The Good Shepherd; Chapter 1

 

The Good Shepherd; Chapter 1

© 2025 by Amber Wright

Date: Christmas Eve, 1903

Place: Concord, Massachusetts

The wind was blowing and the air was cold. Ten year-old Joel Shepherd hugged himself as he tramped through the silent streets of Concord.

It was Christmas Eve.

Joel had no home to go to, or any parents to love him. He was alone in the world, living wherever he could find a place to sleep.

Sometimes he slept under the feed mill overhang roof among the stacked bags of feed. Sometimes he slept on the cold floors of empty stores. Sometimes he had no place at all to sleep. He would then sit in the street where the wind blew the least.

Days would go by when Joel had no food. When he was lucky he would find stale buns and old soda bottles with little remains in the city dump. Most days, however, he would work for bits of food. He swept shops floors, dusted the bakery’s many shelves, shoveled manure in the livery, anything he could do to get a meal.

But today, nobody had any work for him. He would go hungry on Christmas Eve, and Christmas itself. Joel sighed. What is it like to feel your stomach filled with all the nice things you can eat? he wondered as he felt his hollow, growling middle.

Joel could not remember when the last time he had eaten all he could eat. Never, perhaps. He sighed again as he began walking again where he had stopped a moment ago when he remembered he would have no food for the Christmas days. How he longed for a juicy cinnamon roll that was perched in a pile of rolls on the bakery shelf in the bay window.

Joel walked on, shaking the terrible temptation away. He would never steal. His mother had taught him stealing was only something terrible people did. And he wanted to be a good person so he could join his parents in heaven someday.

At the toy shop a bright red trumpet stared him in the face from its shelf at the glass window, tauntingly. Joel shook his head. Stealing was wrong. And, besides, someone would catch him and then he would have to go to jail. He wouldn’t want that.

Further on, a new gray wool suit at the tailor shop caught his eye. How he wished he had just that! He glanced down at his multiple patched, threadbare tweed pants and ripped overcoat, and shivered. If only he could have that warm suit in the window...with a nice warm wool coat...and nice warm boots.

His feet below sang the song of the iceberg, feeling like the iceberg itself. They tingled just now, just at the thought of warm comfortable boots on their very icy toes.

Joel smiled to himself, thinking that all these things were impossible to ever own. Juicy rolls, a bright red trumpet, a new gray wool suit, a real wool coat, warm boots...this sounds heavenly. Perhaps it means I must join my parents in heaven this Christmas season...the season they did.

Joel felt something wet trickling down his cheek. He quickly brushed it away, not wanting anything in creation to see him cry.

Joel missed his parents terribly, he now realized...more than he ever had.

Perhaps it was because he thought of being with them again. I didn’t forget them, he thought. I just forget what it’s like to actually be with them.

As Joel tramped through the silent streets of Concord, few passing him as the shops were closing for Christmas Eve, he thought about what heaven was like.

There must be lots of good food to eat, and nice clothes to wear. Mama’s probably wearing a pretty white gown with a little ribbon around her neck, singing with her harp. Papa has on a white robe, like the men in the Bible do, with a bright smile for he never has to break his back working like he used to.

I’d like to wear a robe like Papa, and smile bright like he is now. I wonder how good I have to be before I can go to them. I try to be good, but sometimes I’m bad and do things I shouldn’t like not telling the baker I took two rolls instead of one. I know I shouldn’t have, but I was so hungry. I didn’t think I was stealing, but I guess I did. I’m really sorry I done it for Papa told me to tell the truth always, like Jesus did.

Joel thought all about this as he stopped unconsciously, unaware that he had entered the rich section of town, and that he was now standing in front of a huge beautiful mansion.

• • •

“Miss Shepherd, shall I bring in tea?” Ms. Lowe asked the young heiress of Ease Estate.

“Yes, if you please,” Mona Shepherd smiled upon the young ladies of the parlor, feeling rather fine and gaudy in her dazzling scarlet silk dress trimmed in white rabbit fur.

Ms. Lowe curtsied, “Yes, ma’am. Right away.”

Ms. Lowe walked out of the parlor and was going to the kitchen when she heard a stomping just outside the front of the mansion. Who could that be? She wondered with a little fury. On Christmas Eve at that! It better not be a beggar, or he’ll hear from me.

Ms. Lowe jerked the door open, and to her predicament there stood a ragged little boy with a shock of black hair that needed cutting just outside the gate.

“What do you want, boy?” Ms. Lowe called through the doorway in a gruff uncaring tone. “Poor trash like you isn’t fit to be seen at the gate of a place as wealthy as the Shepherds! Now, get you gone. Now!”

• • •

Joel was startled at such a rough tone of that maid of the mansion. He turned to the woman in complete shock, hearing the name “Shepherd”. Aye, he thought with awe. Papa never spoke of a rich Shepherd here in the city. I wonder what these Shepherds are like.

All our folks, Papa says, were poor and nice. I wonder if these will be nice, even though they’re rich. I think I’ll ask that lady, even though she looks as if she could eat the head of an elephant!

“Ma’am?” Joel began. “I was wondering—are these Shepherds nice—even though they’re rich?”

• • •

Ms. Lowe stared hard at this urchin with narrowed eyes that were set deep into her fat face.

“How dare you wonder such!” Ms. Lowe snapped, angrily stomping her right foot. “You get off of this property this very minute! If I have to call for the Mistress—”

Ms. Lowe was interrupted when a dull voice began asking behind her, “What is the commotion, Ms. Lowe?”

Mona Shepherd was clearly annoyed Joel could tell. “Tea will be served now.”

“Oh, yes ma’am, yes ma’am!” Ms. Lowe reddened. “Sorry, but I heard stomping at the gate and found this poor trash standing there. I’ve told him twice already to get off the place, but he seems obstinate.”

“Call for Butler Riggs,” ordered Mona in a flat tone. “He can’t be too heavy to throw off my place.”

“Aye ma’am.”

“Look at his bones,” Mona snickered, sticking her nose high in the air. “He’s what you call a ‘bag of bones’, isn’t he?”

Ms. Lowe nodded, glaring at the boy at the gate.

Mona Shepherd backed away from the doorway and disappeared into the fine mansion. Joel held his doubled fists tightly at his sides, terribly upset at what was taking place. Poor trash. Bag of bones. They have no right to say those things! he angrily cried to himself, his feelings crushed.

“You heard!” Ms. Lowe shook her fat fist at him. “Go!”

Ms. Lowe shook her fist at him again, a bit ruffled in her brain as two big scared eyes stared her in the face, dark eyes with dark circles under them.

Joel shuffled his icy feet to motion, hurrying away from that awful place. Behind, Ms. Lowe shook off any remorse she had silently felt when those eyes were looking at her.

Something about those eyes were disturbing. It was then, after the “poor trash” disappeared into the night, she realized she had been looking into the eyes of Jesus.

Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as

ye did it not to one of the least

of these, ye did it not to me.

Matthew 25:45

• • •