“Yes, Pekah. And there would be a sign-a sign in the heavens, pointing us to Him.”
Abigail placed her hand over her mouth.
“Jonathan?” she asked meekly. “Pekah taught me about the Holy One. He is about to be born?”
“Yes. When the sign appears.”
Uzziel had been listening. Now able to speak again, he nearly shouted, “And the sign is at hand! It will be given tonight! ”
Hours later, Pekah heard a chatter like the buzzing of bees hanging over the entire city of Ramathaim. News had traveled like a tidal wave. Every edifice in the city that had roof-top access was now filled to capacity with families and their friends. Other homes with patios or gardens were no less crowded. Mothers and fathers and children of every age, the old and infirm, the infants born on that very day, and every other soul, it seemed, had been gathered in by loved ones. All looked to the heavens, eagerly watching the sister suns as they dipped closer and closer to the horizon. A few wispy clouds provided an exquisite show of blues, purples, reds, and pinks as the last crescent edges of Azure and Aqua fell below the mountain tops of the east.
Then, just as the last beams disappeared over the lowest point, Pekah expected the light to wane, but the sky actually began to get brighter. Turning toward the west with all the other anxious observers in Ramathaim, he watched as a suns-rise took place, similar to every suns-rising he had ever witnessed, except for one significant difference. There was not a burning celestial orb present. Nothing was there. It appeared as if a great, invisible glow-stone grew in the west, getting brighter and brighter until the entire sky was filled with a light equal to the sister suns at mid-day.
With an arm around his dear wife, Pekah continued to watch with awe and wonder. Jade, Ebony, and Sienna, the three moons of Gan, all rose close together, three days short of a full cycle when the three of them would actually cross and the expected characteristic face would then appear. Even the moons appeared different. They seemed to absorb the glowing light in the sky, and yet, at the same time, reflect that light, their coloring a brilliant green-gray, a superb reflective coal, and a deep, shiny, scarlet-brown. And the sky all around the moons was blue-bluer than Pekah had ever seen before.
Then, from the southwest, Pekah heard a very faint noise-almost like the slow ripping of paper or the hiss of sizzling bacon. A small celestial object coursed through the sky like a lazy meteor. Trailing a cloudy tail of light, the comet spewed hundreds of falling particles, each of them burning fire-red lines across the sky. It disappeared in the direction of the sister suns.
Gasps, cheers, and shouts echoed all around. Uzziel clapped his hands together and held them fast, as if he had just seen a fantastic production at the city amphitheater. Jonathan and Rachel kissed, holding each other tight. Abigail put her arm through Pekah’s and pulled him close. He kissed her gently on the forehead and told her that he loved her dearly.
As he gazed upward at the celestial display unfolding before his eyes, Pekah suddenly wondered why nobody was afraid. The comet had been eerily close. The source of the heavenly glow was invisible to his eyes. Yet there was not a single cry of fear, nor a comment of worry by anyone around him.
And then it all made sense. He heard the most sublime sounds of music… music and trumpets! He hadn’t noticed it until that moment. It came from the heavens above him, filling him like water into a vase until it overflowed. Unique and pleasant, the music and singing felt familiar, reminding Pekah of a field of flowers or a mountain stream.
And then… Pekah saw them. Angels. Angels descending from the heavens, all declaring the tidings that worlds away, the Holy One had been born.