Surrounded by two thirds of the Edstone crew, Raisin was born as the sun set—right around dinnertime. We sighed in relief after learning that the wrinkled, slimy newborn was a girl—that meant she wouldn’t end up being roasted for dinner. More Edstonians had witnessed her birth than that of any other lamb, and we wanted to keep her. As she clumsily attempted to stand up and totter to her mother, who had moved away from the crowd, we began discussing what to call her. Raisin was the first name suggested. Smoky and Shadow were the next most popular suggestions. People called her by their preferred name for the next month or so. Raisin was not my favorite choice, but it was the name that stuck.

Raisin’s mother had had an abnormally huge udder when she gave birth, and we later learned that she had mastitis. As a result, Raisin couldn’t get her milk from her mother, so she depended on us to feed her. Her mother died about a week after Raisin’s birth.

Raisin was quite different from all the other lambs. She had to depend on humans from birth, so she viewed us as her parents. I was thankful to have a feeding shift, which meant that I got to see her almost every weekday morning.

Often as I walked to the sheep pasture, I thought about the passage of scripture in John 21 where Christ told Peter, “Feed my lambs” (verse 15). In John’s Gospel—The Love of God, Gerald Flurry writes: “When Christ talks about lambs, He is discussing people who are not yet sheep. They have that potential, but have not yet been converted. He is referring to prospective members, co-workers and others God sends His message to.”

The young, unconverted people in the Church are in this lamb category. To me, Raisin was the perfect example of what we should be like as spiritual lambs.

Of course, Raisin was very eager to get her food. To get to her, I had to walk through the sheep pen and into the pasture. If she saw me coming before I reached the pen, I would have to run in and close the door before she bounded around the corner through the gate and started looking for her milk. She ate as much as we would give her. In fact, if it kept us around longer, she would even overeat. (She eventually got quite fat, and we had to cut down her portion sizes.) Like Raisin, we should also be eager to get both mental and spiritual food from those who feed us. We are given nourishment by our parents, our ministers and our teachers.

Raisin didn’t just come for her food. She loved all the people who came to the pen. She looked to us for affection. Wherever we walked, she would follow. I occasionally would run and then stop suddenly just to watch her stop and shuffle back into place beside me. She also enjoyed it when we held her like a baby. One night we brought her from the sheep pasture to our bonfire and took turns holding her on our laps. She sat there happily.

Because of her sweetness and loyalty, she was our favorite lamb. The majority of the lambs in our pasture avoided us at all costs. The other two orphaned lambs would only come near us for food. They had been with their mothers long enough to be afraid of us. They ran away as soon as their formula bottles were empty. Raisin, on the other hand, stayed at our sides, and we could tell that she was sad when we left. Sometimes she would baa for two or three minutes after we left, running along next to us as far as she could on her side of the fence.

We should be as loyal to our teachers and to God as Raisin was to those who fed her. We should stick close to those who give us instruction and thank God for them. Without spiritual instruction, we would struggle to survive just as much as Raisin would have struggled had we not been there to feed her. We are completely helpless in any situation without the knowledge and training we get from our mentors. In regards to mental food, I have been blessed with great teachers in the academic field and in music and dance as well. Without good teachers, I know I would be completely lost. We can’t grow without the nourishment our teachers provide.

I’m glad I got to literally feed lambs for about a month. I was able to see just how much I need help as a little lamb myself, and I was thankful to have Raisin’s example of what kind of lamb I should be—a lamb who is eager to receive nourishment and appreciates that nourishment as well as those who provide it.