As the night closed in around us, I pulled a sheepskin around shoulders. The fire dwindled to a few ember coals. Snores and snorts rumbled from the lucky shepherds who had the privilege to sleep. Me? I drew the lot to keep the midnight watch with Luz and Kasiff—two of the biggest story weavers in all of Judea. At least the night would not grow dull.
“Come, Efraim.” Luz motioned for me to move closer. “Sit here between Kasiff and me. We will keep one another warm.”
“I’m not a child. You need not protect me.” The men laughed as I sat on the ground between them.
“Indeed, you are a man betrothed, so I hear.” Kasiff chuckled as he opened a pouch of figs and offered some to Luz and me. We each took a handful.
“Yes. I am fifteen years of age and betrothed to Dvora, the daughter of Baruch.” I spit a seed toward the fire pit. “But she will not come of age for six years.”
“Aw.” Luz nodded. “Waiting can be burdensome. Meanwhile, let us fill your head with the traditions of our people.”
“I have heard all the tales since my youth.” I pulled my fleece tighter. “Frankly, I’m not sure that they are any more than old shepherds’ wild imaginings dreamed up on chilly, starry nights such as this.”
This is a fictional story based on the Biblical account of Luke 2:8-20
Tomorrow, I’ll post the rest of the story.
See you in a twinkling,