THE WIFE OF THE SHEPHERD:

My husband is a shepherd. And at times, in the spring of the year, when the nights are cool, and the stars hang so low in the heavens I want to reach up and pull one to me with the crooked end of my husband's staff, we go into the fields, and there, together, we watch the flocks.

There are those who say we are poor, that of the many who come and go, wander and stay in this beloved and ancient land, we are the lowliest, and the most humble. Humble? Perhaps. Indeed, it is what we desire. But poor? Oh my friend, if only I could give you the eyes to see, the heart to feel the vastness and incredible beauty of the ageless Judean hills, the deep peace and contentment we've found in this land of unspoiled solitude, the quiet, almost unspeakable joy we feel in the companionship we share, one with another, and with Almighty God. Hardly poor - in fact, infinitely richer than the madman Herod who sits decaying with disease and corruption in his marble palace beyond the hills.

They say of Herod that within his great palace are vast treasures of gold and precious gems. And yet, I, the wife of a lowly shepherd would not part with one instant, be it so small, of the miracle that unfolded before us in the fields, not so very long ago. No, not for a hundred times, and a hundred times again the wealth of the man who dares call himself our king.

They tell of that night, that night of all nights, in a great book --the one you call Bible. It tells in words, lovely and true of that night when worlds and eternity alike stood still, and witnessed the birth of Jesus, the Christ.

And I was there, it was I, I who stood with my heart, my soul, soaring, shivering, singing, while the glory, of the Lord shone around about. The Glory of the Lord -- there are no words to describe it. It was like -- like the very first dawning on all creation, and every dawn thereafter glowing and melting into one -- shimmering, shining, throbbing, awesome and frightening. We WERE so afraid. But then came the voice -- clear, piercing sweet, beautiful beyond description. "Unto you is born this day, in the city of David a Savior, which Christ the Lord."

And suddenly, there was with the angel, a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, "Glory to God in the Highest, and on Earth peace, good will toward men."

Like an infinite and eternal exaltation of larks they sang; sang until my heart must surely shatter and the tears ran unchecked down my cheeks and dropped unnoticed upon my clasped and trembling hands.

To you, who have read my story, and considered it a tale for fools and children, I can say only this -- from this eternity to the next, never ending to never ending -- I SAW WHAT I SAW. And I tell you the truth, as pure and clean and bright as the noonday sun. Worlds without end, it cannot, will not change.

For the humble, it is easy to believe, as we believed what we heard that night. And because we believed, we went and did see the child, lying in a manger. We saw, that night, a sight multitudes of people -- past, present and future -- kings, and commoners, princes and potentates would give their lives to see, the infant son of the Lord God Almighty.

Poor? Ours was a divine gift, a sacred treasure, to be kept deep within the heart, wondered at, pondered upon, cherished. And then to be told, in great reverence and in the quiet of night, to children, and they to theirs, generation to generation. Forever.


Merry Christmas everyone.