He nearly didn’t make it…

Not even 24 hours old, they were found by the side of the road for reasons that defy logic and kindness. Rushed to the sanctuary, we couldn’t help but wonder, “Had their discovery come too late?”

Cruz, the bigger of this endearing twosome, bore the deepest scars of his ordeal. Sunken sides, shallow breaths, a raspy chest and no sucking reflex all told the story of a tiny life teetering on the brink. Even though we began regular tube feeding, his condition continued to deteriorate. When his breaths grew desperate gasps, we reached for our oxygen machine—perhaps the last lifeline for this fragile soul.

As Cruz lay quietly, the speckly-nosed Cooper nestled close, his tiny frame radiating silent brotherly support. Together, they faced the unknown, as softly, the lifeline of oxygen swirled into Cruz’s compromised lungs. And breath by tiny breath, life crept back in. Yet days would pass before we could exhale our own as we watched over him with cautious hope. But then, one morning, Cruz vividly showed us what we had been waiting for—not in words, but in his little leaps, his playful bounds and the joyful way he drained his bottle all on his own.

Spending time with the now cheery Cruz and cheeky Cooper, we are reminded that gratitude transforms us. How lucky we are to be a part of something far grander than ourselves. And in the way Cooper moves, forthright and brave, looking right into our eyes, while Cruz takes the world at a slower pace, we find the individuality of others with whom we share this wondrous world.

Cradling these two tiny babes in our arms, we feel the warmth of another heart beating against our own. It is truly a beautiful thing. We are humbled by the weight of their story and how human choices can contribute to their suffering. A tale of vulnerability, resilience, the sheer will to live—and hope. Their strength is not lost on us, nor is the poignant reminder they carry: The soul of a lamb wears wool and whispers, through their determined bleats, for our mercy.