Alone with the Sheep
The wind came down off the hills of Bethlehem before the sun did. David felt it before he saw it, a low whistle through the rocks, the sheep stirring without knowing why. He sat up on the cold stone and pulled the wool blanket tighter around his shoulders.
Seven brothers were warm in their beds back at the house. He was the eighth. He was the youngest. He was the one who got the night watch, every night, alone.
His father said the youngest got the sheep because the youngest was the smallest. David had stopped believing that. He thought maybe the youngest got the sheep because nobody else wanted to learn what the silence sounded like.
And the silence, the silence was the part nobody told you about. Most nights it was just wind. Most nights it was just sheep breathing. Most nights, nothing happened.
But every once in a while, something did.
— end of chapter one —
The story keeps going.
Read the Whole Book