_We should be content to endure things that cannot be helped._
Once there was a little lamb who was very unhappy. All the other
lambs frisked about in the sunshine, ran around the meadow and
played with one another; but this little lamb stayed beside his
mother and cried because he was so unhappy.
“What makes you so miserable?” said the old mother sheep.
“Oh, mother!” said the lamb, “see all the other lambs with white
wool, and mine is gray. I want white wool, too.” And the lamb began
to cry again and looked so miserable that the old ram actually
stopped eating grass and blinked at him.
“You are a cry-baby,” said the ram. “Look at my wool; it is gray as
an old blanket and full of burrs. I don’t mind it.” But the little
lamb went off by itself and felt as bad as ever.
Off in a corner the lamb saw some white flowers.
“Give me your white blooms to make me a coat. I want a white coat
like the other lambs,” said the lamb to the flowers. But the
flowers shook their heads and said:
“You are a foolish lamb not to like your gray coat. All flowers are
not white, anyhow, and we think the colored ones are as pretty as
we are. Besides that, you would look ridiculous covered with flower
petals.” So the lamb moved on and soon came to a white hen sitting
on a fence.
“Please, Mrs. Hen, give me your white feathers to make me a coat. I
am very unhappy because my wool is gray instead of white,” said the
lamb. The old hen ruffled up her feathers and looked down at the
lamb and said:
“My! how silly! I have seen plenty of gray chickens and red ones,
too, and they are just as good looking as the white ones. Besides
that, how would a lamb look covered with feathers?” And the old hen
laughed until she fell off the fence backwards.
The little lamb ran around the field to the old white horse.
“Please, Mr. Horse, give me some hair to make me a white coat. I am
very unhappy because my wool is gray,” said the little lamb. The
old horse cocked his ears and looked down at the lamb.
“Who ever heard of such a thing as a lamb with hairs on it? I had a
gray colt once and she was beautiful. Go away, my child; your gray
coat is beautiful enough,” said the horse.
The little lamb went back to where the other lambs were playing.
They gathered around and began to admire his gray coat.
“You have the honor of being the only gray lamb in the flock. We
shall call you the leader, because we can tell you from the others
easily. Come now, let us run to the fence!” Off they all went, the
gray lamb in the lead, the fastest and strongest of them all, glad,
at last, that he had a gray coat.