1 · Meet Shep
Spread 1 — Meet Shep: the flock at peace on the spring hills, Shep front and center, the lantern and staff on the far rise.
Little Shep was the smallest lamb in the flock above Prairie Junction.
He was white as a dandelion puff, with ONE black ear, and a brass bell on a ribbon: ting, ting, ting, wherever he went.
Best of all, the Shepherd knew him.
Not just the flock. Him. By name.
2 · The Far Pasture
Spread 2 — the far pasture: Shep practicing stillness, the Shepherd's staff-shadow falling on the grass beside him.
That spring, the flock grazed in the far pasture, past the Meeting Tree, down by the creek.
Shep loved the flat crossing stone, cool under his hooves.
“If a storm ever makes everything loud,” the Shepherd told him, “you know what to do.”
Shep did. He had practiced.
“Stop. Be still. Listen.”
3 · The Storm Rolls In
Spread 3 — the storm rolls in: plum-purple sky, slanting rain, and the big rams planted as a living windbreak.
Then one afternoon, the sky turned plum-purple.
Wind whooshed. Rain pattered. Thunder went BOOM-rumble-rumble.
On the hill path, wind pushed the little lambs sideways — ears flapping!
So the flock's big rams planted themselves in the wind's way, and the lambs hurried past behind them, snug as buttons.
4 · The Crossing Stone
Spread 4 — the crossing stone: Shep alone on the near side. No lantern anywhere — that absence is the spread's whole feeling.
At the creek, the flock crossed on the flat crossing stone, one by one.
Clip, clop. Clip, clop. Careful now.
Shep was last. Rain splashed his nose. Thunder — BOOM!
Shep jumped… and landed on the wrong side.
Through the drippy rain, he could see no flock, hear no Shepherd calling.
5 · Running and Calling
Spread 5 — running and calling: ONE Shep, one motion streak, a trail of ting rings in the wet grass.
“Shepherd!” baaed Shep. “Wait! WAIT!”
He ran one way. He ran the other way.
He called louder and louder, but the thunder rumbled louder back.
His wool got wetter. His black ear dripped. His bell went ting… ting… in the wet grass.
The more he ran, the more lost he got.
6 · Under the Meeting Tree
Spread 6 — under the Meeting Tree: one dry patch, one dripping lamb, Mabel listening wordlessly at the tree's far edge, and the first word: “Stop.”
At last, Shep stopped running — because there it was.
The Meeting Tree. Its broad branches made a roof. Its leaves made a quieter rain.
Shep tucked himself under the tree, dripping, breathing hard.
At the tree's far edge sat Mabel the field mouse, small and dripping, saying nothing at all — just listening, same as him.
He was still lost. But he wasn't running anymore.
“Stop,” he whispered, remembering. Just the first word. It was a start.
7 · The Farm Bell
Spread 7 — the farm bell: gold rings from the farm's big iron bell travel under the thunder, from one source only.
Beneath the Meeting Tree, rain drummed and drummed.
Then, under the drumming — something else:
Ding… ding… ding…
Far away, the farm's big bell — the bell that called the flock home every night — slow, steady beats, a homing sound under the thunder.
“Stop. Be still. Listen.”
He stayed still a whole breath longer… and the bell was still there.
8 · Follow the Bell
Spread 8 — follow the bell: one ding, one step, in the flock's big muddy footprints (mud-brown, never red).
So Shep followed the bell.
One ding, one step. One ding, one step. Past the Meeting Tree, up the hill path, stepping in the flock's big muddy footprints.
The rain got quieter. The thunder rolled farther away.
And from the farm gate, faint and far, came voices calling names…
9 · The Gate Held Open
Spread 9 — the gate held open: Gate: OPEN. Hooves: STUCK. Ram: proud. Grandma counts them in — Rosie… Pip… Daisy…
At the farm gate, the wind kept swinging it shut — BANG!
So the oldest ram planted his hooves in the mud and leaned his whole heavy self against it.
Gate: OPEN. Hooves: STUCK. Ram: proud.
“That gate has met its match!”
Through came the flock, wet and glad, and Grandma — come to help — counted them in under the awning.
“Rosie… Pip… Daisy…” Check, check, check.
10 · One Lamb Short
Spread 10 — one lamb short: Grandma's count comes up one finger short, the whole farm calls into the wind, their voices tugged away like kites — and tiny Shep strains to hear on the far hill.
Grandma counted again — wet noses, bells, all of it.
“One lamb short,” she said. “Where's SHEP?”
Everyone called together: “SHEP!”
Grandma called. The whole flock called — and the farm bell pealed over it all.
Far up the hill, Shep heard them calling his name.
But the wind carried their voices away like kites.
11 · Shep Listens
Spread 11 — Shep listens: the stillest spread in the book. The lantern on this hill is the hidden lantern's source — the very same lantern hides in every picture.
So Shep did what he'd been taught.
His hooves planted in the wet grass.
“Stop.”
The running stopped.
“Be still.”
Even his black ear stopped dripping — well, almost.
“Listen.”
And under the wind, under the last thunder — the kindest voice he knew:
“Shep.”
On the hill, a lantern glowed gold, a tall staff beside it.
He had come looking. He had been calling all along.
12 · Every Sheep Counted
Spread 12 — every sheep counted: through the gate the old ram still holds, Grandma's great big check, and cocoa steaming on the porch.
The Shepherd guided Shep home, through the gate the old ram still held open.
Grandma made one great big check in the air: “SHEP! Every sheep counted. Every one HOME.”
Inside the barn: dry hay, warm lantern light, a snuggle in the middle of the flock.
Later, Grandma had towels waiting on the porch — and cocoa.
Ting, went his little bell, safe and dry.