‘I asked the leading camel drover who they were and what they thought they were doing’

EVEN now, 40 years later, bowed with age and all the aches and pains of a long life on the land, I recall that awful winter as if it were yesterday. And why would I not? For us shepherds it brought nothing but misery. Those who come later, or know nothing of life in the hills of Judea, may wonder what we shepherds were doing spending frosty nights tending our flocks. The answer is simple. Bethlehem was then a prosperous village but for one reason.We had a contract from the Temple of Solomon in nearby Jerusalem to provide each year 500 lambs to become sacrificial offerings. But there were strict conditions.

The lambs should all be male, precisely one year old and perfect in every way. And one more condition, strictly enforced. Rabbinic law required they should have spent not one hour in a barn or pen, or even a cave. They had to pass their whole lives under Jehovah’s sky. This was easy during spring, summer and autumn. But in winter they had to overnight in the hills above the village and that winter the bitter cold had driven the wolves down from the high peaks to the lower levels.

The hares and rabbits were deep in their burrows and the wolves wanted fresh meat. So we shepherds took the nightwatch in shifts. That was how we saw what we saw and it was all very strange.

There was this star, high above us, bigger and brighter than all the rest and it hung motionless in the sky. Those who have wintered in the hills will know that on a frosty night the stars are so bright, so glittering, that one feels able to reach up and take hold of one. But this was unique. No one had ever seen anything like it before, nor ever since. So of course, we saw it as some kind of a sign. But of what?

It came at the end of that month that our Roman occupiers called in their tongue December, being the tenth and last month of the year.

It was all meaningless to us Jews because we had celebrated the coming of the new year with Rosh Hashana two months earlier. And the accursed Romans had already caused chaos.

The governor of all three provinces, Galilee, Judea and Samaria, had decreed every man, woman and child in the territories had to go back to their birthplace and register for tax purposes. For most of us this meant moving nowhere, but others had to travel for many miles, disrupting their lives and causing immense hardship to the poor.

Down in the village, the lights of which we could see twinkling in the valley, there were several families who had returned to register. The only tavern, owned and run by my friend Shmuel, was jammed to overflowing, with all rooms taken. So when at the last minute an exhausted couple who had come all the way by donkey from a village in Galilee, far to the north, asked for admittance, he could not help them. They begged for shelter as night descended and out of kindness, because the wife was evidently with child and near her time, he let them have space in the stable.

He told me all this later and though we did not know it, that couple was the start of all our misery and grief.

But it is easy to be wise after the event.At the time we just shrugged and filled the beakers with wine. As for me, I completed four more night watches in the hills, then had a six-day break while others took over. It was during my next spell on wolf-watch that things became even stranger.

It was past midnight and we were all huddled in our blankets when we heard the approaching bells, as of someone leading animals with jingling harness. But who on earth could be travelling at this hour? We took our heavy sticks and stood to meet them. But they were no bandits, just harmless travellers.

There were three camels and high on each a huddled figure. Servants and retainers came with them, with donkeys and carts, proving they were of high standing. The carts contained warm camel-hair tents, cooking pots and extra clothes.They could have camped in comfort until dawn and yet they chose the freezing night.

I asked the leading cameldrover who they were and what they thought they were doing. Thankfully he spoke some Aramaic but he told me they were all from Persia and had travelled for weeks to reach Judea.

AS TO why, the fool just pointed upward at that star which was still there, right above us. As he did so his master descended from his high seat – to ask directions. That was how I learned some of the story I relate to you now.

All three nobles were scholars from Persia who studied the skies for portents of the future. As a farmer and shepherd, I had little time for mumbo-jumbo, but I listened politely for I knew there were many, including in Jerusalem, who placed great faith in lights in the sky and other supposed signs of what Jehovah intended. But as good Jews, we knew there was only one true God and the pagans could believe what they wished.

The leader of the three Magi explained the stars foretold that a great king was to be born and he would come out of Judea.

News to me. In three weeks I had lambs to deliver to the Temple, and that was important. The rest was probably nonsense out of

Persia. But I remained courteous and when he asked me what were the lights in the valley, right below the star, I told him that was my village, Bethlehem.

He called for pen and vellum and took notes. Then the caravan mounted up and set off downhill for my village. It was later that Shmuel told me what had happened, the start of all our woes. My older son was with me, having brought warm food from the village. I sent him back down to guide the travellers.

The whole three-camel caravan arrived at the tavern just as the sun was rising and they had some very bizarre requests. Not just for rooms – of which over the past 12 days some had become available – but about the other guests. They were very specific, quoting their auguries all the time.

Had there been a baby born recently and most specifically in a stable? One of them, called Melchior, was very insistent about the stable. Well, Shmuel only knew of one, the Galilean woman. She had given birth 12 days earlier. His wife helped with the delivery. A small boy – but certainly not a king. Just the son of a pauper who owed money for rent of the stable, and was only there because Shmuel’s wife was still fussing over the baby, the way women do.

The three astronomers became very excited and demanded to be led across the courtyard to the stable. My son noticed they were carrying some very expensive gifts.

Shmuel then left them to look after his tavern and my boy stayed to escort them into the stable. What happened next, he told me later, was truly bizarre.

These three men from the east, seemingly wealthy and titled, went on their knees to pay homage to the baby in the wooden basket full of straw. The father, this carpenter down from Galilee, just stood with his mouth open – as one would.

The visitors offered their gifts. My lad noticed a casket full of gold coins – they must have been worth a few shekels. Plus a flask of incense and a pot of some unction or other – he was not quite sure what myrrh was. But he noted the gold would certainly