Little lamb, little lamb, who made thee?

For Easter we attended a local service in Russian and then headed up into the mountains for a picnic. We ate, sang, and explored the streams, trees, and animal friends in the foothills of the beautiful KZ mountains. My guitar came along for a bit of singing and the combination of the glorious green grass, the singing brooks, real honest to goodness lettuce on our sandwiches, and the knowledge the joy of an Easter celebration made it a day to count our blessings. On the way home we ran into a friend, a shepherd the team often meets on their trips. He had a special surprise for us…a little lamb not more than two hours old.

The meaning of it all filled my heart with such joy. The miracle of new life, the beauty of the sacrificial Lamb, and the tender beauty of creation warmed my heart and reminded me of one of my favorite poems from William Blake:

Little Lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?

Gave thee life, and bid thee feed,

By the stream and o'er the mead;

Gave thee clothing of delight,

Softest clothing, woolly, bright;

Gave thee such a tender voice,

Making all the vales rejoice?

Little Lamb, who made thee?

Dost thou know who made thee?

Little Lamb, I'll tell thee,

Little Lamb, I'll tell thee.

He is called by thy name,

For He calls Himself a Lamb.

He is meek, and He is mild;

He became a little child.

I a child, and thou a lamb,

We are called by His name.

Little Lamb, God bless thee!

Little Lamb, God bless thee!