A Sheep in Wolf's Clothing

By

Bernard Cullen

All Rights Reserved

First Edition

E-book

Dedicated to Billie Cullen,

a loving mother and avid reader,

who built her children’s dreams.

September 16, 1931 – January 20, 2010

“We are so accustomed to wearing a disguise before others

that eventually we are unable to recognize ourselves.”

Francois De La Rochefoucauld

Chapter 1

      “...They come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly they are ferocious wolves."

      Mathew 7:15  NIV

      The howl echoed across the ridges of the Mountain above them.

      “Wolves!” Timothy heard Skipper bleat out in fear. Terrified, he dropped into the tall grass trying to hide in the green blades. Around him the other three sheep did the same, making themselves as small as they could. The mournful howl came again. This time another answered it. Now they could tell it came from up on the ridge line, somewhere above Big Rock Point. 

      Above the point, they simply called it the High Ridge. Unlike most of the other ridges, it led straight up the Mountain going far above even the High Meadows. Scared as he was, Timothy’s curiosity had him staring up at the ridge. Fascinated, he saw a group of wolves emerge from a patch of trees.

      “Look, there they are,” he whispered excitedly to the others. “They’re right above us. Thank goodness they aren’t any closer.” From this distance, he could tell their dark bodies were lean and muscled. They were every lamb’s worst nightmare.

      “Maybe they won’t notice us,” Ewellen prayed. Timothy thought he could hear her wool quivering as he crouched lower himself. He was a little ashamed to be acting so afraid, but too scared to care.

      I wish they were at a much safer distance. They are awfully close, maybe a hundred yards away, he guessed. He swallowed and it sounded terribly loud in his ears. As he watched, the wolves began to chase one another, running back and forth. They nipped at each others' heels and jumped about the clearing, having a good time. He could hear them whining and yipping in mock fights.

      Why, they’re playing! The terrible horrible wolves are playing, he thought with wonder. Just like the little lambs in the Meadow. Gosh, they're so tough and fierce and strong. Wolves have no fear and they don't have to follow any rules. They're wild and free, like I want to be. A wolf doesn’t have to follow the Shepherd or do what the Orthodox Sheep tells them to do. They can go anywhere they want. Do anything they like.

      Timothy felt a pang of jealousy, but he was also afraid of wolves. He shuddered. They eat sheep, and there were always a few that went missing. Everyone knew the wolves would eat you if you didn’t stay close to the Flock, safe in the Meadows with the Shepherd. Straying could be fatal. He shivered.

      If I were a wolf, I could be up there playing right now. And I wouldn’t be afraid of anything, because everything would be afraid of me. I’d be part of the Pack. His dad had told him how wolves ran together in a group called, “The Pack”. That must be like a gang, he figured. In a group, wolves are invincible and not even the bears mess with them. After all, my dad always says, 'Bears aren't afraid of anything.' Timothy wasn’t sure how his dad knew, but figured he had to know.