It was a longer walk than Joe had thought it would be, and the lamb was a warm, heavy weight across his shoulders.  His steps slowed and ‘Iola’ flew on ahead.  She looked back at him a time or two, and made ‘hurry up’ motions, but did not wait for him to catch up.  It was clear she had someplace to be very soon.

Joe trudged after her, watching the receding figure avidly.  He knew this was merely a very vivid dream, triggered by his playing with the Nativity set, but it was such a happy dream, compared to the others.  He didn’t want it to end.  He didn’t want to wake up and be alone again, without Iola.   He wanted to stay...

That thought made him stop in his tracks.  STAY?  Stay here in Biblical Judea?  No, not a good idea and not an option anyway.  Joe, don’t be such an idiot.  This is a dream, not time-travel.  He couldn’t just stay...unless he never woke up – and although he admittedly had considered exactly that, during the last three months, something inside rebelled at the thought.  Iola made a beautiful angel, but he doubted that he’d look nearly so nice as one!  Joe sighed and resumed his trek toward the village.

When he finally reached the little town he spotted the inn almost right away, as it was by far the largest building in view – and a huge, brilliant star pulsing overhead plus the sight of several winged forms hovering above the attached stable pretty much gave it away.  Hitching Lamb Chop up once again Joe hastened his steps.

He hadn’t considered the fact that several of his companions, accompanied by one or two of the herd dogs, a sheep or two, numerous people from the village as well as the innkeeper and his wife, and several other large animals including a donkey and three oxen, might block him from entering the stable.  He spotted a distant Frank – no, Daniel – in the soft lantern light, an unusually tender look on his lean face; otherwise Joe’s view was almost completely blocked.  He bounced up on his tiptoes, impatient to catch a glimpse of the very special baby – to no avail. 

And then, before he was able to shove his way to the forefront of the crowd, suddenly all the shepherds were moving back, stepping out and away from the stable and pushing Joe along with them.

“Wait – wait, I didn’t get—”

“Too bad; you were too late.  We have to go back,” someone said gruffly, propelling him along.  “Hurry up, Benjamin; we can’t leave the flocks alone any longer.”

“B-but – but I—”  Frantically, Joe tried to extricate himself from the crowd.  He looked back at the stable as he was being hustled away and saw Iola’s angelic form still hovering above the stable roof, her eyes cast downward towards the new baby and His parents – on watch, on guard, doing her important assigned task.  That’s why she had to go, the thought swirled through his mind.  She was needed – here.  More than I needed her...there.

“Benjamin!”

He couldn’t stay, but there was one thing he could do.  “Just a minute,” he said, freeing himself from the other shepherd’s grasp.  “Iola!” he called out.  “Iola!”

She looked at him and smiled, whether responding to her name, or just the sound of his voice – and then with a flutter of feathery plumed wings she was hovering in front of him.  “Yes?”

Gulping, Joe pulled Lamb Chop from his shoulder and held the little lamb out to her.  “Could you – would you take – for the Baby?” he whispered.

She smiled and extended her arms to take it, just as Joe’s arm was seized once again by the other shepherd.  “Goodbye!” he gasped, and felt a soft brush of one wing-tip against his face.  “Goodbye, Iola!”

*****

“Goodbye, Iola...”  With a start, Joe jerked awake.  He lifted his head from the pillow and stared in bewilderment at the familiar walls of the guest bedroom.  He had half-expected to see dark skies and olive trees on a stony hillside.

Wow....I mean, just...wow.

He drew in a shuddering breath and sat up, surprised to see that the windows of the room showed darkness gathering outside.  It had been early afternoon when he’d come to fetch the Nativity set.  He had slept a long time – and what an amazing dream!  Certainly the most vivid he could ever remember experiencing, and he could still recall all the details – the little lamb, Frank’s surprising appearance as ‘Daniel,’ the rugged terrain outside Bethlehem...and the beautiful angel with Iola’s face and voice. 

He could feel the stickiness of dried tears on his cheeks and his nose was stuffy – but inside, the familiar leaden heaviness of his heart seemed lightened just the least bit. 

He felt...comforted. 

Slowly, he got off the bed, switching on the bedside lamp, and carefully replaced the various figurines in the box.  He didn’t bother to re-wrap them, knowing they were just going to be carted downstairs and unpacked anyway.  He hefted the box and went to the door.

When Joe emerged into the upstairs hallway he nearly ran into Frank, who for some inexplicable reason seemed to be lurking there.  “Whoa!  Watch it, bro!  What are you doing?”

Frank stared at him, his dark eyes searching Joe’s face.  Joe knew Frank must have noticed the tear-tracks and the swollen, reddened eyes, but the older boy merely smiled a little and said “Have a good nap?”

“Yeah, I did.”  Joe headed for the stairs.  “Let’s get this downstairs, huh?  Is it almost dinner time?  I’m hungry.”

Frank followed after, a thoughtful expression on his face.  Joe seemed...different, somehow, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what was altered.

Dinner was indeed almost ready, so unpacking the crèche set and arranging it was postponed until after the meal, but at last Frank and Joe settled down on the family room floor to unwrap the figurines, set up the folding stable on a side table, and put everything in place. 

Laura came in briefly to find ‘her’ angel and Fenton’s Wise Man, and smiled impishly as Gertrude’s Innkeeper’s Wife came to light, but for the most part she let Frank and Joe do their customary task.  She too had noticed the subtle shift in Joe’s demeanor and inwardly rejoiced. 

“Have we got everything?  All the animals?”  Frank looked at the little scene critically, then began patting the scattered wrappings, searching for any missed figurines.  “What about the angels?”

Joe counted them and frowned, then began digging through the bubble wrap and tissue just as Frank was doing.  “Where’s the one with...” he started, when his hand encountered it.  “Oh, here she is...”  He stopped speaking, staring in awe at the figurine in his hand. 

There she was, the beautiful angel in the ivory-colored robe with the gold band around her hair – her dark hair?  Dark?  White-feathered wings drooped forward, enfolding her in their downy plumage.  Sparkling brown eyes gazed tenderly down at the little woolly lamb cradled in her arms.  He’d seen Iola with that identical expression once, when a new baby lamb had been born on the Mortons’ farm.

“Wait a minute, she looks different!”  Frank leaned over to examine the angel.  “I didn’t think she was looking at the lamb.  And didn’t she used to have blonde hair?  When did we get a brunette angel?”

Joe felt his throat tighten and blinked rapidly to forestall any more tears falling tonight.  “We got her...when we needed her,” he said softly, and cupped the figurine with its familiar piquant features gently in his hands.

“But where did she come from?” Frank demanded, his curiosity unsatisfied by Joe’s cryptic answer.

Joe smiled as he placed his cherished angel on the table near the stable.  There was finally a measure of acceptance in his heart.  Goodbye, Iola....

 “From Heaven, of course.  Where she belongs.”

The End