“What one approves, another scorns

And thus his nature each discloses:

You find the rosebush full of thorns,

I find the thornbush full of roses.” –Arthur Guiterman

Greetings Dear Ones!

Last night, I spent a few extra hours just pottering in the barn. The evening air was sweet and chewy with the scent of lilacs and apple blossoms. The bugs had all gone to bed early so the animals were relaxed. After feeding time, their tummies were pleasantly full and their heads were pleasantly empty, which is the essence of Contentment for some. I, hungry and anxious, lingered in the deep Peacefulness that is a barn at twilight. I needed a visit with the sheep.

“I was not a very nice person today,” I confessed.

“We love you anyway,” they said.

“Don’t you want to know what I did?” I asked.

“We really don’t care,” they said, burping, bending their knees, and settling down for the night.

“Well, I was pretty crabby with someone who, it turns out, really just needed love.”

“Tell me anything you want, as long as you keep scratching my head like that,” said Little Prim. She is called little Miss Prim because of the way she purses her lips together and always has such a sweet yet sassy look on her face.

“Well, I was annoyed before I even met this customer. During the initial phone call, I had decided I didn’t like him because of the way he kept using my name over and over in every sentence, as if he was trying to sell me something. No one close to me uses my given name—pretty much anyone who knows me uses a variety of silly nicknames.”

“Yes,” they agreed. “Some call you Alfer, one calls you Prance, one calls you Moo… To us you are simply SHE (which is the first half of the word ‘sheep’) who calls ‘Hey Baaaahs’ in a voice that means FOOD.”

“Well, this guy was using my name in every sentence, as if it was a chain he was jerking to get my attention. He must have found that technique in some shoddy self-help-for-hucksters seminar. It was damn tedious pretty quickly. I don’t like being talked AT. I prefer being spoken WITH.”

“We all do,” said the sheep.

“He kept telling me how easy his repair was going to be for me, that his granny could have done it in no time, had she still been around. (There’s nothing I like better than knowing I am up against someone’s more talented deceased granny—who was undoubtedly faster, better, and Free.) Twenty minutes later, he shows up at the door and I look at the repair and, dagnabbit, he’s right. It is an easy repair. Since his item is large, and I don’t have enough room on the rack, I decide to do it immediately, while he waits. He stands around, commenting in what teachers call his ‘playground voice’ instead of his ‘classroom voice’ on how peaceful my space is (utterly destroying the tranquility) and how nice it must be to ‘just sit there and help people’ all day. He made assumptions about my life and business as if he were staring at a wall rather than peering through a window.”

“That’s too bad,” says Prim, angling her head to get scratched in a new spot.

“I just gritted my teeth and felt the hackles on my neck, and tried not to turn into a she-wolf and bite him.”

“You can turn into a Wolf????” said Prim, backing away in horror.

“Oh, I can turn into all sorts of horrible things,” I admitted. Her eyes widened. Chip suddenly looked more interested; his main ambition these days is to turn into a Horrible Thing.

“I got on with his job, coldly and pointedly ignoring his babble, and as soon as it was done, I handed it to him and he could not remember which side of the garment had needed mending. He’d forgotten. ‘Well Nancy, if I can’t find the problem, it must be fixed all right! Har har har!’ The next thing he said was ‘Hey, Nancy, I think I forgot to bring any money with me. I’m gonna owe you some money, right Nancy? Work like this doesn’t come free, like Grandma’s house, does it, Nancy? How much do I owe you? Nancy, can you take a credit card?’ Prudence had had enough. She wanted to charge him five dollars for the labor and five dollars for every time he said the word Nancy.”

“What did you do next?” Prim wanted to know.

“Well, savagely, I just wanted to get him out the door. I didn’t want to charge him five dollars on his credit card because we would take a big hit for that in terms of transaction fees, so it wasn’t even worth it. I didn’t even want to make three bucks off this guy. I said “Never mind about the money. Why don’t you pay it forward and just give your next waitress an extra five dollar tip. Or leave a donation for a homeless shelter or something like that….’ ‘Wait a minute,’ says he, ‘You were only going to charge me five dollars for this?’ ‘Yep, five minutes, is five dollars,’ I said. ‘That’s crazy, Nancy. Nancy, I’m from [a very big city]. Work like this is worth a lot more than five dollars.’ ‘Well, this is Vermont,’ I told him in an uncaring, off-hand way. ‘I say five dollars. Just take it and pay it forward. Be a gracious receiver.’ ”

“Did he take it and go away?” Wally asked.

“No.” I said. “He looked at me long and hard then burst into tears.”

“Because you were so mean to him?” asked Chip.

“No, Dear,” I said. “It’s worse than that. It’s because I was so NICE to him.”

“Nice to him? But you didn’t even feed him cookies or scratch the itchy spots on his back that he can’t reach!” said Wally.

“I know,” I said, hanging my head. “and there I was being almost rude. I just wanted him to go away and stop talking at me in such a loud voice. I just wanted him to leave. ”

“It doesn’t sound like you were very nice in your heart but you were sort of nice in your actions,” said Prim. “Which one is more important?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I think they go together. When our hearts and actions are aligned, it makes us feel great. But I sure have felt crummy ever since. I can’t stop thinking about it. It was the most powerful exchange. It’s really shaken up my whole day. I want to be a good person, doing kind things, but I was sort of a bit of a jerk to him. And it was the nicest anyone had been to him for a long time. How sad is that?”

“Pretty Sad,” they all agreed. “What happened next? Did he stop crying?”

“No.” I said. “He stayed and cried for a long time. He said God had brought him to me for a reason and now he knew what it was, to experience the kindness of a stranger in Vermont. (Ugh! Talk about the guilt!) His nose started leaking and he wiped it on the work I had just done. I handed him a box of tissues and he opened his heart and told me a lot of things about how his god had Big Plans for him, how he was just an ordinary guy but he was being tested by lots of things so that he could be made stronger to do God’s amazing work.”

“What kind of work is that?” asked Chip.

“He isn’t sure. He is young and very strong, like Gus and Otie, with huge neck and heart muscles, but he is still basically just crashing into peach trees.”

“Ouch,” said Wally and Prim together. They’ve seen Gus and Otie yoked together hitting a peach tree.

“He has no idea what God wants him to do, but he knows it’s going to involve a Terrible Sacrifice. He’s trying to be brave about it but he looks exhausted.”

“Well, his god sounds tough,” said Prim, self-righteously. “I’m so glad our god calls us lambs and says stuff about Green Pastures and lying down in them and whatnot… We are just here to love and be loved.”

“Hey, he calls us lambs because we ARE lambs,” insisted Chip belligerently.

“I think that boy was frightened,” said Water Lily from her corner, “that’s why he talked so big.”

“He sounds like the mind coyotes are after him all the time,” said Prim, shuddering.

“Yes, I think so too,” I said. “I wish I noticed it sooner. I feel so terrible.”

“And does that make you feel nicer to him now?” they wanted to know.

“Yes. Only, I worry that it’s too late. He kept saying that he was just an ordinary person being called to do an extra-ordinary job. But he said it like he was overwhelmed and not up for any kind of toil. He just needed a bit of kindness. ”

“What was your advice?” asked Prim. “Could you mend his thoughts or just his clothes?”

“I tried,” I said. “I said ‘Young Man, you need to flip your story. You are not an epic character from the Book of Job. God did send you to me to hear this. It’s a very vital message. Are you ready? His eyes brightened. He looked at me as though I was flaming shrubbery speaking to him.”

“Didn’t he know that is just the Henna in your hair, making you look like a cactus in fire?” asked Chip, butting Wally playfully.

“Knock it off, boys! Behave yourselves,” hushed Willow.

“I told him, ‘Young Man, you are NOT just an ordinary person. You are AMAZING. You are EXTRA-ordinary, Magnificent even. Try doing Easy things, Ordinary things. Just do them well and chill.”

“Wow,” said the younger sheep. “Good job. Did he understand?”

“Of course not,” interrupted Willow. “People never do.”

“She’s right,” I admitted. “This confused him greatly. He really wanted to be Up Against It, Thwarted, Alone, Misunderstood, HEROIC even… After all, he is very Young and very Strong.”

“The worst combination…” sighed Weak Old Willow.

“He wanted to know What To Do Next so I said ‘I’m a storyteller. To live a Good Story, you must do three things. (Things always come in threes in stories.) But relax! You have the whole rest of your life to do them.’”

“What are the three things? Eat, Drink, Sleep?” yawned Prim. I shook my head.

“Dream, Dance, Dare?”

“Eat, Pray, Love?”

“Poop, poop, and poop?” said Chip, mischievously. Prim shot him a dark look.

“No,” said Willow wisely. “Humans need to Hurt, Heal, and Help. For some reason, they all collect a bunch of pains along the way, the way we drag clumps of thorns behind us after being in the briars. Before they can be much good to each other, they need to pause and feel that pain, ask it what it needs.”

“What it needs is a kind Shepherd to step on that thorn branch and hold it down while they walk away,” said Prim knowingly. “It happens to me all the time.”

Willow continued. “Once they know what their pain needs they can start to heal. They can tell they have healed enough when someone else who is hurting comes along and they know how to help. Then they can be Really Happy. Then, they find that they can just be Ordinary and that that is Good Enough. People want to be Magnificent and Tragic, instead of Curious, and Open. She-Who-Sounds-Like-Food, perhaps you weren’t your Best today but you were probably just Good Enough and that’s ok. ”

Suddenly, I felt like someone had just stepped on my branch of thorns and allowed me to move forward.

“THAT, Dear Willow, is JUST what I needed to hear. Thank you.”

I left them then, all snug in their individual nests of hay. Humble and Forgiven, I made my way up the hill beneath a blanket of stars, into a night of Good Dreams. I hope you will too.

Peace, Dear Ones. Keep Mending. Good Enough is Good Enough. Tomorrow is a New Day.

With sew much love,

Yours Aye,

(Alfer, Auntie, Fancy, Prancy, Nan, Nanoo, She-who-sounds-like-Food, or Moo)