THE last stroke of midnight sounded from the cathedral tower, heralding another Christmas day. Apart from a few stragglers and those attending midnight mass in the city churches, the revellers had made their way home.

The inspector made his way thoughtfully to the city police station, relieved in his mind that everything had passed off so peacefully. He hated the thought of police cells being occupied at Christmas time.

As he entered the station he remarked to the station sergeant: "Thank goodness we have had a trouble-free night" And was about to enter his office when he noticed a small boy, about 12 years of age crying in the corner.

He gave a glance of inquiry to the sergeant who replied: "He is stranded sir," and went on to explain that the boy had travelled by bus from Hay-on-Wye on his way to visit a married sister at Shobdon for Christmas but had missed the connecting bus.

The inspector looked at the boy and wondered what was to be done with him.

There was no hope of public transport that night nor the next day.

As he looked, a tear-stained face was turned up to him appeallingly. At this, the inspector turned away and said gruffly: "We are not a taxi service; where is that patrol car?"

In a matter of minutes the car was waiting at the street door.

Turning to the driver the inspector said: "Come on Tom, we have a journey to Shobdon with this young man."

As they got into the car the moon, which was at the full, illuminated the city with glittering frost on the rooftops and showing up the great Cathedral tower in silhouette.

Apart from the beauty of the Herefordshire countryside by moonlight, the journey was uneventful. On entering the village of Shobdon, the boy pointed out a cottage which was in darkness. "I expect they'have all gone to bed," he said "but the back door will be unlocked."

They got out of the car and made their way to the back of the house, which was cast in shadow by the moonlight.

In response to the knock the door was opened and the inspector noticed a candle glimmering on the kitchen table.

The doorway framed by a most beautiful young woman clothed in the meanest of clothing but bathed in a brilliant luminous light as if surrounded by a halo.

She clasped the boy to her and in a quiet gentle voice asked: "Oh my dear, where have you been? We were so worried about you." She turned to the two police officers and said: "Thank you so much for bringing him home."

The inspector who had been spellbound until that moment replied: "Oh, it was nothing, goodnight."

He got into the car slowly and without speaking and started the journey back to Hereford.

It was several miles before either spoke then he said to the driver: "Did you see what I saw Tom?"

Tom replied: "T'were really holy sir," then both lapsed into silence for the remainder of the journey.

Was it just the spirit of Christmas or did they see the Virigin personified in that simple Herefordshire girl?

Occasionally the two men have discussed this happening and, although many years have passed, neither can account for the remarkable sight they witnessed on the anniversary of Christ's birth.

It was a truly holy experience.