I never planned to stop at the auction that day. Grief had me on autopilot, numb and exhausted. But then I saw them — three shivering little goats labeled “unsold leftovers.” In that moment, my mother’s words echoed in my mind: “Don’t leave the soft things behind.”
I took them home. Built a pen from scraps. Held them close. Fed them. And slowly, as they healed, I began to heal too.
Sometimes we think we’re saving something small — but it ends up saving us. 💛
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