Afton---First Steps

While we spent lots of time on the road in Europe, we spent more just around the neighborhood. And so it is fitting that you took your very first steps when you were 9 months old, in the hills of Herrlingen. Perhaps you walked early because of my refusal to put you down on the ground so you could crawl. Germs everywhere, you know. You were my first born, and I was told by someone I happened to be married to, that I would walk around with you on one hip and a can of lysol in my other hand. Who, me, neurotic?

One perfect summer day, we had taken a picnic lunch to one of the hills on the outskirts of town, and as we languished about up at the rim, we were startled to see sheep appear at the bottom of the valley below us. Excited by the sudden presence of so many animals, we were amazed to see their Shepherd accompanying them. As if he had stepped out of time, he was dressed all in black, from head to toe. A flat, wide brimmed hat, a long black cloak, a staff. But it was the way he seemed confidently and effortlessly to lead his little band that was mesmerizing. They were noisy and rambunctious, but so aware of him in their midst and he of them, that they all jostled along together, under his watchful eye, his deliberate guidance and protection. An idyllic scene that made me fondly think of the Good Shepherd.

Then you arose and began to take your very first steps. So exciting! Were you trying to follow the Shepherd as well? Coincidence? Started to think about you being in reality our little lamb for now, and what kind of shepherd I wanted to be.

I wish I had pictures or movies of that experience, but I had anticipated only a very ordinary day. The images though are indelibly etched in my mind. I have a very tender place in my heart now for sheep. And shepherds.