Just a brief little vignette.

The lamb.

Jonathon sat with the flock searching the sky again as the sun began to sink behind the hills. The previous night, just before dawn, as the mountain frosts began to bite, he was convinced he had seen a strange star with some sort of a strange tail. Then, as the sun had risen, the star had faded with the coming daylight and he had returned to tending the flock. For the last three days, he had been tending the flock alone because the cursed Roman governor required his father and older brothers to report for the official census earlier than the ordinary citizenry. This was because they would be away tending their nomadic flock during the actual time of the census. To meet the census criterion they had been forced to travel across the hills to Jerusalem a couple of months before the winter solstice. As a young boy, Jonathon was not required to attend for registration; his father would register him and he had to stay with the flock to tend the animals. It meant however he was alone in the high snow touched mountains.

He did not mind being alone, in fact, apart from the danger from wild beasts, he actually preferred to be alone. Not exactly alone though, for he also had six big friendly dogs to keep him warm and protect the flock. There was also the small fire that kept the wild beasts away.

When he was alone Jonathon could pretend the fire was a hearth and he was keeping his little house clean. Looking after the fire in his pretend life was Jonathons’ big secret. If the priests or even his own brothers and father ever learned of his deepest wishes there was no knowing what they would do. He had heard the priests always preaching about that which men must do and that which women must do so he knew there was no way out of his trap.

That night though, he was able to distract himself by looking to see if the strange star would re-appear again. To his chagrin, just after the sun had set, a snow shower arrived and blocked out the sky and its stars. The storm's darkness also meant he had to forego the welcoming warmth of the fire and check that the flock was alright. Snow could be dangerous if the flock got blocked in and the snow flurries hid the wild beasts who stalked the perimeter.

The dogs were also reluctant to leave the fires’ warmth but, like Jonathon, they had a job to do. As the first flakes flurried around the rocks, Jonathon took up his crook and his spear and tried picking his way through the stygian darkness. After a few steps, he realised without any starlight he was totally blind. It was hopeless trying to check the flock without light. He had to return to pick a fire brand from the little camp-fire. Then he had a dilemma ... Should he carry the crook to tend the sheep or the spear to protect himself and the flock from any wild beasts?

He felt like a mother deciding what was best for her family and that seemingly 'maternal' indecision gave him a warm feeling. He eventually chose the spear, there was no sorting required because the flock would be bunched to benefit from their collective warmth to resist the cold. It was but a few steps around the rocks to the little hollow and Jonathon found the flock peacefully lying down in a tight huddle. It was impossible to count them in the flickering light so she carefully walked around them to check everything else was as it should be. No wild beasts lurking in the cover of the snow storm.

Then he heard it; the feeble, high-pitched bleat of a new-born lamb.

The sound puzzled him at first because Jonathon knew it was the wrong time of year for lambing. The lambing season came in another few months, after the winter frosts and snows were departed. Thus, for a few moments, he couldn’t believe his ears.

‘Perhaps it was some other baby animal,’ he thought, but he was hard pressed to think of another animal that made a noise like a lamb in mid-winter. Then the lamb bleated again and Jonathon finally knew it was a new addition to the flock ... even if it was completely out of season.

‘Must be a miracle,’ he thought.

Carefully he moved amongst the flock so as not to disturb them until he found the anachronistic mother and her lamb. She was lying on her side struggling to bear a second lamb and the first lamb was already beginning to suffer from the lack of normal maternal attentions and the bitter cold. The mother was still in the rigours of her second labour and could not attend to the freezing, womb-wet, first born.

Despite his youth, Jonathon knew exactly what to do. Firstly attend to the mother.

He knelt down, gathered the first-born into his thick outer fleece-coat to keep it warm whilst he attended to the second delivery. The second lamb duly appeared and the mother quickly recovered. Jonathon knelt quietly smiling while he waited for the ewe to start suckling then, to his dismay, he realised she was rejecting the first-born lamb.

‘Maybe, it’s my smell on the lamb before she licked it clean,’ he sighed as he gathered up the rejected lamb and returned to the camp-fire. There he wrapped the lamb in a blanket, laid it by the fire and returned to the ewe. He knew he had to milk the ewe of some colostrum if the lamb was have any chance of survival. It was an easy task to reassure the new mother ewe, for Jonathon was the most familiar shepherd to the flock. He was the youngest son who had to simply keep constant watch while his father and older brothers attended to all the other, more responsible duties ... like managing the flock, selling the meat in the towns, protecting the flock and locating fresh grazing and water. Consequently Jonathon moved amongst the flock easily and without disturbing it. The sheep knew him well for he was in almost constant attendance.

He returned with the necessary colostrum milk and took an artificial teat fashioned out of leather to feed the lamb. It drank greedily, and within a few days, the lamb was thriving.

When the men returned they congratulated him on having protected the sheep and actually having increased the flocks’ size. Jonathons’ breast swelled with pride and he gave the lamb a name to celebrate its coincidence with the strange star that was growing daily brighter in the heavens.

Each morning the nomadic family and their flock moved towards the north until they came close to a tiny town called Bethlehem built on a hill. below the town they found some good pasture and older brothers went with their father into the town to negotiate some grazing rights in exchange for some slaughtered sheep. Jonathon was again left to mind the flock.After the family had negotiated grazing concessions for slaughtered sheep, they returned to inform Jonathon that his young pet ram was included in the deal.

Jonathon was horrified! His father explained that the pet tup-lamb took a lot of caring because Jonathon had to feed it frequently. Additionally, as a pure and ‘unsoiled’ young male animal, so it was a perfect present to the local priests for the sacrifice at the winter solstice. Jonathon was mortified but there was nothing he could do. He burst into tears and ran off to give his pet one last desperate cuddle.

The father and brothers were not heartless beasts and they recognised Jonathon's tears so when they arrived at the village, they left him alone with the lamb on the outskirts of the town. Jonathon settled beside the road near an inn while his father and brothers went into town to complete the deal.

As Jonathon sat weeping with his lamb, a couple plodded by looking for lodgings for the night. The woman sat upon an ass while her husband carefully led the animal. It was obvious the woman was heavily pregnant and they were so preoccupied with finding lodgings for the mother-to-be that the couple initially ignored Jonathon until the man asked for help.

“Shepherd boy. Do you know of any lodgings available?”

Jonathon knew the town was bursting at the seams with families returning to their origins to complete the Roman census while the mid-winter solstice feast coincided with the census. The little town was jammed full and every bed was taken. He wagged his head regretfully for he could offer no solution. The man sighed wearily, turned to his heavily pregnant wife and informed her he would try one last time at the inn.

Jonathon watched as the man approached the inn to ask for a room. He did not hear the discussion but the man returned to his wife, who was now in the throes of labour.

As she gasped her agony, the man spoke to Jonathon with tears in his eyes.

“The inn-keeper has no rooms and his prices are too high anyway. We must keep moving.”

Jonathon heard these words and felt sorry for the mother. As she groaned and panted in her labour, Jonathon could see she was very near her time. It did not do to move pregnant animals when they were about to give birth and he supposed the same applied to women. Jonathon had attended plenty of lambings and knew fully of the dangers and pains associated with birth. He had seen many sheep die in labour. It seemed the couple needed more money to pay for a room because of the inflated prices. Jonathon stepped forward respectfully.

“Excuse me sir, did I hear you say the rooms were too expensive?”

The man nodded and prepared to lead the woman and their ass away. Jonathon destrained them.

“Wait a minute sir. Will not the in-keeper be wanting a sheep for the Winter Solstice festival?”

“I suppose he will. I’m sure the inn will be holding a feast for the residents. Now I’m desperate to find lodgings for my wife, I must be gone.”

Jonathon looked at the distressed moither and caught her desperate gaze. She cant go any further like that! He thought as he spoke respectfully again to the father

“I think I may have a solution sir. One moment, please sir, please wait. Be patient. Your lovely wife looks all in.”

The man hesitated impatiently but Jonathon was already hammering on the inns’ door.

The inn-keeper answered again and Jonathon quickly made a deal.

“If you give this man and his wife a room, I can pay for it with a fine fat sheep from my part of our family's flock.”

The inn-keeper looked down and smiled.

“Well that’s a very kind gesture lad, but truly, my inn is full to bursting. This confounded Roman census has completely messed up the winter-solstice festivities.”

Jonathon became slightly agitated but he supressed his frustration as he pressed the pregnant mother's case.

“Have you nowhere for the woman sir? She’s about to drop her child. Please sir!” Jonathon pleaded.

The inn-keeper hesitated then relented. He was not a cruel man but his inn was truly full to bursting.

“Well, I suppose so, there's one option, there’s a room in the stables. We keep tack and fodder there. The animals are in the next room. At a push, she could sleep there for the night. It’s not too dirty.”

“Thank you sir! Thank you, thank you! I could help clean it.” Jonathon offered. “I’m only waiting for my father and brothers to return from the town.”

“Did you say you’d pay for it with a sheep?”

“Yes sir, but not this one." Jonathon hugged his pet tup lamb. "He’s reserved for the temple. I’ll leave him here as security and get one from the flock.”

The inn-keeper smiled. The young shepherd boy had impressed him.

“You’re a very godly boy but then you sheepherders are always honest people and welcome in the town. Very well boy. Tell the man and his young wife of the deal, I’ll hold your precious lamb while you get another sheep. Make sure it’s a ram mind. You know the rules for the sacrifice.”

Jonathon grinned at his success at negotiating a deal and he replied to the innkeeper.

“I know the difference between a ewe and a ram sir. I am a shepherd boy after all.”

With a successful deal negotiated, he had demonstrated to himself that he was capable of trading and dealing. He trotted happily accross the road to tell the couple.

The couple thanked him profusely for his help and the heavily pregnant mother smiled as she reached out to kiss his forehead.

“You are a truly godly boy. What is your name?"

"Jonathon ma-am. Jonathon the shepherd boy."

"Well truly I thank you Jonathon. This act will not go unrewarded.”

Jonathon bit his lip and filled up as he considered the mother's words. There was only one reward that would ever be of use to him and that could never, ever be. He dashed off to collect a fat young ram from his portion of the flock whilst using the opportunity to hide his tears.

When he returned he found the stable door ajar and the woman crying in pain. She was actually starting the birth while her husband looked on wistfully and uselessly. Jonathon wagged his head disbelievingly.

‘Didn’t the stupid man know of anything to do with childbirth?” He asked himself.

He deposited the ram with the inn-keeper, cleaned himself up, then returned to the stable door. The baby was being born at that very moment. The helpless father was offering useless words of comfort while the mother cried and cursed in her birth pains. Jonathon could see that despite his young age, he was the only person there who had experience of birth, the father was hopelessly inexperienced and the mother was obviously a first time mother because there were no other children around.

Softly, he entered the stable and approached the mother whilst reassuring the father. He looked down and found the mother's body ready in every respect to bring forth life.

“How close are the spasms?” He asked the mother.

She cursed and replied.

“They are close, and they hurt! Damn they hurt! Ooow-oo!"

“You must keep pushing. I have washed my hands in the inn.”

The prospective father protested a little angrily.

“Washed your hands. Why wash your hands? My wife is not dirty, she is not diseased, she is high born!”

Jonathon was too preoccupied to argue for he could see the crown of the new baby's head just beginning to appear. As he bent down to help he just shrugged the reply over his shoulder.

“I am not washing because your wife is dirty; I am washing because I am unclean. I don’t know why, but if a sheep is going hard with it and we help, they survive better if we wash everything.”

“A sheep!” The husband almost screeched. “A sheep! Is that all you know about ... sheep!?

“Do you see anybody here with any better knowledge sir? Please go and get some more water, I can see the baby’s head. Push again mother, push hard. Just a couple of pushes now!”

Between pants and grunts the mother gasped.

“It’s Mary, my name’s Mary!”

“Well Mary, keep pushing. That’s it, now take a rest. The head is almost through. Now push again, hard!”

The young mother cursed in pain again.

“I am bloody pushing you bitch! Just you wait!”

Jonathon was startled by her term of address not the abusive nature of the word 'bitch' but the gender. And what did she mean ... just you wait? He hesitated for a second then concluded the woman was confused. Normally women attended to births but in this instance there were no women around. The inn-keepers’ wife was overwhelmed with a crowded inn. Then events overtook his thoughts as the baby’s head appeared in its entirity. He gently supported the head as the mother released a scream agonised relief. Softly Jonathon encouraged her.

“The baby's head is out. You’ve done the hard part. Are you up to pushing the shoulders out?”

Mary was about to curse the young helper kneeling between her legs but instead her body took control again. She let out another involuntary cry and pushed again. The baby's shoulders appeared and Jonathon gently eased the rest of the infant free of the mother's loins. At that critical moment the father reappeared with hot water and some cloths.

Thank god! Thought Jonathon as he gently tapped the baby's back. He's good for something then!
He continued tapping the babys' back and chest until there was a soft gurgle and fluid escaped the baby's mouth and lungs. Then the baby let out a high pitched wail and Jonathon sighed with relief. It was much easier with sheep, he thought ruefully.

Jonathon took some of the cloths, dipped them in the hot water and gently wiped the baby as it screamed its protests. Finally the baby's face was clean and Jonathon held it in his arms whilst secretly savouring a moment that he would never, ever get to enjoy. Reluctantly he handed the baby to Mary whilst taking care not to rip the chord that he had not yet cut. Mary smiled at Jonathon who smiled back and they shared that wonderful moment even as the father asked impatiently of the childs’ sex.

Jonathon said nothing for he was brutally aware of mistakes being made in that quarter. He simply held the baby for Mary to see then gently laid the baby on Marys’ breasts. The baby immediately attached himself to his mothers' breast as the father asked again.

“I asked is it a boy or a girl?”

Mary looked down, smiled as she fingered her babys’ tiny organs then spoke wearily to her husband.

“It’s a boy dear. A lusty, greedy boy”

Reluctantly, Jonathon intervened again though he was loath to interrupt that precious moment between the new parents. Eventually the baby's cries subsided. Jonathon was now certain the infant was healthy.

“I’m so sorry to interfere Mary, but I’ve got to cut the chord. I must first wash my shepherds’ knife.”

The father carefully balanced the hot water bowl on a sheaf of corn and Jonathon washed his knife. He then tied off the chord and cut between the knots. Finally, he looked up at the father whilst holdin back the bitter tears that fought to burst from his eyes.

“You appear to have a son sir. He seems to be healthy for he has cried and now he lies contentedly upon his mothers’ breasts and he feeds well. I must go now, my brothers and father will be wondering where I am.”

Mary the mother looked up with surprise at the boy's impatience to be gone at such a special moment. Despite the pain, she spoke softly as she smiled.

“Wait awhile shepherd boy. You have served me and my husband well today. There is a tradition in our tribe for we hail from King David. They say the first stranger to be touched by a newborn baby of our tribe will be blessed. Would you like my baby to touch you?”

Once again Jonathon started to fill with tears. He had just witnessed that most blessed of miracles that he knew he could never, never share ... a mother giving birth. He half turned to leave and hide his tears but the mother Mary seemed to sense something. She called again softly.

“Tarry awhile shepherd boy. Let him touch you. My child is special. You will not understand Jonathon, but my child is very special. Let him touch you. Place your finger in his hand.”

Jonathon paused, hesitated fearfully then shrugged and asked himself.

“What harm could come of that? Why shouldn't he let a newborn baby touch him to please some woman’s tribal traditions? It couldn’t hurt and his awful life couldn’t get any worse. There was nothing anybody could do to heal his pain.”

Nervously, he extended his hand but his courage failed him and he withdrew it again as he turned his tears away from the light and offered up a silent, private prayer.

It was a prayer that was utterly blasphemous in Judaic eyes, but a prayer so vital to Jonathon, that even the certainty of death would not have prevented him from silently offering it up to whatever cruel god had afflicted him. It was a silent, secret prayer that he offered up every night and yet he had never been punished or blessed for all its daily offering.

‘What harm could come of it? A newborn child can’t possibly harm me ... can it? But then, what good could it do me?” He argued with himself as he picked up his precious lamb and prepared to leave. Then he changed his mind and concluded there was nothing to lose by indulging the mother her wish. Turning again, he reached out tentatively with his other hand and felt the tiny hand curl around his finger as it sent a jolt tingling up his arm. The glow swirled around his body then started to gather in his loins as his pet lamb twitched and struggled in his other arm. The sensation startled Jonathon and he became frightened as the strange heat burned in his loins. He let out a wail of uncertain torment and stumbled fearfully from the stable right into the hands of his father and brothers. His father saw the tears and asked him.

“What’s wrong lad. I’ve just spoken to the inn-keeper. Is everything alright? Is the baby alright?”

Jonathon just managed to blurt out his words.

“Yes, the baby's fine! It’s a little boy, isn’t that what everybody always wants?”

As he turned to run and hide his tears, Jonathon's father gripped him gently by the shoulders and whispered.

“Not necessarily lad. I’d have loved at least one daughter. Especially since Esther your mother died.”

“Yeah. Well what will be will be.” Jonathon wailed as he hugged his pet lamb and stumbled away to tend the flock. The mention of his dead mother only served to compound his despair.

His older brothers turned to their father as they watched their younger sibling stumbling away.

“What’s got into him dad?”

Jonathon’s father watched the child stumbling hurriedly along the road and wondered as he turned to his sons.

“I don’t know boys. Something special happened here tonight. Look at the strange glow coming from that stable. Let’s go and look.”

Back amongst the sheep with the pet lamb and the dogs, Jonathon relit the fire and started to prepare some food for his family. He didn't mind cooking for his father and brothers and they appreciated his having taken on the womans' duties since the sad loss of their mother. Jonathon knew they would be back soon and they were always hungry. Later, as he sat cooking the food and savouring the warm glow of the fire he heard his brothers returning and he turned to meet them.

“Is the baby alright.” He asked his oldest brother.

His brother nodded and rested his protective hand on the seated boys' shoulder.

“Aye. Dad is still there. You did a good thing tonight Jonathon. The child's father and the innkeeper are singing your praises all about the town. We’ll be able to stay here a few weeks thanks to your good deeds. The townsfolk have said we can stay for a couple of months and that means we have got good grazing for the worst winter months. Apparently the babys’ mother is better connected than the inn-keeper first thought. They want to speak to you again tomorrow."

“Dunno’ about that.” Jonathon mumbled. “I feel a bit strange and my tummy hurts. I think I may be sickening for something.”

“Don’ worry little brother. You’ve earned your rest tonight. We’ll guard the flock.”

Jonathon fell silent. He was tired and desperately wanted to sleep.

During the night, three more visitors came to attend the child in the stable and Jonathon's father spoke with them at length. At dawn, he returned to the flock a different man, only to find his younger son still unusually asleep. The older brothers explained to their father.

“We couldn’t wake him dad, he sleeps like a stone. It's not like him. He's sickening for something.”

“Let the child sleep. When she wakes, call for me.”

The bothers exchanged puzzled looks as they wondered at their father's use of the female pronoun.

“She, father? Why she? This is Jonathon we speak of.”

“I know, but you will be enlightened shortly.”

The older brothers exchanged more puzzled glances and shook their heads as their father grimaced at the badly cooked food the older brothers had prepared. Jonathon was unanimously considered to be the family's cook since their mother Esther hasd died.

Later, as the weak winter sun reached its highest, Jonathon awoke to find his father sitting beside his crude bed of blankets and sheep fleeces. The pet lamb lay curled up beside him and he blinked sleepily up at his dad. Then the dawning hit him. The sun was at its zenith! Jonathon sat up in panic.

“Oh my God! I’m sorry dad, I must have overslept!”

His father smiled and looked down at his youngest child.

“Don’t get up child, rest awhile, rest and just check yourself.”

“What d’you mean?”

“Just check yourself my child. D’you feel a need to relieve yourself?”

“Well yes, of course. I always do when I wake up. Why d’you ask?” Jonathon replied as his fingers strayed curiously to his modesty. Then he gasped.

“Oh my God! I'm ... Dad! help me, I'm .. I'm!“

His father rested a gentle hand on Jonathon's shoulder to restrain him.

“I know what you are my child. Don't be frightened. Late last night, whilst I was at the inn, the three visitors told me in confidence. They told me everything. That child was very, very special. You know that strange star; well those men have travelled many, many miles using it as the pointer. They told me of your secret lifelong wish, I'm so sorry, I never knew. They also told me to tell nobody of your miracle or you might endanger the newborn child.

Jonathon felt his changed secret parts then lay frozen with fear before asking in a nervous whisper."

"Are you not ashamed of me father?"

"Not at all dear child. Those three visitors were very wise and they explained everything to me. It seems you are very special because you are the recipient of the baby's first miracle and that makes you very, very special."

His father knelt down and kissed Jonathons' forehead as he whispered again.

“Now go behind that rock and relieve yourself. Be modest about it. I will explain to your brothers.”

Jonathon scuttled behind the rock and found she had to squat to relieve herself. However, there were no shrieks of joy, no wild jigs of celebration ... just a deep, tearful sigh of utter, immeasurable relief followed by silent tears of profound, thankful, joy. Joanne was whole!

Strangely, so was her pet lamb and therefore safe from sacrifice.

Author's note.

If you want to comment, by all means do so, I don't much expect them any more, I'm becoming too cynical.

If you've got any religious qualms about this story, then tough!