p. 2 | A Shepherd's Care

International Tract and Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Jan 7, 1886

A Shepherd's Care.

I REMEMBER watching a shepherd driving his flock from Piedmont to the plains of Italy, along a road white with pulverized limestone, and glaring beneath the beams of a southern sun. He was a tall and stately man, in the costume of the country; his large hat shadowed a grave and intelligent face; his purple jacket, slung round his neck, formed a cradle for a new-born lamb, while two others but little older were fastened in his rough mantle between his shoulders. In one hand he held the shepherd's rod, a long, light reed, by which he guided the flock, gently touching them when they wandered or were heedless of his call. He carefully led them on, occasionally pausing and leaning on his staff until some straggler joined her companions, or while carefully adjusting the helpless creature that he carried in his bosom.

The hungry sheep strove to crop the withered weeds and dusty herbage on the borders of the road; but the shepherd would neither let them eat nor rest. He urged them forward, and bleating and discontented they were obliged to leave their self-chosen food, and obey his voice and follow him.

The road here branched off in another direction; the poor sheep saw nothing before them but the dusty path and withered weeds; but the shepherd looked beyond. Sloping down from the direct road was a green nook, overhung by an acacia hedge, protected from the heat by the high bank above it, and water from an unfailing spring ran into a pool beneath. Bleating with delight, the weary sheep seemed to find life and vigor at once, and entering on their pleasant pasture, forgot the troubles of the way. The shepherd watched their enjoyment with evident satisfaction. As he walked among them, examining them individually, he counted them over—not one of them was missing. He had something better for them than they would have chosen for themselves; yet how they had murmured all the way.—Sel.