I was there on that holy, silent night.
Those three wise men get all the attention for gift-giving, but I was a real live present. I was born earlier in the day, in the fields, outside the little town of Bethlehem, the flock’s newest member.
I was snuggling up against my mom, Ewe-nice, that night, when the angel appeared. I was amazed and when the angel mentioned a baby I puffed my little chest out a bit. But then my mom said, “He’s not talking about you.” Those smelly shepherds were so scared. Then that heavenly host came out of nowhere and started singing. A shepherd boy wandered up to me and I whispered, “Do you hear what I hear?” He quietly nodded. I had never heard such beautiful singing in all my life. All 8 ½ hours of it.
Then one of the shepherds scooped me up and took my mom and me with him and a few other guys to go check out what the angel had said. We walked hastily for a long time because the angel didn’t really give us very clear directions, but eventually we found the scene. Behind a tiny inn, there was this stable. It was a pretty typical stable, crowded, stinky, lots of hay, and some bigger animals. Real ugly fellows if you ask me, a braying donkey, a goat and an ox. Some cattle were lowing.
It was pretty dark in that stable but the baby was there, a little child in the straw, tucked away in a manger. The shepherds looked adoringly at the baby. One quietly murmured, “What child is this?” They told the young parents about the angel and the choir. The mother, her name is Mary, was so excited over our story. She in turn told us the account of her visit from the angel, Joseph’s dream, and their nine-month journey of faith that led to this cold stable. As she talked, I could just see the thrill of hope on her face.
Soon it was time to leave and the shepherds began giving the couple a few meager gifts. They presented whatever they could find, some pieces of bread and a few coins. I’ve since found it strange that God would choose those guys to get a front row seat at the angelic concert and be the first visitors to see the baby. I mean they were basically outcasts, a lowly bunch to say the least. But that’s God for you. One shepherd picked me up and placed me at Mary’s feet. I gave my mom a worried look and the shepherd must have seen it because then he handed her over to Joseph too. Finally, just as the shepherds turned to leave, the small shepherd boy began playing on a drum. I don’t think he had anything else to give. A big ox and I kept time. It truly was a gift fit for a king.
That’s my story. My mom and I have been a part of their family ever since. I do miss my dad though. He didn’t live much longer. Those in my former flock were used for temple sacrifices, yet another one of God’s cool details. After the three kings followed the star of wonder and dropped off some gifts we had to relocate to Egypt. Their presents came in handy. I don’t know how Joseph would have paid for our journey without them.
Now we live in Nazareth. The boy, Jesus, is five or six. He likes when I follow him around. He thinks he’s a junior shepherd. He’s a good little boy, obedient, very honoring, and wise beyond his days. His birthday is coming up. Each year Mary and Joseph recount the amazing story of his arrival. They are especially thankful for the gifts, the shepherd boy’s drumming, the offerings of the magi, and me.
But you know what I think? I think the boy is actually the gift. I mean, I’ve heard Mary remind Joseph of what the angel told her when she was to become pregnant: “He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over Jacob’s descendants forever; his kingdom will never end.” And then there are the words of the angel, the words I heard with my own two ears: “Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord.”
Kingdom.
Savior.
Messiah.
Lord.
Not your typical words to describe a baby. And it certainly was not an everyday birth. I have a feeling that this young boy is going to grow up to do some remarkable things. Sometimes when I watch him play in the mud or handle loaves of bread he gets this weird twinkle in his eye. Sometimes when he’s helping Joseph build something out back in the workshop he’ll examine extra closely certain pieces of wood and a few nails.
Yes, I do think something extraordinary happened that night. It was from God. The baby came from the Father in heaven. I’ve heard Mary say quietly to Joseph when they think everybody is asleep, “it was the birth of grace.” Then Joseph replies, “Just think Mary, man will live forevermore because of that very day.”
Merry Christmas
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