There they were, out on the dark hills. Gathering around the fire, keeping an eye and an ear open for the cry that meant that one of the flock was in trouble. Weather beaten, rough and ready types; handy with a cudgel to drive off raiders - human or animal - that might take a fancy to their Master's flock. It was a necessary job, but not a well-regarded one; when they went into town, smelling of unwashed wool and unwashed bodies, people tended to move away from them. Other than that, nobody bothered them, or paid them much attention. And then, in the sky, came a golden light. Dawn? Had the night passed so quickly? But it was in the wrong place. The light grew, a shape appearing within it, and terrified they threw themselves to the ground; and the voice came: "Don't be afraid! Good News! Go into the town, and find the Saviour: the Messiah is born! Find the stable, see the child!" And the light grew, and the trumpets sounded, and in wonderment the shepherds looked at each other as the sky above filled with Angels singing out their message of joy, of hope, and of praise.
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