The night stretched wide and silent over the Judean hills, its stillness broken only by the soft bleating of sheep and the crackle of the shepherds’ fire. Yochanan leaned against a rocky outcrop, his staff resting across his lap, while Simon poked at the fire with a stick, his brow furrowed.
“Did you hear the Romans passed by Bethlehem again today?” Simon muttered, throwing another stick into the flames.
“Nothing new there,” Yochanan replied, his voice low. “Trouble follows them like a shadow. Still, I’d rather them stay out of our hills. Last thing we need is them disturbing the flock.”
Levi, the youngest among them, sat a little apart, his hands cupped around a small clay bowl of warmed milk. “Do you think Messiah will come soon?” he asked softly, his voice barely carrying over the breeze.
Yochanan turned, his lined face thoughtful. “Why do you ask, Levi? Feeling restless again?”
Levi shrugged, his gaze on the stars scattered above. “I just think… the prophecies, the promises… sometimes it feels like we’ve been waiting forever.”
Simon snorted. “Prophecies won’t feed your sheep or keep wolves at bay, boy. Focus on what’s in front of you.”
“Enough, Simon,” Yochanan said sharply, though not unkindly. “The boy isn’t wrong to hope. Who knows? Perhaps we’ll live to see the day of the Lord.”
Levi opened his mouth to reply, but a sudden, blinding light silenced him. The air seemed to shimmer, the darkness melting away as if the stars themselves had descended.
“Be not afraid!” a voice called, ringing clear and powerful over the hills.
The shepherds scrambled to their feet, their hearts pounding. Before them stood a figure clothed in radiance, its form both awe-inspiring and terrifying.
“I bring you good tidings of great joy,” the angel proclaimed, its voice steadying them as much as it shook them. “For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you: ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.”
Yochanan dropped to his knees, his hands trembling as he covered his face. Simon clutched his staff, his usual bravado stripped away. Levi, wide-eyed, could only stare, the angel’s words echoing in his ears.
Then, as if the heavens could not contain their joy, the sky filled with a multitude of angels. Their voices rose in a symphony that seemed to reverberate through the very stones beneath their feet.
“Glory to God in the highest,” they sang, “and on earth peace, goodwill toward men.”
The light gradually dimmed, and the angels ascended, leaving the shepherds standing in stunned silence. The world seemed both impossibly vast and intimately close, as if something eternal had touched their fleeting lives.
“We have to go,” Levi whispered, breaking the silence.
“To Bethlehem,” Yochanan agreed, rising with a renewed strength in his old bones. “We must see this thing which has come to pass.”
Simon nodded, his usual skepticism replaced by something softer, something reverent. Without another word, the three gathered their cloaks and left the safety of the fire, their footsteps hurried yet deliberate.
The journey to Bethlehem was short but felt endless, the anticipation pressing heavily upon them. The narrow streets of the town were quieter than expected, though a few lanterns glowed in windows, and the distant murmurs of others stirred in the cool night air.
At last, they arrived at the place the angel had spoken of—a lowly stable tucked behind an inn. The scent of hay and animals met them, familiar yet different, as if the ordinary had been infused with something holy.
Yochanan paused at the threshold, his breath catching. He turned to the others. “Are we ready?”
Levi, his face alight with wonder, nodded. Simon, though quieter than usual, placed a steadying hand on the boy’s shoulder.
Together, they stepped inside. The dim glow of a lantern revealed the humble scene—a man and woman huddled close to a manger. And there, lying peacefully amidst the straw, was the Child.
They froze, their hearts bursting with awe as they gazed upon Him. It was a moment that would remain etched in their souls—a moment where heaven had come down to earth, and nothing would ever be the same.
