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Good evening, little lambs. Tonight's story is called Thistle and the Borrowed Stars, inspired by the gospel of Luke eleven fifteen to twenty six. Tonight's story is about saying thank you, not just thinking it, but saying it out loud, together, the way you do at a table full of family. Jesus wants to show the lamb something good. When we remember all the kind things God has already done for us, it helps us feel brave about what's still coming. And when we look up at something enormous and wonderful, like a sky full of stars, that funny, shivery feeling isn't fear, it's wonder. And so tonight we're back on Shepherd's Hill on a cool October evening, with a lamb named Thistle, who is about to learn this very thing. The air on Shepherd's Hill had turned crisp the way it does every year when summer lets go. Geese called somewhere far off and high up, and the grass had gone the color of toast. Tomorrow the whole flock would make the long walk over the ridge to the winter pasture, a climb steep enough that even old Wooly called it a real one. Thisle had heard about it all week, and he did not like how his stomach felt when he thought about it. Thisle had only come to Shepherd's Hill in late summer after the creek near his old home had nearly dried up, so this was his very first ridge walk. He did not know yet whether his legs were strong enough or whether the weather would hold, or what might go wrong on the way. Every night before bed the flock climbed a wide flat rock at the top of the hill that everyone called the lookout stone, because from up there you could see every star come out, one after another, like someone lighting little lamps across the whole sky. And every night old Wooly led what he called the thank you round. Each lamb, one at a time, said one true thing out loud that had been good that day. Tonight Jesus climbed up with them, and he asked for something longer than usual. Tonight, he said, let's remember the whole summer. Say something good I did for you. Not just today, whatever comes to mind. Clover went first. The evening I kept haulin' water to the trough because I was scared it wouldn't be enough, she said. And then I found out it already was. I didn't need to carry all that worry. You already had it handled. Biskit went next, bouncing a little on her front hooves. The night pip rang the little bell by the oak because she was scared of the dark, even though she'd already asked for help once that same night, she said. And you came anyway. You weren't too tired for her second ask. One by one the good things went around the circle, small and real and warm, until it was Thistle's turn. He opened his mouth. Nothing came. I don't have one, he said finally, and his voice came out smaller than he meant it to. I've only been here since the creek dried up. I don't have an old memory like that to make me brave for tomorrow. What if the walk goes wrong, and I'm the only one up there with nothing to remember? It was a fair question, and nobody rushed to answer it. Then Hazel spoke up. She had come to Shepherd's Hill herself only a little before Thistlehead, still earnest about everything, still sometimes sure she had nothing worth offering. I didn't have an old memory either when I first got here, she said. I came part way through the summer, same as you. But the others told me things that happened before I ever arrived, things I never saw myself. And now when I think about hard days, I think about those too, like they happened to me a little bit as well. That's why we say it out loud, old Wooly said gently, instead of just holding it quietly in our own heads. Jesus nodded. That's exactly it, he said. When one of you remembers something good I did, it doesn't stay just yours. It belongs to everyone who hears it. Tonight, every brave memory up on this rock is yours too, Thisle. All of it. You can borrow every single one. Thisle sat with that for a moment. He still was not sure he believed all the way down that someone else's memory could really make his own legs feel steadier tomorrow. But it helped anyway, in a direction he couldn't quite explain, the way a blanket helps even before you're fully warm. Now look up, Jesus said. They did. The stars had finished coming out, thick and bright, and far too many to count, scattered clear across the whole dark sky above Shepherd's Hill. Nobody said anything for a little while. It was the kind of enormous that makes you feel small in the best way, not the scared way, the same enormous feeling as standing at the bottom of a very tall mountain and looking all the way up. That's the same feeling, Jesus said quietly, as loving God with your whole heart, not scared of him, amazed by him, every one of those stars, he knows by its name, same as he knows each one of you. Then, in the hush, Thisle remembered something after all. Today, he said slowly, Jesus helped me find three more flat stones for the little puddle by the creek path, so the baby fish stuck there won't dry out before the rain comes back. He paused. That's not a big thing, but it's mine. It's exactly the right size, Jesus said, smiling. Clover shifted over and pressed against Thisle's side, the way you do for a friend who's cold. And Thisle, looking up at all those stars he still could not finish counting, found that his stomach had gone quiet. He still did not know for certain what tomorrow's walk would be like, but he was not climbing it with nothing. He was climbing it, carrying every good thing that had ever happened to anyone on Shepherd's Hill, because tonight, out loud, by the fire and under the stars, all of it had become his too. And so tonight we remember when we say thank you out loud, together, the good things God has done for any one of us become something all of us can carry, and when we look up at something as big as the whole night sky, we don't need to be afraid. We only need to stand there amazed, the way you'd stand amazed in front of someone who loves you more than you can count. Dear God, thank you for everything good you have already done for us. Help us remember it when tomorrow feels big. Thank you for loving us more than all the stars in the sky. Amen. Good night, little lamb. God loves you so much. Sweet dreams.