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Good evening, little lambs. Tonight's story is called The Heavy Bundle and the Last Stone, inspired by the Gospel of Matthew twenty three twelve. Tonight, Jesus teaches us something plain and kind. Do not pile hard work on other people and then walk away. Do not do good only so someone will notice you. The greatest one is the one who helps. In the Gospel of Matthew chapter twenty three verses one through twelve, that is what Jesus says. And so tonight we're back on Shepherd's Hill, where the evening fire needs wood, and one little bundle is too heavy. Dusk smelled of cool grass and the first wood smoke. The sun sat low, orange as a ripe apricot. Without sticks the fold would grow cold. Juniper's white wool was freshly smoothed, her little basket bounced on her foreleg. She climbed the flat rock by the path. I will be stick captain, she said. Each lamb must bring eight sticks, stacked just so. When I check your pile, you say Yes, Juniper. I will sit on the warm stone nearest the fire, because I am the one who tells. Biscuit's golden tuft bounced. Eight is a lot. Eight, said Juniper. She picked up two thin pretty sticks for herself and held them high. Clover's blue scarf was neat. The green sprig behind her left ear stood thoughtful. Quiet, dark fleeced mat watched from the side of the path. They gathered. The sticks were dry and scratchy. They smelled like last summer. Little Bramble stacked eight, then nine, because she wanted to do it right. The bundle was taller than her ears. She took one step. The rope bit her small chest. She took another. Her legs shook. I can't, she whispered. Clover, who had run the good jug down from the well yesterday, so thirsty Bramble could drink first, started toward her. Juniper stamped. Each lamb carries their own. That is the rule. If I carry hers, no one will know I am the captain. Clover's sprig tipped, she stopped. Bramble stood in the cooling dust. The others walked on. The first little flame popped in the fire ring. The warm stone nearest it sat empty, waiting for Juniper. That was when Jesus came along the path, warm as always. He looked at each of them as if that lamb were the only lamb in the meadow. He did not take the warm stone. He knelt in the dust beside Bramble. He put his hands under the heavy end of the bundle. I will take this side, he said. You take the light end. We will walk together. The rope loosened on Bramble's chest. They walked. The sticks did not drag. At the fire, Jesus set the bundle down and sat on the last cool stone, farthest from the flame. Matt slipped two extra sticks onto the pile. He did not ask anyone to watch. Juniper stood by the warm stone with her two pretty sticks. Nobody said Yes, Juniper. Jesus looked at her, close and kind. He did not frown. Juniper, he said, you told the truth about the fire. The fold does need wood, but you put a heavy bundle on a little lamb, and you would not lift a hoof to help. You wanted the first seat and a big name? That is not how my father's family works. Juniper's ears went low. You do not need a big name, Jesus said. You have one teacher, that is me. You have one father in heaven. All of you are brothers and sisters. He touched the bundle. The greatest one among you is the one who helps carry. The one who makes himself big will be brought low. The one who makes himself small to help will be lifted up. Juniper looked at the two thin sticks in her hooves. She set them down. She walked to the last stone. May I sit by you? she asked Jesus. Yes, he said. There is room. She sat. The stone was cool, the fire still reached her. Old woolly silver grey fleece shone. His voice felt like sitting next to a fire. A captain talks, he said. A friend lifts. Bramble leaned on Jesus' knee. Clover's sprig stood bright, the wood caught, and the fold grew warm. And so tonight we learn that Jesus does not want us to pile hard things on other people and walk away. He does not want us to do good only so someone will clap. The greatest one is the one who helps carry. Who could you help lift tonight? Let's close our eyes now, safe on the green hill, held by the shepherd who kneels in the dust and takes the heavy end. Jesus, help me not to show off. Help me carry the heavy end for someone else. Amen. Good night, little lamb. God loves you so much. Sweet dreams.