We sat by the fire long into the night listening to Grandfather tell stories.

They were not ordinary stories, nor were they fables or legends. There was a magic about them that I could not explain. It was like sitting by a glowing fire that never got too hot. It just warmed you and made your insides dance with happiness. You see, Grandfather was there on that blessed night.

Grandfather was a shepherd from the tribe of Levi, and his name was Levi. He owned many sheep and spent many nights out at the sheepfold during lambing season. He didn’t want to lose one of those precious little lambs to the wolves. Lambs are so little and weak. I’ve seen them wobble around on their spindly legs with their tails wagging like puppies.

Sheep are not very bright, you know. They follow each other into danger without a care. Once the whole band of sheep had to be pulled out of the bog one by one. The first sheep led the way, and they all jumped right into the bog, even when the first sheep was flailing for life.

Sheep are good at heart, though. I have never seen a mean one. Goats, maybe, but not sheep. Sheep listen to the master’s voice. When he calls them to the sheepfold, they come running. I don’t know how Grandfather taught them to come at his call. I guess he taught them when they were young, or maybe they just learned it from the ewe.

I guess when you teach the mother sheep which way to go, the lambs just naturally follow. The prophet Isaiah said we are all like sheep. I am not sure how we are like sheep, but Isaiah was a prophet, and he must know.

Grandfather would sit and hold a newborn lamb for hours, stroking its woolly little body. I thought it was because Grandfather loved those lambs so much.

Grandmother said, “He does love every lamb very much, but he holds each one and inspects them closely in order to find the very best lamb to be given to the Lord for a sacrifice. You see, shepherds find the best of their lambs and swaddle them like babies. They wrap them up in swaddling clothes so they will not get a bruise or a blemish. Lambs that are sacrificed must be perfect. They represent the Messiah who will come someday. He too will be without spot or blemish. He will be perfect.”

I always felt a sadness come upon me when I saw Grandfather choose a lamb. His little body so white and pure and his eyes so full of trust and love. I think it hurt Grandfather too, but he tried not to let it show. His life was dedicated to the Great Jehovah, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, and he would obey.

As I look up into the starry night, I remember Grandfather’s stories. This is how he told his story:

The sky was alive with stars, glittering and twinkling in the black synagogue of heaven. The silence gathered around you like a shawl of wool. Then I saw it, a magnificent star shining in the east. It was so bright the stars around it seemed to pale into oblivion. It sparkled over Bethlehem like a guard showering glittering rays over the sleeping city.

I pointed it out to Simon, Aaron and Nathaniel. They stared in awe. We didn’t speak. We scarcely breathed. Only the bleating of new lambs pierced the awesome reverence of the night. We wondered, pondered and waited. What could this mean? The star seemed to have a message, but what?

We began to pray – not out of fear; the great Jehovah would know the answer. Suddenly, a prick of light appeared in the blackness. It grew brighter and brighter until it surrounded us. In the midst of the light, we saw a man in a white robe. His countenance was dazzling. I threw my arm across my eyes for fear I would be blinded by the glorious light. It was an angel! Yes, it was an angel sent from God!

His voice was as thunder when he spoke. His words set my soul on fire: “Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.

“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.”

Before we had time to wonder at the magnificent message, the sky was filled with multitudes of angels. The golden trumpets filled the sky with a glorious blast, and the angel choir began to sing. “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.” The notes of the song seemed to be infused with light; they shivered through my body with a warmth unlike anything I had ever known. I knew the message was true and that it came from the Almighty God.

The darkness settled around, and the bleating of the new lambs were the only sounds in the night. We sat there weak and trembling and entirely amazed at what we had seen.

Simon spoke first. His voice was a hushed whisper, “Let us go and see what has come to pass in Bethlehem.”

As we wound our way toward Bethlehem, we were joined by other shepherds who had received the same message, but no one even whispered, savoring the inward glow of the experience.

We passed by the palace of King Herod; the pillars were bathed in blackness and the empty street seemed to make the light shudder within us. We walked past the inns that were filled with sleeping travelers. None were awake to see the glorious star or hear the announcement of the angels. I wondered if we should wake them, but I thought if the angel’s song had not jarred them awake, they might mar the moment with a loud complaint. They would wake up to a new tomorrow, and then they would know.

Up the hill to a cave, a stable, where new lambs had been swaddled. There the star shone down on a baby in a manger. Though his face was wrinkled with new birth, his countenance smiled with a heavenly light. He seemed to know us as we knelt before him. It was as if he said, “Welcome, Levi, my servant.” I reached out my hand and his little fingers closed around mine. The feeling that filled my soul at that moment will never leave me. I knew he was the long-promised Messiah, and I knew he knew me. “God be praised!”

We went back to our sheep rejoicing, and I never tired of telling my story. I thought the world would change if they knew the Messiah had come – but no. I returned to the cave many times. He was gone. I thought perhaps he died when Herod killed the babies, but somewhere in my heart I knew he had to have escaped. God would not announce His son and have him killed by a tyrant.

Rome gained in power, and the world became less safe. Then I heard of this man called Jesus who was healing the sick, raising the dead and causing the blind to see. I heard tell of how he calmed the raging sea, and I knew it was him.

I longed to see him and follow him, hear his words and feel his touch again, but I could not go to him – you see, I was no longer young and I could not walk. My heart broke when I heard the Romans had nailed the young rabbi of miracles to the cross, and how he said, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

He was our only hope and salvation. He was the Messiah! I didn’t understand. How could God allow his son to be killed in such a cruel manner? Then I remembered the lambs without blemish, their pure perfect bodies and their eyes of love. I remembered they were sacrificed to represent the Messiah, the one who also was without blemish or stain.

Suddenly, I understood the sacrifice. This Messiah was the Lamb of God who was sacrificed for the sins of all mankind. He was wrapped in swaddling clothes in a manger and was saved for the moment when He would bring all men unto Him through His great love. God be praised! Glory to God in the highest! Peace on earth, good will toward men!  PD