The Wolf and the Lamb

Once upon a time, a Wolf was wandering through the hills. He had not eaten for days and was very hungry. His stomach growled like a thunderstorm. “I need food,” he muttered, sniffing the air. “I need something tender and juicy.” He came to a crystal-clear stream that flowed down from the mountains. There, standing in the water, was a little Lamb. She had strayed away from her flock. She was drinking the cool water, unaware of any danger. The Wolf’s eyes lit up. “Aha! Lunch!” he thought. He wanted to eat her, but he felt he needed an excuse to justify his violence. He wanted to make it look like he was in the right. He walked upstream (higher up the river) and glared at the Lamb.

“Hey, you!” shouted the Wolf. “How dare you!” The Lamb looked up, startled. “Me, sir?” “Yes, you!” growled the Wolf. “You are muddying my drinking water! You are stirring up the dirt with your hooves, and now I cannot drink. I will punish you for this!” The little Lamb trembled, but she spoke the truth. “But sir,” she pleaded softly. “That is impossible. Look, I am standing downstream from you. The water flows from you to me. If anyone is making the water dirty, it would be flowing to me, not you.”

The Wolf paused. She was right. His excuse was silly. He growled again, trying to find another reason. “Well,” he snapped, “Seven months ago, I remember you! You called me bad names behind my back. You insulted me!” The Lamb looked confused. “Sir,” she said gently. “That is also impossible. I am only three months old. Seven months ago, I was not even born.”

The Wolf ground his teeth. He was losing the argument, and it made him even angrier. “If it wasn’t you, it was your father!” he barked. “Or your mother! It’s all the same to me. You sheep are all disrespectful, and I am going to teach you a lesson!” He crouched low, getting ready to pounce. “I don’t need a reason to eat my dinner!” he roared.

The poor Lamb closed her eyes, thinking it was the end. But just as the Wolf leaped—WHACK! A heavy wooden staff hit the Wolf right on his nose. “Yowwww!” yelped the Wolf. He fell back into the water with a splash. Standing on the bank was the Shepherd. He had been watching from behind a tree. His big dog stood beside him, barking fiercely. Woof! Woof! “Get away, you bully!” shouted the Shepherd. The Wolf, wet and with a very sore nose, scrambled out of the river and ran away as fast as he could. He didn’t look back. The Shepherd picked up the little Lamb. “Come on, little one,” he said kindly. “Let’s get you back to your mother.”

Moral of the Story: A tyrant will always find an excuse for his tyranny, but truth and justice (and a good Shepherd) can prevail.

The end.