Being There

You know, living on our wanna be farm brings some unique learning experiences.  We got to have one of those the other day.  This year we decided to add sheep to our resume.  We got some bottle lambs and one ewe.  Most of the lambs have done ok.  One of them was a runt, #5 in the batch, and weak.  We tried but she didn't make it longer than a week.  Another one got sick really sudden and died before we knew what was going on.  The kids were very sad in both instances.  They had loved on, played with, and bottle fed those two babies.  Then, we had a third lamb who was a little weaker and we were determined to avoid what happened the other two times.  Unfortunately our efforts didn't work out the way we wanted them too.  This time, though, my daughter was out trying to give him a bottle when he died.  She was holding him.  My daughter will be 9 next month, so she isn't that old.  When she came in crying, I knew what had happened.  She asked me to go out there with her.  So, despite being pregnant and having an aversion to all kinds of smells, I got on my boots and went out with her.  The lamb was in a little shed and the other sheep were outside.  She and I sat in there with little David (the lamb) and I listened to her and held her while she cried.  We talked, we cried, and we prayed together.  She had tried so hard to take care of and help that little lamb.  My husband was at work, but he got home about half an hour after this happened.  He helped our daughter bury her pet and again they prayed and cried and talked.  While they did that, I had gotten into a bath.  Well, I'd only been there about 10 minutes when my daughter came in, crying, and said she needed to cuddle.  I really wanted to stay where I was.  I had knots in my back and shoulders and I was finally relaxing, but I knew where I needed to be, and it wasn't in that nice, warm water.  I got out and she and I cuddled on my bed.  She got her diary out and wrote down some of her feelings.  Then we talked some more, cuddled, and she fell asleep.  My sweet husband slept on the couch that night so that she could stay where she was.  The next day she was doing better.  She wrote in her journal again, but she seems to be more accepting of the fact that David is gone.  I know she misses him, but she is strong.  My heart breaks that she was so sad and learned this lesson so young.  I'm glad for the chance I had to be there with her.  I'm sure this won't be the last time something like this happens and I hope that I can always remember that my children's feelings are important.  I hope that I can be a soft place for them to come to.  A place where they can find safety and peace.  After all, isn't that what a mother is for?