Becoming Luke

When kindness found Luke, it was almost too late. Emaciated, parasite-riddled, unable to stand—his was a body hanging on by a thread. His spirit dimmed by neglect. But even in those first frail moments, something stirred. A flicker. A will.

And so began Luke’s journey—not just to survive, but to reclaim life.

To become.

Our triage team moved swiftly. Fluids flowed, hope followed. By morning, there was a softness in his eye where fear had lived the night before. And though his body was broken, Luke began to believe.

So did we.

A blood transfusion gifted by dear Lambini bought him time. Just enough for Luke to claim it as his own. Each new day brought another step. A brighter glance. A stronger breath.

And a hunger—not just for food, but for life.

And our love.

We helped him shed the lice-riddled fleece of his past, replacing it with trust and quiet joy. He began selecting his own grass, choosing life in every bite. He greeted us with gentle nods and leaned into our hands and hearts as if to say, “I’m still here—Thank you.”

Luke now walks with confidence, meeting new friends both human and ovine. Forming bonds with the ease of one who’s always known love—even if he hadn’t.

Though his ribs still show and a trace of green drool marks his battles within, Luke’s body is catching up to his spirit. That once swollen tummy, filled with parasites, now swells with nourishment and peace.

And kindness.

He is happy. Hearty. So incredibly friendly.

Strong—not in spite of what he’s endured, but because of it.

Luke is living proof that the world’s cruelty can be undone by compassion. That healing happens at the broken places when love is the glue. And that some saints really do walk among us—on four dainty black hooves, with a halo only the heart can see.

The road ahead for Luke is clear and kind. And every step he takes reminds us why we do this work.

Because no matter how dark the past, a different future is always possible.

You only have to believe.

And become. Like Luke.