This is the first chapter of my new book "Second Chance Angel." I hope to have this sent to the publisher within the month. Written for all ages. Inspirational/Devotional. Please leave constructive comments.
Thanks,
Patrick
Chapter One
Rejected
The little lamb was born early one morning. It was the 3rd of April, but it was still raining in Northern California. His mama was Sarah. Sarah was only one year old and this was her first lamb. The pains had started in the night and Sarah had become frightened and disoriented. After she delivered her lamb, she began running around the pasture crying loudly. Then, drawn by her instinct, she went back to the newborn and started to lick him clean. After a few minutes she left him by himself and went back to running around the pasture.
That is how Farmer John found them when he came out early in the morning to feed the sheep. There was Sarah, running around and crying, and there was her lamb, a white and forlorn little wet lump, lying in the mud.
"Uh-oh," thought Farmer John, "looks like we got ourselves a bummer lamb."
Carefully picking the little lamb up, he held him low to the ground so Sarah could see him, and began to walk to the barn. He hoped that Sarah would follow him, but she didn't. Instead Sarah began crying again. She would take a few steps toward Farmer John and then start to run after the other sheep. It took Farmer John an hour to get them in the barn. He closed the door behind them and rustled around in a big cardboard box by the alfalfa bales until he found a rope with a clip on it.
Tying Sarah in a stall, he filled a bucket with warm water and added some molasses to help Sarah get her energy back. He looked at the two sheep, the nervous ewe and the brand new lamb. The barn was more like a shed, but Farmer John liked it there. It was warm and dry and he smelled the alfalfa and the straw in the stall, slightly damp where the sheep were standing. He looked around the barn, taking in the hay hooks on the shelf, the vet supplies in the plastic box that Farmer's Wife used to clean up foot rot and ringworm, and the empty bags in a pile that he had slit open to pour the sweet grain into the big blue plastic garbage can.




