Sheep tending - Five Years with RFKC
I was taught to tend sheep, by a master shepherd. I happened to see
him hold one against his knees, smoothly sheering wool from the
animal's body, like skimming a layer of butter off with a knife. I was
memorized how his large hands held, soothed as they removed the sheep's
clothing. The ewe argued once or twice, but gave in and left calmly,
naked and ready to grow anew. The shepherd cleaned his sheers of bugs
and bits of wool against his pant leg. He looked up at me as the sunset
behind him, turning him red and gold and purple, the silhouette of his
face etched in glorious light. He saw me and smiled, but I think he knew
the minute I had stayed to watch him.
His dark eyes knew me, very well. It was as if we had regarded each other often in quiet times or in frightening, shouting times. He called to me.
“Do you want to learn to tend sheep?” he asked, removing his worn yellow leather gloves. He seemed to know all my thoughts.
“I would.”
“Give me five days?” he countered immediately. I hesitated, then nodded. I could do it. Five days learning about sheep. It would be an adventure.
“Prepare yourself then. We start tomorrow at dawn.” He smiled again, as if he knew something, all the “somethings,” I was going to learn.
Day One, I was given a sheep named Spirited. It never stayed still nor listened when I yelled. The shepherd gave me a pair of yellow leather gloves like his, called Gentleness.
“Put them on. You will need them.”
“I'm not gentle,” I said.
“I know,” he smiled. He proceeded to check all the lambs in his flock for vermin, injury, disease or pain. Nothing was missed by his eye, every bur and tick met their end.
Spirited gave me hell and many times I thought to throw my gloves Gentleness to the ground and settle Spirited with my bare hands. Each time though, the master shepherd encouraged me and I prevailed to find a tick before being kicked again or butted by her nose or tail - before being exasperated again.
At the end of the day I was weary and sore, but the shepherd seemed pleased with my one sheep. He had managed hundreds!
“Keep your gloves. You will need them tomorrow. Well done,” he said when we sat on the hill. The wind blew the grass in a natural quadrille, timed to the hum of June bugs and mating frogs. The trees applauded.
Day Two I was given two more sheep named Fear and Anger. Anger continually fought and bit Fear, who ran to me, afraid. The shepherd handed me a rod called Patience.
“I'm not patient,” I said.
“I know.” he said.
I used the rod and my gloves all day to keep Fear, Anger and Spirited within a corner of the field, without hurting each other. Many times I wanted to grab Anger's ears and shake her. Many times I wanted to slap a backbone into Fear. Spirited was easier when I work with my gloves Gentleness, my rod Patience handling her much easier than the day before.
At the end of the day I sat, exhausted on the hill beside the master shepherd. We were silent, viewing the flock. The were corralled for the night, sleepy as the sun, about to retire behind the horizon.
“Bring your gloves and rod tomorrow. You will need of them. Good job.”
We watched the sun set. Banners of purple, burnt orange and yellow rose over our pasture, green and full of sleeping sheep. I went to bed less tired than before, my face burning with his compliment.
Day Three I was given one more sheep named Hungry. Though smaller than the others, she yelled at the other sheep less they come near me. The master shepherd gave me a bottle titled Love.
“I'm not love, sir.” I said.
“I know,” he went off to his work with the other hundreds of sheep.
I gave all four of my sheep doses of the bottles contents. Catching and holding them resulted in scratches, smashed toes, fingers bit and the constant whine of Hungry wanting my attention. She was served last and she took the most. Once fed, she was silent, watching me closely with weird sheep eyes.
When I sat with the shepherd that night, I gave him the empty bottle. He regarded it with a toothless smile, watching also my four lambs settle in for the night. The fading sun filled his face, there were no shadows, no secrets in his eyes. His feelings I knew, as did the sheep drifting off to sleep in their pens. He handed the bottle back.
“Bring your bottle, your rod and your gloves tomorrow. You will have need of them. Well done.”
Day Four I was given two more sheep named Friendship and True-Heart. These lambs frolicked and played wonderfully, but Friendship had a lame leg and True-Heart had a wound as well. The shepherd gave me a knife dubbed Kindness. I was to cut the wounds and apply my refilled bottle of Love.
“I'm not kind,” I said, feeling redundant.
“I know.”
I spent the day administering to my six lambs' wounds. I often tried to put down the knife, thinking my fingers would be less painful, but even with my gloves Gentleness, it hurt them too much. The knife Kindness was much quicker and I could bandaged their wounds faster.
That evening on the hill, I put the dagger in my pocket. The master nodded his approval, his eyes wet and bright. He couldn't contain his smile.
“Bring back your knife and bottle and rod and gloves tomorrow. You will have need of them.”
Day Five I was given two more sheep named Doubtful and Awkward. They cavorted most oddly and not as the others, with much awareness of being watched. The master handed me a belt called Peace.
“I'm not peace, sir,” I said.
“I know. Use it to hold your gloves, bottle and dagger.”
I spent the day caring for Doubtful and Awkward as I had all my other sheep. I now possessed a new calmness and sureness in my actions with all my sheep.
At the end of the day, I sat with the shepherd, Peace at my waist, Love on my right hip, Kindness on my left hip. Gentleness lay on the grass at my left hand, Patience at the ready on my right.
“Well done,” the master shepherd said. I blushed and my tongue was numbed by his approval. “You have learned how to tend my sheep. You have used your tools as I intended. Those eight lambs are better for your care.”
“Hear me though, your herding days are not over, far from it. I want you to use your tools daily. Wherever you may be, whatever you are engaged in, use your bottle Love and your gloves Gentleness. All of them were hard to use at first, right? But you learned a skill I wish all men to know. Use your tools always. Your face shows your disgust, child. You fear mockery in life for being kind. You do not want to be thought weak for being gentle and patience is still hard for you.”
The sun reached the point where it glowed so gloriously, one can barely stand the beauty. The radiating colors, too saturated to be real, the light too bright, the moment so clear I will see that scene always when I close my eyes. Tears magnified the light and my heart too, but he saw that clearly anyway.
“I did not teach you all these things for five days only. What a powerful and compelling human you will be to others if you use my tools always. My tools are yours to keep. Whatever you do with them, keep them with you. You may have need of them.”
7/2011
His dark eyes knew me, very well. It was as if we had regarded each other often in quiet times or in frightening, shouting times. He called to me.
“Do you want to learn to tend sheep?” he asked, removing his worn yellow leather gloves. He seemed to know all my thoughts.
“I would.”
“Give me five days?” he countered immediately. I hesitated, then nodded. I could do it. Five days learning about sheep. It would be an adventure.
“Prepare yourself then. We start tomorrow at dawn.” He smiled again, as if he knew something, all the “somethings,” I was going to learn.
Day One, I was given a sheep named Spirited. It never stayed still nor listened when I yelled. The shepherd gave me a pair of yellow leather gloves like his, called Gentleness.
“Put them on. You will need them.”
“I'm not gentle,” I said.
“I know,” he smiled. He proceeded to check all the lambs in his flock for vermin, injury, disease or pain. Nothing was missed by his eye, every bur and tick met their end.
Spirited gave me hell and many times I thought to throw my gloves Gentleness to the ground and settle Spirited with my bare hands. Each time though, the master shepherd encouraged me and I prevailed to find a tick before being kicked again or butted by her nose or tail - before being exasperated again.
At the end of the day I was weary and sore, but the shepherd seemed pleased with my one sheep. He had managed hundreds!
“Keep your gloves. You will need them tomorrow. Well done,” he said when we sat on the hill. The wind blew the grass in a natural quadrille, timed to the hum of June bugs and mating frogs. The trees applauded.
Day Two I was given two more sheep named Fear and Anger. Anger continually fought and bit Fear, who ran to me, afraid. The shepherd handed me a rod called Patience.
“I'm not patient,” I said.
“I know.” he said.
I used the rod and my gloves all day to keep Fear, Anger and Spirited within a corner of the field, without hurting each other. Many times I wanted to grab Anger's ears and shake her. Many times I wanted to slap a backbone into Fear. Spirited was easier when I work with my gloves Gentleness, my rod Patience handling her much easier than the day before.
At the end of the day I sat, exhausted on the hill beside the master shepherd. We were silent, viewing the flock. The were corralled for the night, sleepy as the sun, about to retire behind the horizon.
“Bring your gloves and rod tomorrow. You will need of them. Good job.”
We watched the sun set. Banners of purple, burnt orange and yellow rose over our pasture, green and full of sleeping sheep. I went to bed less tired than before, my face burning with his compliment.
Day Three I was given one more sheep named Hungry. Though smaller than the others, she yelled at the other sheep less they come near me. The master shepherd gave me a bottle titled Love.
“I'm not love, sir.” I said.
“I know,” he went off to his work with the other hundreds of sheep.
I gave all four of my sheep doses of the bottles contents. Catching and holding them resulted in scratches, smashed toes, fingers bit and the constant whine of Hungry wanting my attention. She was served last and she took the most. Once fed, she was silent, watching me closely with weird sheep eyes.
When I sat with the shepherd that night, I gave him the empty bottle. He regarded it with a toothless smile, watching also my four lambs settle in for the night. The fading sun filled his face, there were no shadows, no secrets in his eyes. His feelings I knew, as did the sheep drifting off to sleep in their pens. He handed the bottle back.
“Bring your bottle, your rod and your gloves tomorrow. You will have need of them. Well done.”
Day Four I was given two more sheep named Friendship and True-Heart. These lambs frolicked and played wonderfully, but Friendship had a lame leg and True-Heart had a wound as well. The shepherd gave me a knife dubbed Kindness. I was to cut the wounds and apply my refilled bottle of Love.
“I'm not kind,” I said, feeling redundant.
“I know.”
I spent the day administering to my six lambs' wounds. I often tried to put down the knife, thinking my fingers would be less painful, but even with my gloves Gentleness, it hurt them too much. The knife Kindness was much quicker and I could bandaged their wounds faster.
That evening on the hill, I put the dagger in my pocket. The master nodded his approval, his eyes wet and bright. He couldn't contain his smile.
“Bring back your knife and bottle and rod and gloves tomorrow. You will have need of them.”
Day Five I was given two more sheep named Doubtful and Awkward. They cavorted most oddly and not as the others, with much awareness of being watched. The master handed me a belt called Peace.
“I'm not peace, sir,” I said.
“I know. Use it to hold your gloves, bottle and dagger.”
I spent the day caring for Doubtful and Awkward as I had all my other sheep. I now possessed a new calmness and sureness in my actions with all my sheep.
At the end of the day, I sat with the shepherd, Peace at my waist, Love on my right hip, Kindness on my left hip. Gentleness lay on the grass at my left hand, Patience at the ready on my right.
“Well done,” the master shepherd said. I blushed and my tongue was numbed by his approval. “You have learned how to tend my sheep. You have used your tools as I intended. Those eight lambs are better for your care.”
“Hear me though, your herding days are not over, far from it. I want you to use your tools daily. Wherever you may be, whatever you are engaged in, use your bottle Love and your gloves Gentleness. All of them were hard to use at first, right? But you learned a skill I wish all men to know. Use your tools always. Your face shows your disgust, child. You fear mockery in life for being kind. You do not want to be thought weak for being gentle and patience is still hard for you.”
The sun reached the point where it glowed so gloriously, one can barely stand the beauty. The radiating colors, too saturated to be real, the light too bright, the moment so clear I will see that scene always when I close my eyes. Tears magnified the light and my heart too, but he saw that clearly anyway.
“I did not teach you all these things for five days only. What a powerful and compelling human you will be to others if you use my tools always. My tools are yours to keep. Whatever you do with them, keep them with you. You may have need of them.”
7/2011
Comments
Post a Comment