But then the voices grew louder and all I can say is that it was as if the stars started coming closer and became brighter. I thought perhaps I had drifted off to sleep only to awake in the midst of some dream.
It was one of the brightest evenings I could remember.Īt first I thought it was the wind making its way through the small tress and undergrowth. The voices seem to come from, well, the sky. To this day I cannot really explain what happened late that night as I stood alone watching our sheep. For many of those years the staff I used to defend our sheep was not this one but I’ll tell you about that. Over my years I’ve had to fend off the attack of wolves that would wreak havoc on the sheep.
#Now you see me monologue script Patch#
One of them will often wonder off in search of most anything a distant patch of grass…a sound that leads their curiosity to places where they can fall into deep crevices and one of us has to get them out…they just don’t pay attention.Īnd then there are the wolves that prey on the flock. Shepherds love our sheep but we also know how stupid they are. Leaning on my new staff I knew that I must be careful not to fall asleep. It was my turn to keep the night watch while the others slept. But I’m not too weary to share a story that changed my life so many years ago when I first went down into the town. It’s been years now and that eager twelve year old body is now tired from standing watch on long nights. You see I gave it away only to have it returned. A shepherd’s staff is really special and we use the same one all of our life.īut for years I did not have mine.
Usually a father picks the particular branch of the tree from which the staff will be carved. All of them are different and they represent who we are. That’s the age a shepherd receives his own staff and it means you are old enough to have the late night watch by yourself.Įach of us has our own staff. My father gave it to me when I was twelve. I Always Wanted to be a Shepherd.Until.Annual Christmas Monologue: A Shepherd Remembers.
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