“That one’s useless,” glowers Farmer Blenkinsop. “She’s for the meat works.”
“No, dear,” Mrs Blenkinsop chides. “I have a use for her.”
“It’s a real lamb,” little ones whisper as Mrs Blenkinsop carries Letty to the altar’s nativity scene. She lays her next to the Baby Jesus. “Away in a Manger,” voices warble.
Letty nibbles at the manger’s hay, licks the baby’s porcelain face.
The congregation gasps as her fleece radiates a warm glow.
“Ma-ah,” she bleats, rising on strong, straight limbs.