Friday, 26 April 2013

A Lamb to the Slaughter

I wish I had a camera ready the day we drove through a village to witness three freshly slaughtered lambs hanging outside, in front of a shop. They were tied up by their back legs, heads still in tact but bodies skinned. This was a shock to me, and my family (especially Lilian who is 6). We have never seen anything like it. Our meat in the UK comes prepackaged in the aisles of the supermarket, so we never have to think about where it came from. We don't have to wonder at the life it was or the life it cost for us to have the nutrients we need.

Even though I spend much of my childhood holidays in my Grandparents beautiful cottage and small holding, eating the produce of their plants, the milk from their goats, and the animals they raised; it still came as a shock to see these animals hanging there. But that wasn't the worst part for me. The part that really got me was the fourth lamb. Laying solemnly, no more than a metre away from the others, tied to a post, was another lamb. A live lamb who surely knew his fate.

There is a man who was described as a lamb to the slaughter, and I can now begin to comprehend. A lamb doesn't put up a fight, doesn't run from death, but goes humbly, knowing it's own fate.

1 comment:

  1. Our western society is so sheltered from the realities of life!

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