By P.K. Silverson
© Copyright 2009
By The Author
All Rights Reserved
On a clear summer’s day, when the sun lovingly caressed the good earth with a gentle touch, a fine young lamb born of the spring looked about the peaceful meadow he shared with the rest of his flock.
“I’m bored,” he said to no one in particular. “I’m really bored. There has to be more to the world than this.”
His mother, who was grazing on tender grass nearby, paid him no mind. She was busy crop, crop, cropping her food, clipping the tender shoots off right at ground level with dainty but precise little bites.
Her dyed-in-the-wool friends where all horrified. “Did you hear what that little mutton-head said?” they bleat, bleat, bleated, quite scandalized.
“Pay him no mind,” said the fine young lamb’s mother. “He’s just a child.”
“And sure to grow up as the black sheep of the family with thinking like that,” the other ewes observed.
“I’ll have a word with him,” the fine young lamb’s mother said, “later.” With that, she turned back to her business, which was the same business as everybody else’s.
“Did you hear that,” the playmates of the fine young lamb laughed and laughed as they circled around their friend. “Your mother’s going to tan your hide.” They began to sing and prance, “You’re gonna get it. You’re gonna get it.”
“Am not,” insisted the fine young lamb.
“Are, too,” his playmates chided. “You’re gonna get it. You’re gonna get it.”
“Kids,” the older sheep snorted.
Not happy with the way his friends had got his goat, the fine young lamb shook his tail once and he shook his tail twice. He skipped across the meadow, skip, skip, skip, until he came to a place where the field met the fence near a bend in the river. Beyond the fence stood the tall, shady trees of the vast, dark jungle.
“I wonder what’s out there,” the fine young lamb mused.
“Better you didn’t know,” commented a wise old ram who was drinking from the cool, deep river.
“Why not?” the fine young lamb asked, not meaning to sound impertinent, even though he did.
“As a policy, young one,” the wise old ram said, “I’ve always found it’s better to accept things for what they are. You have everything here you’ll ever need…the bounty of the meadow, the refreshment of the river, the comfort and safety of your family and the flock. What more could you ask for?”
“I don’t really know,” said the fine young lamb, “but I’m really bored. I know there has to be more to the world than this.”
The wise old ram shook his head sadly. “I won’t try to pull the wool over your eyes,” he said. “There is more. But sending you out into it would be the same as, well, sending a lamb to the slaughter.”
“Don’t be so sure of that,” the fine young lamb said. “Our shepherd is busy gathering wool rather than counting sheep. It’s time I stopped running with the herd and found out about the world for myself.”
So he shook his tail once and he shook his tail twice. He skipped across the meadow, skip, skip, skip, until he came to the fence at the bend in the river. With a big jump, the fine young lamb cleared the fence and bounded past the tall, shady trees at the edge the vast, dark jungle.
“Come back,” called the wise old ram. But the fine young lamb paid him no mind. He skipped on, skip, skip, skip, deep into the heart of the vast, dark jungle.
The light of the gentle sun faded as the tall, shady trees grew thicker and thicker around him. The fine young lamb began to wonder if chancing out into the big, wide world on his own was such a good idea after all. Above him, strange creatures he had never seen before chattered after him as he made his way across the lush jungle floor. In less than two more shakes of his own tail, the fine young lamb was completely lost.
The fine young lamb stopped his skip, skip, skipping, not knowing which way to turn. He stood stock still, wondering what he was going to do next. Then he heard somebody crying.
He heard the bushes rustle. His eyes grew wide. His heart was pounding with fear. But the crying continued. Overcome with curiosity, the fine young lamb followed the sound.
He came to a small clearing beneath the tall, shady trees. There he saw the biggest beast he had ever seen. The beast had the biggest mouth the fine young lamb had ever seen. It was filled with row after row of the biggest teeth the fine young lamb had ever seen.
It was the beast who was crying.
Fascinated, the fine young lamb watched as the beast held a massive paw up to his mouth. At the end of the paw were the biggest, sharpest claws the fine young lamb had ever seen.
Between his tears, the beast was trying to pull at something in his paws. But the biggest teeth the fine young lamb had ever seen were far too sharp to get a good grip on the thing in the beast’s paw. So the beast only ended up biting himself on the paw, which looked to the fine young lamb like it hurt a great deal. Every time the beast bit his own paw, he would roar with pain and shake his massive head, which was covered with the longest stream of golden brown hair the fine young lamb had ever seen. Then the beast would cry even harder.
“What’s the matter?” the fine young lamb asked as he finally stepped into the jungle clearing, unable to control his curiosity any longer.
“I stepped on a thorn,” the beast told him, holding his poor, swollen paw out for the lamb to see. “I can’t get it out. Could you please help me?”
“Who are you?” the fine young lamb wanted to know first.
“I am a lion,” the beast told him, for he was, indeed, a mighty lion. “Now could you please help me?”
“That might not be such a good idea,” the fine young lamb said. “I’ve heard that lions eat little lambs like me.”
“If you pull this thorn from my paw,” the mighty lion answered, “I promise not to eat you.”
“Okay,” the fine young lamb said. The fine young lamb walked over to where the mighty lion sat and grasped the thorn between his teeth. Gently, as only lambs can be, he plucked the tiny dart from the mighty lion’s paw.
“Oh, wow,” the mighty lion roared with delight. “That was truly wonderful. You are a brave and fine young lamb. If there is ever anything I can do for you, you have but to let me know, and it will be done.”
“Well,” the fine young lamb said sheepishly, “to tell you the truth, I am a little lost. Could you tell me how to get back to the fence at the bend in the river.
“Why, I’ll do more than that,” the mighty lion stood majestically. “I’ll take you there myself.
The mighty lion gathered the fine young lamb on his back. With a powerful leap, they cleared the clearing. Together, they bounded through the tall, shady trees until they came, at last, to the grove at the edge the vast, dark jungle by the fence at the bend in the river.
“Thank you ever so much,” the fine young lamb said gratefully when he could once again see the peaceful meadow he shared with the rest of his flock. “My friends and family will be so surprised to see me come back with a mighty lion.”
“Farewell, my friend,” the mighty lion smiled and roared. He waved his paw once and disappeared suddenly back into the shady trees of the vast, dark jungle.
The fine young lamb shook his tail once and he shook his tail twice. With a big skip and a big jump, he cleared the fence at the bend in the river to find himself, once again, back in the safety of the peaceful meadow.
“How was your trip out into the big, wide world?” the wise old ram asked him.
“I’d say it was a roaring success,” the fine young lamb told him as he deftly cropped a mouthful of the tender grass, for he was suddenly very hungry. “I met a mighty lion.”
“I find that hard to believe,” the wise old ram shook his head. “For if you had met a mighty lion, your certainly wouldn’t be standing here now. Mighty lions eat fine young lambs like you for lunch.”
“Not this one,” the fine young lamb smiled a secret smile. “He had a thorn stuck in his paw and promised not to eat me if I pulled it out. I did and we’re the best of friends now.”
“That may be,” the wise old ram said, “but a lion’s still a lion. You should accept things for what they are or somebody could get seriously hurt.”
“Thanks all the same,” the fine young lamb said, growing tired of the wise old ram’s tedious wisdom, “but I think I shall go visit my new friend again tomorrow.
“I shouldn’t tell that to my mother if I were you,” the wise old ram admonished.
But the fine young lamb paid him no heed. He shook his tail once and he shook his tail twice. He skipped off, skip, skip, skip, across the meadow to see if he could find some of his other friends to frolic with for the rest of the afternoon.
When the next day came, it was again a clear summer’s day. As it did on the day before, the sun lovingly caressed the good earth with a gentle touch. The fine young lamb shook his tail once and he shook his tail twice. He skipped across the meadow, skip, skip, skip, until he came to a place where the field met the fence near a bend in the river. Beyond the fence stood the tall, shady trees of the vast, dark jungle. With a big jump, the fine young lamb cleared the fence and bounded past the tall, shady trees at the edge the vast, dark jungle.
“Come back,” called the wise old ram. But the fine young lamb paid him no mind. He skipped on, skip, skip, skip, deep into the heart of the vast, dark jungle.
The light of the gentle sun faded as the tall, shady trees grew thicker and thicker around him. In less than two more shakes of his own tail, the fine young lamb was, once again, completely lost. The fine young lamb stopped his skip, skip, skipping, not knowing which way to turn. As he stood stock still, wondering what he was going to do next, he heard a mighty roar.
He heard the bushes rustle, and his eyes grew wide. His heart pounded with fear. But the roaring continued. The tall, shady trees shook, as did the very earth beneath his hooves. Suddenly, the tall, shady trees parted.
Out from between them leapt the biggest beast the fine young lamb had ever seen. The beast had the biggest mouth the fine young lamb had ever seen. It was filled with row after row of the biggest teeth the fine young lamb had ever seen.
It was the beast who was roaring. It was the mighty lion.
Fascinated, the fine young lamb watched as the beast pounced to within a few scant inches from where he held his ground. The mighty lion’s flowing mane swirled around his shoulders as the beast held a massive paw high up over his head. At the end of the paw were the biggest, sharpest claws the fine young lamb had ever seen.
The fine young lamb’s short, sweet life flashed suddenly in front of his eyes. But the mighty lion did not strike.
“What’s the matter?” the fine young lamb asked when he could finally open his eyes again, unable to control his curiosity any longer.
“For a moment,” the mighty lion answered, “I almost didn’t recognize you. But I made a promise not to eat you. So I will be generous and have something else for lunch, instead.”
“Okay,” the fine young lamb said.
He watched as the mighty lion swiped his massive paw across the trunk of a tall, shady tree. The blow shook the tree so powerfully it knocked a chattering monkey from his perch. The poor monkey fell right into the grasp of the mighty lion, who bit the monkey’s head off without so much as a second thought.
The fine young lamb walked over to where his friend sat and lay down beside him as the mighty lion finished his lunch.
“Oh, wow,” the mighty lion roared with delight. “That was a truly wonderful meal. You are a brave and fine young lamb. If there is ever anything I can do for you, you have but to let me know and it will be done.”
“Well,” the fine young lamb said sheepishly, “to tell you the truth, when I came to see you today, I got a little lost. Could you tell me how to get back to the fence at the bend in the river.
“Why, I’ll do more than that,” the mighty lion stood majestically. “I’ll take you there myself.
The mighty lion gathered the fine young lamb on his back. With a powerful leap they cleared the clearing. Together, they bounded through the tall, shady trees until they came, at last, to the grove at the edge the vast, dark jungle by the fence at the bend in the river.
“Thank you ever so much,” the fine young lamb said gratefully when he could once again see the peaceful meadow he shared with the rest of his flock. He shook his tail once and he shook his tail twice, and with a big skip and a big jump, he cleared the fence at the bend in the river.
“Farewell, my friend,” the mighty lion smiled and roared. He waved his paw once and disappeared suddenly back into the shady trees of the vast, dark jungle.
“Did you see your friend the mighty lion today?” the wise old ram asked him.
“Yes, I did,” the fine young lamb told him as he deftly cropped a mouthful of the tender grass, for he was suddenly very hungry. “I saw the mighty lion.”
“I find that hard to believe,” the wise old ram shook his head. “For if you had met a mighty lion, your certainly wouldn’t be standing here now. Mighty lions eat fine young lambs like you for lunch.”
“Not this one,” the fine young lamb smiled a secret smile. “He had a thorn stuck in his paw yesterday and he promised not to eat me if I pulled it out. I did and we’re the best of friends now.”
“That may be,” the wise old ram said, “but a lion’s still a lion. You should accept things for what they are or somebody could get seriously hurt.”
“Thanks all the same,” the fine young lamb said, growing tired of the wise old ram’s tedious wisdom, “but I think I shall go visit my new friend again tomorrow. With a flick of his tail, the fine young lamb skipped off, skip, skip, skip, across the meadow to see if he could find some of his other friends to frolic with for the rest of the afternoon.
When the next day came, it was again a clear summer’s day. And as it did on the day before, the sun lovingly caressed the good earth with a gentle touch. The fine young lamb shook his tail once and he shook his tail twice. He skipped across the meadow, skip, skip, skip, until he came to a place where the field met the fence near a bend in the river. Beyond the fence stood the tall, shady trees of the vast, dark jungle. The fine young lamb cleared the fence and bounded past the tall, shady trees at the edge the vast, dark jungle.
“Come back,” called the wise old ram. But the fine young lamb paid him no mind. He skipped on, skip, skip, skip, deep into the heart of the vast, dark jungle.
The light of the gentle sun faded as the tall, shady trees grew thicker and thicker around him. In less than two more shakes of his own tail, the fine young lamb was, once again, completely lost.
The fine young lamb stopped his skip, skip, skipping, not knowing which way to turn. As he stood stock still, wondering what he was going to do next, he heard a mighty roar. He heard the bushes rustle, but he remained calm and had no fear. The roaring continued, but the fine young lamb knew it was only his best friend, the mighty lion. The tall, shady trees shook, as did the very earth beneath his hooves. Suddenly, the tall, shady trees parted.
Out from between them leapt two of the biggest beasts the fine young lamb had ever seen. Both of the beasts had the biggest mouths the fine young lamb had ever seen. Both mouths were filled with row after row of the biggest teeth the fine young lamb had ever seen.
It was the beasts who were roaring. It was the mighty lion and his wife, the proud lioness.
Fascinated, the fine young lamb watched as his friend, the mighty lion, stopped at the edge of the clearing. But his wife, the proud lioness, did not. She paced to within a few scant inches from where the fine young lamb held his ground.
The mighty lion’s flowing mane swirled around his shoulders as he raised his massive paw high up over his head. “Stop, dear,” he commanded.
“Why should I?” the proud lioness asked. “This is a fine young lamb. He will make a very tasty lunch for our whole family.”
“This fine young lamb did me a kindness,” the mighty lion answered, “so I made him a promise not to eat him. We will have to settle for something else, instead.”
“The hell we will,” said the proud lioness. “Are you a lord or just one of the flock?”
“I am a mighty lion,” the mighty lion said. “But I made a promise.”
“Baa,” said the proud lioness.
“I am a mighty lion,” the mighty lion said.
“Then cut out the sheep-dip and stop being such a wimp,” the proud lioness goaded.
“But I made a promise,” the mighty lion protested meekly.
“Baa,” said the proud lioness.
“I am a mighty lion,” the mighty lion said. The fine young lamb could hear trouble in his voice.
“Our family is depending on you, oh wild and woolly hunter,” the proud lioness reminded him. “By the way, what would your rivals think? What would the neighbors say?”
The mighty lion thought about it briefly, then got up off his haunches and walked over to the fine young lamb. “Sorry about this,” he said. “I truly am. But I have my pride to think about. Anyway, I said I wouldn’t eat you. I didn’t say I wouldn’t kill you.”
“Please be generous,” begged the fine young lamb, sensing he was in quite a stew. “Spare me.”
“I can’t afford to, my friend,” sighed the mighty lion. “When you’re king of the beasts, this comes with the territory.”
Without so much as a second thought, the mighty lion swiped his massive paw across the fine young lamb’s head, killing him instantly. Then, he turned to his wife and said, “Are you satisfied now?”
“Oh yes,” answered the proud lioness. “Quite.”
“Then stop making sheep jokes at my expense,” the mighty lion growled.
“Yes, my love,” the proud lioness said. “Anything you say.”
Together, they dragged the carcass back to their den so their family could dine. The proud lioness took enough to satisfy her hunger and left the lion’s share for their young cubs.
But the mighty lion kept his promise. He did not eat the poor, unfortunate, tender, succulent, juicy young spring lamb.
Moral: It’s easy to be generous when it doesn’t cost you anything.
