A&M United Methodist Church

417 University Drive, College Station, TX 77840

POIMENA THE SHEPHERDESS

by Reverend Kip R. Gilts

Once upon a time there was a shepherdess named Poimena. Actually, she was not really a shepherdess, but only the daughter of a shepherd. She was too proud to be a shepherdess, but too poor to be anything else. Still the other children called her a shepherdess because they thought it was funny and they knew she did not like it.

Poimena never fit in anywhere. When she was with her father tending the sheep, she was just a child who didn’t know anything. Even when she was with the other children of shepherds she was an outsider, because she was the only girl in the fields. “Go home, little girl,” the others would say, “we’re brave boys guarding the sheep from wild animals, and you’re just a girl.”

If she did go home, it was even worse. The children in town made fun of Poimena all the time. Boys made sheep noises when she walked by them on the street, and girls covered their noses saying she smelled like a sheep.

They didn’t mind making fun of her or any of the shepherds’ children, because they didn’t know them. These kind of children were called “nomads” because they moved around a lot, which most people did not do back then. Most people were born, went to school, lived, worked and died in the same town - their whole lives. Not only did the neighbors know each other, they knew each other’s parents and grandparents. But they did not know Poimena, so they picked on her, called her names and said she smelled like a sheep. Sometimes she cried herself to sleep at night. She felt so alone.

Those tears turned to temper tantrums over the years. Poimena became an angry person. She would fight with the boys in the field and shout back to the kids in the street. She would argue with the grown-up shepherds and tell them they were foolish to spend their lives out there. “I will never be a shepherdess when I grow up!” she shouted. “I don’t want anything to do with this!” She could tell that it hurt her father’s feelings to say this, but she cared less and less as time went on. After all, it was all his fault. If he’d been a potter, an innkeeper, or even a tax collector, she would not be so poor, so outside, so alone.

So this was Poimena. Alone in the country doing what she hated to do - watching sheep, and alone in the city surrounded by people who either ignored her or insulted her. All alone. But that was about to change this night. Just as she was drifting off to sleep in the deep, black darkness of night, a bright light exploded into sight.

There standing right in front of Poimena was the most beautiful and the most frightening creature she had ever seen. It was an angel - a big, bright, glorious angel. She had heard about angels from the shepherds, but had dismissed these stories as the idle dreams of men who spend too much time in the dark, open spaces of the countryside. Poimena could not speak - she could only point and shake, both of which she was doing almost violently. Soon all the shepherds gathered around Poimena falling to their unsteady knees in both fear and reverence.

The angel told Poimena and the others not to be afraid, because there was good news to report. A Savior, a rescuer, had been born. He is the Christ, the Lord. Poimena did not know much about what “Christ” or “Messiah” meant and even the word, “Lord,” did not say much to her, but “Savior, rescuer”, meant the world to her world. This is just who she needed.

She almost fell over when thousands of other angels appeared singing, “Glory to God in the heavens, and peace to God’s people on earth.”

When the angels left, so did the shepherds. They went to Bethlehem, the nearby town, to find this Savior baby. Poimena went with them. This was one time in her life when she was almost glad to be a shepherdess. The others were walking with her and re-living the scene of moments before.

“Wasn’t that amazing?! Poimena, the angel seemed to come right to you. What did you think?”

All Poimena would say was, “I was really scared.” But she wasn’t scared now. She was thinking to herself. “That’s right, the angel came to me. You grownups have ignored me for being a child. Your kids have insulted me for being a girl. The townspeople have pointed at me and put me down for being a shepherdess, but God sent me an angel who told me about a Savior, a rescuer. Things are about to change.”

She continued thinking of how different things were going to be. She would probably be a celebrity with everyone wanting to know about the angel who came to see her and the Savior baby about whom she was the first to know. She started walking straighter and more proudly just thinking about it. Townspeople would speak to her with respect and probably give her new clothes to put on, after the hot bath that they had drawn for her.

Then, she would let them have it - every one of them. She would make fun of those plain people to whom the Lord never thought to send an angel. She would put every adult who ignored her and every child who insulted her in their place. Vengeance was starting to emerge in Poimena on her march to Bethlehem .

She was the first one to enter the stable. She greeted the mother and others standing around only briefly then she looked into the feed trough to find the baby, just like the angel said, “wrapped in strips of cloth and lying in a manger.”

The newborn baby’s eyes met the eyes of the shepherdess and something happened to Poimena that she could never really explain. She began to shed tears silently. One finally made its way down her cheek and onto the swaddling clothes that were keeping the child warm. Again the baby’s eyes met Poimena’s. More tears fell. It was as if all the hurts from years of neglect, name-calling, and never fitting in were expressed through those tears. She felt her anger toward adults, shepherd children and townspeople dissolve in those tears. All ideas of vengeance and getting even disappeared in those tears. When she finally looked up, she felt her father’s arm wrapped around her. She turned toward him and hugged him like she hadn’t done in years. She even whispered two words she vowed never to say, “I’m sorry.”

They stayed there for a while as the other shepherds took their turns looking at the Baby Savior, who rescued Poimena from her aloneness. She smiled - no longer too proud to be a shepherdess and never again seeing herself as too poor. The Savior, rescuer, had rescued her, and she was never alone again. The end.

Amen.

Sunday Worship Services are at 8:30, 9:45 and 10:50 a.m.

Please let us know if you or someone you know is going into the hospital.
Contact Laurinda via email.