Our Calf Rose From The Dead

I entered the barn early this morning to discover our two-day-old calf was gone. The mother cow was there, so I was baffled at where her baby could be. I searched for hours around the barn and the surrounding fields. Somehow, during the night, she had escaped the barn during the blizzard. I finally had to give up, convinced a coyote must have dragged her off. Her mother started the saddest mournful balling for her lost calf and kept it up for hours. It was so pathetic I had to retreat to my office. Several hours later, when all seemed lost, the little calf rose from a snowbank she had burrowed into and stood on her feet. 

My dad, who came out to continue the search, saw her and called me with the fantastic news. What joy! I hurried to her and carried her back to her mother in the barn, where she immediately started to nurse and, amazingly, seemed fine. How did she survive over eighteen hours in a snowstorm alone, and why did she wander out of the warm barn to bed in the far corner of our pasture to become covered in snow?

I’ll never know, but I am taking two lessons from this little miracle. The first is from the brave little calf. No matter how far you may wander or how hard it gets, you must get back on your feet again. Oliver Goldsmith said, “Success consists of getting up just one more time than you fall.” The second lesson is from the mother cow. Never give up hope, get loud, and keep calling because there is always a chance, even if very small, that they will finally listen and respond.