She stood at the edges of the pasture, looking nonchalantly in each direction. To her right the hill stood proudly against the setting sun, casting an array of pink and purple against a golden sky, and to her left soft gravel stretched down into the valley, darkened and cooled by the shadow of the looming mountain. She shifted her feet nervously, keeping Master constantly in her periphery. Perhaps it was mere curiosity that seemed to tug her away from the safe green grass. Perhaps it was something much greater. She knew she only had a brief window for escape, for Master was constantly on His guard, ready to trek after any of His flock that strayed from the pasture. How He always seemed to know when she wandered off she couldn’t quite figure out, but it didn’t concern her at the moment. She perched her ears toward the valley, evermore compelled to learn what hid in the shadows. Master called after her, His voice faint against the breeze, and she bleated absently in response. Her fascination with the valley distracted her from His call, from the setting sun and the clouds that threatened, from all other things. Almost without thinking, she set out at a trot towards the valley.
He watched her as she wandered past the boundary of cool grass crossing into dry, harsh desert. He’d been calling her name loudly, beckoning her back within the perimeter of the pasture where ninety-nine others lay comfortably amongst each other. She’d acknowledged Him with a small cry, a sound so pitiful and distracted He wondered if she’d even made a sound at all. He shook His head as He watched her trot toward the shadowed valley, distressed at how eagerly the darkness welcomed her into its folds. He noted the wolves that hid amidst the dead bushes, their mouths salivating at the approaching scent –ready to ravish, ready to devour. On a heavy sigh accompanied by a peal of thunder, and one final glance at the rest of His charge, He lifted to His feet and quickened after the wandering One.
The skies suddenly let go with an overpowering rain, bursting forth with lightning and booming thunder almost without warning. She couldn’t distinguish between the howling wind and the snarls of wolves snapping at her legs. Turning about frantically, she lost her way and plunged further into the valley, running full speed into the darkness she desperately sought refuge from. A powerful wind slammed into her small, shivering body, causing her to lose her balance and fall where she stood. Too weak to face the raging winds, she lay in the dirt and rising waters, bleating and crying out as loud as her voice would allow. She hoped the wind would carry her sobs back to Master. What if He never found her? What if the flood waters washed her away? What if He had grown tired of chasing her down?
Master! She cried louder, her tears mingling with the pouring rain. Master! Master!
The growls of the wolves closed in around her, and she shook violently with fear. Six pairs of glowing eyes formed a menacing circle, and flashes of teeth reduced her to tiny whimpers of despair. Master will be too late, she lamented. A sudden burst of Thunder sent the circle scattering, yelping. She buried her head in her arms and waited for the darkness to devour her when a familiar voice boomed all around her.
Where are you, Little One?
Here I am! She cried, her head perking at the sound. Master! Here I am!
Lightning illuminated the valley, and He found her half buried in mud, crying desperately against the wind. Her coat was filthy, and her tiny body shook visibly even from where He stood. He eased Himself to the place where she lay, using His staff for balance to kneel beside her and scoop her into His right arm. She clung to Him, frightened and freezing, and for a moment He simply held her, letting His warmth envelope her.
Little One, He crooned, where did you think you were going? She sobbed weakly against His chest, looking up miserably into His face.
I got lost, Master. She sniffled. I won’t do it again.
Beloved…it hurts me to see you wander off. Tears streaked His face and mingled with the rain. He set her down in the mud and closed His eyes as she gazed up at Him, completely unaware of His next move. With deadly force, He struck her left hind leg with the blunt end of the staff.
MASTER!!! She screamed. Again He struck, this time breaking the right hind leg and causing her to crumble into the mud.
MASTER?!! Her cries echoed off of the mountain walls, piercing His heart to bleeding. He raised His staff again to break the front legs.
A wordless explosion escaped her lips as bone cracked, ligament gave away, and blood seeped to mix with mud and filth. Her sobs wracked both their bodies as He scooped her into His arms. She protested vehemently, writhing against His grip, only causing blood to gush faster. Pain and blood-loss threatened to overtake her, and so she simply wept against His chest. Why would her Master hurt her so? Why hadn’t He simply taken her home? What would she do with four broken legs? How would she survive? Would He kill her when they reached the pasture – would this be her final punishment for straying from the rest? Why did He suddenly hate her?
He felt her sobs against His body, and silent, stoic tears streamed down His face. He knew she didn’t understand the pain now, just as she hadn’t understood the darkness she so willingly stumbled into. His heart broke in pieces, but His arms remained strong as He carried her out of the valley, out of the raging thunderstorm, and back to the lush green field where ninety-nine others waited. He sat beside a basin of water and gently washed the mud from her coat and the tears from her face.
Beloved, He whispered soothingly in her ear as He washed her, though her sobbing didn’t cease. She looked up at the sound of His voice. I had to bring you here. You can’t know how much it hurts me to do so.
Why, Master? She shuddered, hiccupping through her sobs. How could you break my legs this way?
Because, Little One. He spoke softly. It was the only way. You needed me to carry you.
In the months to follow, He carried the lamb all around the pasture as He tended the rest of His flock. He fed her grass plucked by His own hand, spooned water from the well for her to sip from His palm. He dressed her legs daily with fresh linens, and she no longer blanched at His touch against the wounds. Wherever the Master tread by day or by night, she stayed nestled in the crook of His arm with one ear laying comfortably against His chest. She grew accustomed to the exact rhythm of His heart, and before long she found her own heart beating to the same cadence. As He taught her to walk on her slowly-healing legs, she found herself unwilling to stray farther than a pace away from her Master, fearing weakness without His healing touch. The staff she once feared now guided her steps and often supported her when she grew tired or weary, and He was always there to pick her up when she had no more strength to walk on her own.
One dreary evening as she lay at Master’s feet, she saw a young lamb not unlike herself lingering toward the edge of the cool, lush pasture. A storm threatened behind the tall mountain, and she, knowing what waited in the valley, bleated for Master’s attention. He saw the source of her distress, smiled, and strolled away to lead the youngster back to the center of the pasture. She waited nervously for Him to return to her side, a shadow of the darkness lingering in the back of her mind. She continued to bleat softly until He nestled on the ground beside her, His hand resting against her clean, white coat. She lay her head on His leg, a warm smile spreading across her lips as she drifted off to sleep in the safety of the Master’s embrace.
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