MollyGreen.com | Spring on the Homestead | Spring 2017 44
Iconsider sleeping in on a Saturday morning a treasured gift from my wonderful Creator. Enjoying one more hour of rest, opening my eyes without the aid of an alarm clock, and snuggling next to my husband is my idea of a perfect
way to begin a day. But that was not the plan for me on this
In my foggy dreams and twilight sleep, I heard the faint baaahing
of a sheep that grew louder and louder until I couldn’t ignore it
anymore. I looked over at my alarm clock, fell back on my pillow,
and uttered with displeasure, “Oh, I cannot believe it is 5 a.m.! It
is Saturday for heaven’s sake!”
While the dawn’s early light was barely touching the sky, I
rolled out of bed, put on my winter jacket over my
pajamas, and schlepped outside
onto our deck.
The morning chill added to my aggravation of an early wake-up
call. I scanned our property left and right and found the problem. There was one lonely sheep to my left who was baaahing
incessantly. The rest of the herd was to my right about 100 feet
away over a hill. This silent majority of sheep stood, eating and
busily tending to their personal needs while ignoring her calls.
Apparently, the lonely sheep had lost sight of the herd and was
calling out to her fellow sheep to find her way back. She stood
her ground, not venturing one hoof from her present position
even to look for the rest of the herd. My anger boiled. There
were no predators, no physical injury. In fact, there was no other immediate need except a failure to locate the herd and the
herd not responding to the call of one of its own!
My frustration mounted as I shouted to the oblivious masses,
“Will someone answer her? Anyone? Just answer her!” And
then I yelled at the isolated sheep complete with dramatic arm
movements, “The herd is right over there!
Can’t you see them?”
Hearth and Home
Ewe, Me, and
Part of the Herd By Beth Mora