Follow me.” I started off back toward the city from whence I had just come. Many years later I am still amazed that all those grown shepherds followed me, an eight-year-old boy, without asking how I knew this or where the manger was located in the city. I’m not sure I could have answered those questions if they had asked them, but I knew. I knew the stable I had hidden behind contained the manger the angel had spoken of. I had to get there. We had to get there. We had to get there to worship the Messiah.
I ran and they followed. Somehow I was able to run even though I had nearly exhausted myself in my earlier flight. We all ran, me leading the way right back to the stable I had fled earlier that evening. No one thought about the sheep. Even Nipper stayed behind with the flocks on the hillside. We couldn’t bother with that just now. We must find the Babe the angel told us about.
When we arrived at the stable, the door had been opened. A light shone from the inside though I could not have named its source. The man called Joseph met us at the door. “Who are you and what do you want with us? We’ve done nothing wrong.”
Ezra stepped forward. “Sir, we mean you no harm.” His voice shook but he continued. “ We are shepherds that tend the city flocks on the hillsides east of Bethlehem. Tonight we witnessed a miraculous sight. An angel appeared to us. All of us saw him. He told us the Messiah had been born in Bethlehem and was lying in a manger. We have come to worship the Child.”
Joseph looked hesitant but he stood aside. We crowded into the doorway, only the few of us in front able to see what was before us. Indeed, a newborn Child lay sleeping in a manger that had been filled with hay. A young woman lay on the hay beside the manger, looking tired but joyous. At the sight of the men in the doorway, she sat up and laid a protective hand over the Child. “Please, I heard her whisper in a raspy voice. “Only a few of you at a time. Don’t frighten Him.”
I was among the first to enter. The Baby in the manger looked anything but frightened. The peace on His little face was enviable. I knelt beside the manger and gazed in awe at Him. Could this tiny Babe really be the promised Messiah? He must be for I had heard the Heavenly angels proclaim Him so. I prayed and my heart flooded with a measure of the same peace I saw on the Child’s face.
After we had all had a turn to bow in reverence at the Child’s side, many of the shepherds ran through the streets of Bethlehem shouting to all who would hear them of what they had just seen. A crowd soon gathered at the stable and I felt pity for the young mother who must now endure this public display of her precious Child. I went with my brothers back to the flocks. Amazingly, they remained where we had left them, some resting on the hillsides, others quietly grazing.
There was no sleep that night. As the shepherds returned to the camp, one or two at a time, their eyes full of wonder, we all sat around the campfires and talked of all we had seen and heard. There were a few scoffers among us, but most of us believed the long-promised Messiah had finally come. Those who had studied at Temple knew the Scriptures pointed to Bethlehem as the place, though this Child in a ramshackle stable bed was not what we had expected.
No one ever asked me where I had been that day and I never brought it up again, until now. I still felt like an intruder having overheard what I did of the conversation between God’s favored one and the man called Joseph. I was glad Joseph was with Mary and she did not face that night alone.
Now, as I write this, I am many years older and wiser. I gave up the shepherd trade early in life and now live just outside Jerusalem with my wife and children where I raise sheep and goats to be purchased by those who would travel here to sacrifice at the Temple. It is a good living, though taxes are high and the Roman government oppressive. I never forgot what happened that night in Bethlehem and I closely followed the man called Yeshua who many claimed was the Messiah. I knew in my heart it was so and that He was the blessed Babe I saw in the manger that night.
And now, at this recent Passover celebration, they have crucified Him. I saw it from a distance, the three crosses on the hill of Calvary. I feel distraught and dismayed. We thought He was to become a King and rule over us, but now He is gone. Furthermore, some of His disciples claim that He is alive, that He is risen from the dead and many report seeing Him.
It’s hard to know what to believe, and yet there is an unexplainable sense of hope that fills me. The angels did not sing in vain that night. I have never forgotten the beauty of their song. Perhaps His crucifixion and claimed resurrection is all part of Yahweh’s great plan for our salvation. I count myself among the believers and will now proclaim the news of all I saw and heard that night long ago in Bethlehem. For I once heard Yeshua speak to a great crowd of people. He said something like this. “For God so loved the world that He sent His one and only Son to die for the sin of all those who would believe on Him.”
I believe.
