When we walked up to the stable, we passed the corral, built with logs and tied together with old rope. The smell of fresh straw was everywhere. And there were other smells.
A donkey stood with it's owner and figeted in the fresh snow. In the corral was a sheep with a thick and matted coat. Three precious little boys stood as proud as could be beside the lone sheep. They were dressed in plaid robes and were well padded ...almost fluffy. Their mittened hands held curved sticks. One of the little guys had very thick glasses on that kept slipping down his little nose. No doubt his hands were so cold and numb that he forgot that he was holding a stick because he moved to push up his glasses and struck himself in the face with his shepherd's staff. He looked like he wanted to cry...but he remembered that he had a job to do. He was to keep watch over his flock of one...like a good shepherd would. So he stood tall and stared straight ahead, holding back the tears.
Seated on a straw bale on the other side of the stable were two little angels. They, too were well padded and fluffy. Their faces glowed with the cold of the evening and their little pink boots stuck straight out as they sat tall on that straw bale. When I moved closer to take their picture, they both smiled the most angelic smiles I had seen in a long while.
As a little choir of church people began to sing a carol, the donkey chimed in with his awkward off-key bray.
I felt calm and at peace. And I walked away feeling warm and happy....and ready!