THE PILGRIM

THE PILGRIM



Old Albert reckoned it was about 20 minutes until dinnertime. Taking the old chipped enamel Billy can from his lunch bag; he half filled it with water from a lemonade bottle and pushed it into the embers at the side of the fire. Whilst waiting for the water to boil, he busied himself raking the small twigs and leaves from the ditch and from the bottom of the hedge that he had been layering all morning.
Layering is the process of removing the unnecessary parts of an old hedge, party cutting through the base of the long thin branches and weaving them into an impenetrable barrier that will deny most livestock from roaming through to other fields and through other crops to places where their presence is not welcomed. Always carried out during the cold winter months when the hedges are leafless and sleeping, it is a slow and laborious process but one that will keep you warm on a cold frosty day. All the small branches and rubbish removed during the process are usually piled into heaps nearby and burned daily as the work progresses.
By the time the water in the Billy can was boiling, Albert had a large heap of wet leaves, grass and small twigs beside the fire. Lifting the can from the embers with one of the tines of his pitchfork, he removed the lid and sprinkled a spoonful of tea leaves on to the water, set the can to one side, dragged a bale of straw (conveniently supplied to light the following days fire) up close to the embers but out of the path of the smoke, put on the old army greatcoat that he had discarded earlier that morning as he warmed to his day's work, sat on the bale and opened his lunch box. Poring some of the now brewed tea into a battered tin mug and adding a little milk from a screw top bottle from his pack, he settled to his midday meal.
When the last of his cheese sandwiches and the slab of fruit cake had been consumed, Albert poured himself the last of the tea from the Billy can, piled all the leaves and twigs that he had just gathered on to the glowing embers, pulled his old pocket watch from his waistcoat pocket and decided he had enough time left of his break to sit a minute and enjoy the rest of his tea.
As the warmth from the underlying embers heated through the wet leaves and grass on the fire, great billows of steam and smoke appeared and slowly drifted away across the fields. Warmed from the fire and content from the meal he had just eaten, Albert relaxed and watched the smoke as it swirled and twisted through the winter sky. Some of it hung close to the ground as if reluctant to climb skywards and from a gap among the clouds of smoke a figure seemed to appear, a figure in a long pale robe who beckoned to Albert as if asking him to join him in the smoke. Rising from his bale of straw, Albert approached the figure and soon found himself walking across a stony hillside in the company of several other men dressed in a similar fashion.
As the smoke thinned, the sky seemed to darken; until as the final wisps drifted away, the stars appeared, their twinkling spreading a gentle glow across the hillside giving them just enough light to see where they were going
That his companions were shepherds was beyond question. Two of them are carried the ubiquitous a shepherd's crook, whilst the rest carried sturdy staves. From within the folds of the robes of one man, the occasional faint bleat of a lamb could be heard and there was the he decided aroma of sheep around them as they walked.
"Where are we going?" Albert asked the man walking beside him; but the reply he received was unintelligible to him, as probably his question had been to the shepherd. The language is one he had never heard before; full of clicks and guttural sounds; but it mattered not, because the man pointed directly in front of them down into the dark valley below to where few faint lights glowed from among the many dark shapes of the houses of a small village.
Some fifteen minutes later, Albert and his companions were walking the narrow streets between the buildings; their dark shapes silhouetted against the starlit sky making their path seem blacker than ever. In front of them a glow filled the street and as they turned a corner they can see a great brightness flooding from the windows of a small building in a side street. As they approached, they found their destination was a crude construction, little more than a shed that was partly built into the hillside, its walls made of rough mud bricks with the roof covered in some kind of straw.
From the moment he peered in through the little low window, Albert knew where he was; for inside the stable, for that is what it was, displayed before him was the scene of the Nativity that he had carried in his imagination ever since he had first learned the Christmas story as a young boy. There was the Christ child, lying in a manger with the Virgin Mary dressed in blue leaning over and gazing at her baby. There was Joseph, bearded and standing behind his wife leaning on a long staff identical to those carried by the shepherds. The ox and the ass, looking just as if they had been transported from a Christmas crib, stood nearby as did the shepherds he had accompanied down the hill, the snow white lamb now cradled in his master's arms. A scene of tranquillity and fulfilment.
Mary beckoned to the shepherds to come closer to the manger; but as they did, Albert hung back a little, unsure of his place within the group, but Joseph waved him forward until he was standing beside the crib at along with the others.
With one accord, they knelt down in the dry straw beside the Christ child while their leader presented the lamb he had brought as a gift for Jesus. As soon as he had placed the little creature in the manger, it promptly lay down, curled up with its soft nose at the baby's feet and went to sleep.
Taking their leave from the stables, mindful that they sheep were unattended, Albert and the shepherds left the village and moved up the hillside towards the flock. As they ascended, the air grew colder and colder .......... Albert woke with a start.
The fire of hedge cuttings had burnt and low and the pale wintry sun was beginning to descend towards the west. He rose stiffly to his feet and as he did so he noticed that wisps of straw were clinging to the knees of his corduroy trousers. Fleeting memories came flooding back into his mind, half-forgotten thoughts lingered as he raked the unburned to trimmings that surrounded the grey embers on to the fire. They caught and blazed warmly as he turned to his hedge laying again. He had taken longer for his dinner break that he was really allowed but he didn't think anyone would notice.
Images of his dream lingered in his mind, as did the phenomenon of the straw on his trousers, but he didn't mention it to anybody else. Time enough for that.
The days passed and it wasn't until some weeks later when Albert and his wife were preparing for bed on Christmas night after a longer satisfying day of family, food and festivities that the occurrences of that memorable day became known to others.
Albert's wife remarked.
"You know, Albert, that this is the first Christmas for years and years that you haven't gone on about how much he would like to go to the Holy land and see Bethlehem especially at Christmas."
She was totally unprepared for her husband's reply.
"Don't need to now. I've already been."