What a simple phrase, we have all heard it at one point or another. The Lord is my Sheppard. It has been going through my mind for days. Sometimes I go as far as The Lord is my Sheppard I shall not want, however, usually I stop with The Lord is my Sheppard.
Such a simple phrase, so short, so seemingly out of date. Maybe it is because I have have been in charge of so many animals in my life that it begins to draws a poignant parallel to me.
Each time the phrase comes to my mind I think of another time in my past where I was taking care of animals in my childhood. .
It started with when I was staying on the goat farm one summer with my aunt and uncle. I loved to help the little girl who lived there and was in charge of the goats.
The goats would get out of the fences almost daily. They were intelligent animals and always seemed to be getting into trouble. If there was a single spot in the fence that was week or broken they would find the breach or weakness and extract themselves to roam into the areas beyond the pastures we had put them. Laura was patient and always of a kind spirit. She did not get mad at the creatures, she did not blame them or accuse them of trying to make her work harder. The escape was not something that they did to her but just part of the goats nature.
It was an adventure to seek them out and figure out how they got out this time. If blame was to be placed the blame was on the fact that the family did not have the money to be able to provide to materials to replace all of the fencing to the quality to secure the goats properly. She new her limits as well as the nature of her charges. It would do no good to blame the creatures or try to make them be other than who and what they were. At the same time to get fed up with them and wait for them to come home on there own, as chances are they would as they would wish to be feed and want to be milked as there udders would become uncomfortable, would be taking a risk and do them a disservice.
What if we left them to roam on their own and they got onto the road and got into the way of a vehicle and was hurt, killed or hurt or killed a human? What if a predator(s) found them and pulled one or more of them down. Not only would we loose a source of income for her and her family but also a creature that she loved and cared for. Each one of her goats was named, with it's own personality and place in the heard and in her heart. To loose even one would be a blow to her heart even more than to her families finances.
What does this recollection show me?
It takes me back to what we did. When we found a breach in a fence we would fix it first with all our young 12 year old capabilities so that the rest of the heard could not escape. At that point we did not have to worry so for the creatures that were now safe and we could focus on the creatures that were loose and running wild. With joy and, yes some frustration, we would begin to coax, cajole, herd, and slowly move the roaming inmates towards home. They would try and make a few feints towards other outcrops, to test our resolve to take them home. It would seem that once they had tested us and new that we were in earnest to take them home they would resign themselves to comply and would go home meekly until the next outbreak could be planned.
When we put the recalcitrant critters back with there brethren the young ones would kick up there heals and play with there fellow kids and the older nannies would act as nothing had happened and would return to grazing.
We were just happy to have the entire herd back together and safe in one place. Now we could go about our own games as 12 year old girls do.
Such a simple phrase, so short, so seemingly out of date. Maybe it is because I have have been in charge of so many animals in my life that it begins to draws a poignant parallel to me.
Each time the phrase comes to my mind I think of another time in my past where I was taking care of animals in my childhood. .
It started with when I was staying on the goat farm one summer with my aunt and uncle. I loved to help the little girl who lived there and was in charge of the goats.
The goats would get out of the fences almost daily. They were intelligent animals and always seemed to be getting into trouble. If there was a single spot in the fence that was week or broken they would find the breach or weakness and extract themselves to roam into the areas beyond the pastures we had put them. Laura was patient and always of a kind spirit. She did not get mad at the creatures, she did not blame them or accuse them of trying to make her work harder. The escape was not something that they did to her but just part of the goats nature.
It was an adventure to seek them out and figure out how they got out this time. If blame was to be placed the blame was on the fact that the family did not have the money to be able to provide to materials to replace all of the fencing to the quality to secure the goats properly. She new her limits as well as the nature of her charges. It would do no good to blame the creatures or try to make them be other than who and what they were. At the same time to get fed up with them and wait for them to come home on there own, as chances are they would as they would wish to be feed and want to be milked as there udders would become uncomfortable, would be taking a risk and do them a disservice.
What if we left them to roam on their own and they got onto the road and got into the way of a vehicle and was hurt, killed or hurt or killed a human? What if a predator(s) found them and pulled one or more of them down. Not only would we loose a source of income for her and her family but also a creature that she loved and cared for. Each one of her goats was named, with it's own personality and place in the heard and in her heart. To loose even one would be a blow to her heart even more than to her families finances.
What does this recollection show me?
It takes me back to what we did. When we found a breach in a fence we would fix it first with all our young 12 year old capabilities so that the rest of the heard could not escape. At that point we did not have to worry so for the creatures that were now safe and we could focus on the creatures that were loose and running wild. With joy and, yes some frustration, we would begin to coax, cajole, herd, and slowly move the roaming inmates towards home. They would try and make a few feints towards other outcrops, to test our resolve to take them home. It would seem that once they had tested us and new that we were in earnest to take them home they would resign themselves to comply and would go home meekly until the next outbreak could be planned.
When we put the recalcitrant critters back with there brethren the young ones would kick up there heals and play with there fellow kids and the older nannies would act as nothing had happened and would return to grazing.
We were just happy to have the entire herd back together and safe in one place. Now we could go about our own games as 12 year old girls do.
No comments:
Post a Comment