Lean In, Little One

The crusty clumps were a living reminder of the tumble that saw him separated from his loving mumma. With his lungs rasping and his heart racing, he would have desperately searched for her everywhere.

But he could find her nowhere.

And so he bends with the winds of life’s challenges—with grace, and with hope.

Within him, a chest infection rages. Within us, so too does kindness—fierce, determined, unwavering.

Willow stands before us, gentle and pure. His curious gaze meets ours with a softness that urges us to return it with mercy.

And we do, naturally.

There is an urgency about him, too. An unspoken plea that asks us not just to be kind to him, but to extend that kindness to all his kind.

Willow escaped a system that would have consumed him—but not before it had legally mutilated his tiny body: severed his tail, and removed his testicles, without any requirement for pain relief.
Acts that would spark public outrage if Willow were a puppy or a kitten.

But to a lamb? Too often, it is the unseen norm.

As Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. so powerfully said, “The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.” And it bends because hands and hearts like ours—like yours—reach out and pull it closer.

For Willow.

For every gentle being born into a world that is still learning how to be kind.

And so we bend with him.
Toward a softer, kinder world.
Toward justice.
Toward hope.

Lean in, little one.
Lean in.