A friend who lost all his children told me about being in an eastern
country some time ago, and he saw a shepherd going down to a stream,
and he wanted to get his flock across. He went into the water and
called them by name, but they came to the bank and bleated, and were
too afraid to follow. At last he went back, tightened his girdle about
his loins, took up two little lambs, and put one inside his frock, and
another inside his bosom. Then he started into the water, and the old
sheep looked up to the shepherd instead of down into the water. They
wanted to see their little ones. So he got them over the water, and
led them into the green pastures on the other side.
How many times the Good Shepherd has come down here and taken a little
lamb to the hill-tops of glory, and then the father and mother begin
to look up and follow.