![]() He left the ninety nine to go in search of that precious sheep. In the Bible there is a story of a shepherd who had a hundred sheep and lost one. ÂAnd as far as I could see you is just a sheep,â he says as he reached to the clearing where the other six sheep were patiently waiting. But anyway, what do I know bout them tings? I am just a old farmer with a dimming vision,â he chuckles As usual, instead of people sit down and look at what is best for de country in these hard times of earthâs history, is all about dey party. Right now everybody fighting about some kind of constitutional reform. Georgie down the road sending his things overseas through Fairtrade but he have money to put toilet up in the bushes and all the other tings they asking him to do, â he paused again to rest. Christine canât manage to go down to Trinidad no more and people not buying on Market days. ÂThe land still giving us plenty but sometimes we canât even get the produce sell. His wife not working either and they really struggling to make ends meet but at least he making a honest living and ah does give him some ground provision every week to help out,â he stopped for a while to catch his breath. He trying to get by with his cart business in town. Last time she mother call she on a card from by Miss Kato, first ting she say is that she lost she job because of the recession up there an she ainât have nothing to give us – as if we calling to beg she.īut God is good, I still have me boy Johnny. We donât even have phone to call since them cut off we phone. Then me last girl in America she used to call us every week… now is nearly a year since we hear from she. ÂImagine having to bury your own child and is not because the good Lord call him but because he follow the devil straight into the path of a bullet. But he had to go and mix-up himself with them vagabonds,â his eyes began to moisten. ÂWayward… just like my Michael… me firstborn… he was such a bright boy in school. And ah had to leave the others by themself, with dem dutty criminals around.â The old man shook his head. ÂYou rascal! See what yo waywardness cost me…. The farmer carefully removed the sheep, then held her in his arms and began the journey back to his flock.Īs he walked with the now silent animal, he found himself, as he sometimes did, talking to the sheep. He sprang up and followed the cry of despair to the edge of a cliff where he found his missing sheep, wounded and tangled in a thorn bush. An hour later he was about to give up his search when he heard a distant bleat. Then he began, wearily, back into the mountain. He retraced his steps all the way to the village but the animal was nowhere to be found. Finally he decided to tie the other six and search for the missing one. ![]() He sighed heavily and his eyes immediately did a 360 degrees sweep of the area but the wayward sheep was nowhere in sight. ![]() It was normally easier to herd the sheep once they were in the mountain however today they seemed to be unusually skittish and he hadnât gone very far when he realised that one of his seven was missing. Then there was nothing but God and the serenity of the hills. Hers was the last house on the trail that led to the mountain. He was almost sure that he had passed her sweeping her yard every morning for the last twenty years. He said hello to Mrs Cane who paused her sweeping of the yard to wave. Nevertheless, his trusted water-boots, though not as strong as they once were, still carried him into the silence of the mountain the cutlass that had made permanent pathways, though not as sharp as it was in times past, still made his walk easier and the voice that once filled the hills with its echo, though not as loud as it used to be, was still firm enough to lead his sheep. He used to walk this mile much faster, with strong, purposeful strides but he could never outrun time and now, tired from the journey of the years, his footprints did not sink as deep as they used to and his steps were slow and gentle. ![]()
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