A Snowy Day and a Lost Sheep
As I write, a historic snowfall is showering upon our valley in northwestern Virginia. Over two feet of snow covers Shirefeld. My husband and I awoke early, enjoying the childlike happiness of snow, and discussed our plans for the day. Reading books by the fire, perhaps even poetry, after a few chores were done: those were our chief goals. After praying the family rosary around the fire, my husband decided to check on our small flock of six sheep and two llamas. He was thanking God he had picked up a large roll of hay Thursday for their small stable beneath our chicken coop, so they had both shelter and food. To his surprise and concern, none of the black-and-brown hair sheep were near the stable, though the llamas were there, chewing placidly. He saw the sheep in the far reaches of the pasture, and they were stuck in the heavy snow. Quickly he floudered across the heavily-laden field and started driving them back to their stable. They were struggling in the snow as they made