E. S. Kraay, Mr.
The night is very clear and unusually cold. We are so near to the star that its light banishes the darkness that tries futilely to extinguish it. A small village twinkles in the foothills to our east. The cry of a lost sheep cuts the night like a blade and a shepherd boy not much younger than I am scampers across the path before us to bring the lamb back to its fold. “Peace to you, brother shepherd,” Melchior calls out. “Can you tell me the name of that village?” The boy hauls the sheep over his shoulders. “That one over there?” he responds with a nod of his head. “That is Bet Lehem, the house of bread. Why should men of greatness such as you travel to Bet Lehem? I think you made a wrong turn. Jerusalem is that way, to the north. Who are you?”
Read this work at the World Public Library (library card needed).