Author's Note: So this was written for a Secret Santa over on the "Narnia Still Lives" forum. I would have posted this sooner... but it was still being written because inspiration hit late. Annoying right? But Jesus wasn't born Dec 25, so it's not technically late, right? :-)
The stars shone large and bright overhead while the nearby fire cast dancing shadows into the darkness of the valley. The sheep had long nestled down in the stubby grass, lulled to sleep by the strum of a harp and a gentle voice.
"Play it again, Dauid?"
"But I've already played it twice."
"Just one time more? Please?"
Dauid could see the firelight's glow in the track a tear had left on Grandfather's face. So he picked out the tune again. "The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want…."
It wasn't that Dauid didn't like to sing and play the psalm – really, he loved it. What shepherd didn't relate to that imagery? What righteous Jew didn't recognize that he was a sheep in the Lord's pasture? Nor was it that Dauid doubted the shepherd-king's description of the Lord. Questioned it, maybe, in times like this. But he never really doubted.
"Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies…."
Dauid could just make out the pinpricks of light from Bethlehem, situated on the hill on the other side of the valley. The city of David. Who knew David had so many descendants? Dauid shook his head in amazement. He was glad he was native to the city – in fact, thankful that the only inconvenience he had to put up with was the waves of people invading temporarily. That and the Romans and their blasted taxes.
As the final chord faded into the night, Grandfather straightened and sighed. "Just imagine, Dauid. That is how things will be when Messiah comes."
"I know, Grandfather." Dauid started up another melody. Messiah. The Promised One that every Jew prayed for, hoped for, looked forward to. It was just that Grandfather had the tendency to harp on the subject once he got started. Not that Dauid didn't believe in Messiah's coming – oh, no, he hoped and prayed as fervently as any other man his age. He just didn't want to listen to Grandfather's rambling hopes and prayers as constantly as he did. It just made Messiah seem more like an old wives' tale at times.
Grandfather remained silent, his eyes sweeping over the master's herd till, from out of the night, two other men appeared and stretched their hands out to the fire. Dauid set down his harp.
"All is calm," Father said, "and all accounted for."
"I think we gave that would-be thief a good scare last night," Zakkai chuckled. "We should be able to sleep tonight."
Grandfather grunted as he pulled himself up with his staff. "It is while you sleep that he is likeliest to strike. Or if not he, then a beast."
Zakkai ducked his head. "I merely spoke in jest," he mumbled.
"Well, don't," Grandfather snapped – or as near as he could come to snapping with that soft voice of his. The next moment, though, all softness left his voice as he cried out.
Dauid didn't blame him. He threw his arms over his face to block out a white-hot light, but – "I can't see! I can't –!" But he forced himself to blink and found that he had not gone blind after all, for there, before his eyes, were his red-hemmed sleeves. He parted them to look at the light beyond and immediately wished he hadn't. Terror stopped his heart, then set it racing. A strangled wail erupted from his lips before he realized he had the breath to propel it. The ground rushed up at him and only when he made contact with the coarse grass did he realize that, at some point, he had stood up in his surprise. He could feel his limbs trembling.
"Fear not," said a voice like music.
Dauid felt as though the light penetrated through his person just as surely as the voice sent his every nerve tingling. But he lifted his head anyway. Just enough to catch a second glimpse of the speaker. He seemed to be clothed in white fire and made of sheer brilliance.
"Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people."
Dauid had a vague sense of the sheep running in no particular direction and tripping over the ones that had fallen. He could feel Zakkai's eyes searching for his, but he couldn't pull his away from the fantastic figure in the sky. He did feel like his arms could collapse on him at any second, though.
"For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord."
A Saviour! The Messiah! Here? Now? In the city of David, the city of… Dauid? Could it be?
"And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the Babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger."
The Messiah… a baby? But Dauid had no chance to process that information for the shining being was joined by myriads of others. He stared at them, wide-eyed, transfixed. The stars were no more; the sky was full of the flaming creatures. What's more, they spoke. In perfect unison – or was it harmony?
"Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men."
He felt a thrill go down his spine and through the rest of him. Not from the cold. Not even from fear – or at least not as much as before. But from – what was the word now? – wonder, speechless awe.
And with that, the glorious beings were gone, leaving their chorus ringing in his heart and whispering on the nighttime breeze.
Dauid gasped for air, suddenly aware he'd held his breath, and finally met Zakkai's bug-eyed, wide-mouthed expression. He immediately clapped his own mouth shut and turned the other direction to see Grandfather leaning on both his staff and Father. Heavily.
"We… we must go!" Grandfather blurted. "To Bethlehem! The Lord has made this known to us; we must see." Almost as suddenly as the appearance of the angels – for Dauid finally remembered what such creatures were called –, Grandfather straightened and took off for the other side of the valley.
Something surged through Dauid and he was already out of the firelight's reach, harp in hand, before his feet had properly caught up with him. Indeed, they'd hardly situated themselves under him before – "Oomf!" A ewe bleated piteously while Father and Zakkai laughed from behind.
"Come on, Dauid!" Father grabbed Dauid's arm and practically yanked him back up on his feet. Dauid laughed and passed them, though he remained close enough to benefit from the torches they had been wise enough to bring. Grandfather was… well, probably halfway to Bethlehem already. It crossed his mind that they didn't know where in Bethlehem the Messiah was. But he pushed the thought aside. Who cared? He was about to see the Messiah!
Grandfather met them just inside the city, practically dancing beside himself. "This way, quickly!" He caught Zakkai's arm with the crook of his staff and tugged him along. "Reuben's shepherds said He's this way."
"Where is He?" a strange voice cut in. Dauid started and stared at a massive shepherd who had run up behind him. "Where did you say He was?"
Grandfather pointed down the street and rattled off blissfully-short-but-positively-dizzying directions. The strange shepherd and his companion thanked them and barrelled down the street. "Come on, come on!" Grandfather urged, "While I'm still young, if you please!"
Not that they needed any urging: the other two shepherds never left their sight. When they arrived, Dauid was suddenly aware of their state: hot, breathless, and rank with the stench of sheep. Surely it was no way to greet the Messiah, even if angels had announced His coming to men as lowly as shepherds. But then he laid eye on the infant in the manger. Just as the angel had said He'd be. Dauid dropped to his knees. So this was how the Lord chose to reveal His Anointed One. The One who would save the chosen people. This wasn't how Dauid expected to see Him, but perhaps there was something to these humble beginnings. The baby's eyes opened just the teeniest bit and Dauid felt tears well up in his own. Hardly realizing he was doing it, he plucked the strings of his harp.
The Messiah made a sound and Dauid stopped mid-strum. The baby stilled and his parents gave no indication of displeasure. Before Dauid could decide what to do, Grandfather softly began to sing. "He restoreth my soul: He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name's sake." The others joined in, soft and lilting. Dauid resumed his music. "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for Thou art with me; Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me."
Dauid could feel the tears coming up again. Tears of relief, joy, thanks.
Tears of love.
The Messiah was come. He was not a fable, no longer a dream. He was here, before them, with them.
"Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever."
That was how things were going to be. Now that the Messiah had come at last.
How long they stayed by His humble cradle, Dauid didn't know, but when they did take their leave, the shepherds separated, not to return to their flocks – not yet –, but to rejoice and tell of the glories they'd witnessed. All throughout Bethlehem, they laughed. They danced.
And Dauid sang. The Lord was their Good Shepherd indeed!
O Zion, that bringest good tidings, get thee up into the high mountain; O Jerusalem, that bringest good tidings, lift up thy voice with strength; lift it up, be not afraid; say unto the cities of Judah, Behold your God!Behold, the Lord God will come with strong hand, and his arm shall rule for him: behold, his reward is with him, and his work before shall feed his flock like a shepherd: he shall gather the lambs with his arm, and carry them in his bosom, and shall gently lead those that are with young. - Isaiah 40:9-11
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