The Good Shepherd; Chapter 2

 

The Good Shepherd; Chapter 2

© 2025 by Amber Wright

Date: Christmas Eve, 1903

Place: Concord, Massachusetts

Joel Shepherd walked away from Ease Estate, brushing away the tears. He hadn’t expected this to happen. Not then. Not on Christmas Eve. Not at such a time of giving.

But he had been driven away. No one wanted him. No one cared for him.

As Joel stumbled on into the night he felt more tears slide down his grimy cheeks.

His hollowed cheeks.

Snowflakes fell onto his salty wet cheeks and melted. The cold air blew fierce.

Joel felt all alone...in this dark wintry night.

The street lamps glowed hazily between a shower of snowflakes, lighting his way into the street that led to the business section of town. Where he lived. Where his home was, mostly...among the sacks and crates of the city.

Joel grew tired as his dreary walk halted at the corner of a closed book shop.

He paused to rest a bit before he would go on. Before he would crawl into his cubby hole between stacked crates, hungry, as usual.

Joel breathed deeply, filling his lungs with brisk fresher air before he would go to sleep in his stuffy, dusty bed. The stacked crates just behind the book store had appeared there the few days before and, luckily, no one had ran him off yet.

Joel was just about to make a dash inside his hiding place between the crates when a hand grabbed him from behind.

“Wait, young fellow!” a young man’s voice commanded sternly, pulling Joel out of his hiding place. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”

“Just–just sl-sleeping, sir.” Joel stammered, facing the young man with two big scared eyes.

“Likely story,” the young man grunted and still had a firm hold on Joel’s arm. “What’s your name?”

“My name is Joel Shepherd. My father was Joel Shepherd, the elder.” Joel added with a huge gulp, “I’m–I’m not a thief, sir! I promise.”

Suddenly, the young man exclaimed, “You’re thin. Quite thin! Why haven’t they fed you?”

“Who fed me?” Joel asked, looking up at the young man with the wool slogger, scarf, and coat.

“The Charity Workers,” the young man explained. “They get paid with good money for feeding people like you.”

“They do?” Joel’s brown eyes were huge.

“Certainly,” the young man answered. “I should know. My father pays them. He was the one who founded the institute here in Concord.”

“They never came to me.” Joel shook his head. “Never.”

“Never?” the young man’s brows shot up questioningly. “How long have you lived in Concord?”

“Just before my parents died,” Joel lowered his eyes and swallowed, “five years ago.”

The young man’s blue eyes misted as the boy chewed on his bottom lip to keep from crying.

“Ah!” the young man declared. “The very time my father’s brother died. That’s when his daughter took over the estate. Renamed it, too. It was called Charity Estate. I’ve heard she’s not exactly living up to her dead father’s good name.”

“What is her name?” Joel wanted to know.

“Miss Shepherd,” was the young man’s reply to Joel’s astonishment. “She lives on her renamed Ease Estate.”

“Oh!” Joel’s mouth hung open. Then, he remembered the woman at the mansion a few minutes ago barking about a “Mistress Shepherd”.

“Does this Miss Shepherd have a lady who works for her who barks when she talks?”

“That is what she includes in her household,” the young man’s mouth twitched into a grin. “Have you met her before?”

“Yes.” Joel nodded with a gulp. “Both she and the mistress, just a few moments ago.”

“What were they like?” the young man asked.

“Not very nice,” Joel frowned. “They almost had the Butler throw me off the place. I was only going to see if they could spare a bun, that’s all.”

“I see,” the young man said slowly.

“Oh, but I wouldn’t have her know it,” said Joel terrifically. “She might would have the police on me.”

“I won’t tell,” smiled the young man.

The cold air blew fiercer and the snowflakes began thickening.

“Sir, might I ask?” began Joel and swallowed, looking at the back side of the large two-story book shop. “Did you come from the book shop?”

“Yes. I did,” the young man nodded towards the building. “I was taking care of some business late and so I heard a noise when I was just locking up. So I decided to investigate and here I found you—getting ready to run into the pile of crates to be shipped overseas. It’s a valuable shipment.”

“What is it?” Joel turned to stare at where he had slept for a few days.

“Bibles,” the young man squeezed Joel’s thin shoulder. “Joel, those crates hold the most valuable shipment the world has ever known or will know...for they carry the Word of God. Remember that, always.”

Joel stared in wonder at the stack of crates...into his cubby hole...and realized what a place where he had slept. When he had laid down to sleep and when he had awoke...he had looked into the heart of God.

In the beginning was the Word,

and the Word was with God,

and the Word was God.

John 1:1

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