Sapphire's Lesson
by Sapphire
Before I left Washington, my mother told me I was headed all the way to Tennessee to become a milk cow. I was only a weanling and didn’t really understand what that meant — only that it sounded important… and maybe a little scary.
The morning I left, she leaned in close and said,
"Listen carefully...
Be gentle.
Be steady.
Trust the people who care for you.
They’ll teach you things I can’t.”
Those words stayed with me through the long trailer ride, through the new smells and faces, and through two full years of growing up at Mountain Heritage Farm in Tennessee.
I never forgot what Mama said.
Just a few weeks ago, my easy rhythm of grazing and napping changed. The Snack Lady told me it was time to learn how to stand in the stanchion.
The first time I stepped into the Snack House, I wasn’t sure what to think. In fact, it took me several minutes just to get brave enough to cross the threshold! It was closed in, and the last time I went somewhere closed in, it was a trailer — and my entire world changed.
I was nervous!
The buckets clanged, the floor gleamed, and everything smelled like feed, hay, and the faint sweetness of milk. Somehow, this felt different from a trailer.
The Snack Lady spoke softly — always softly — and encouraged me with my favorite treat. Her hands moved with purpose, but her calm was steady. I could feel it before I understood her words. I was still afraid, but I trusted her. So I took a deep breath, followed her inside, and was rewarded with snacks!
I think I like the Snack House after all.
Before long, visiting the Snack House became part of our daily routine. I’d walk in, enjoy my favorite snack, and walk back out. I loved all the extra attention. I knew how special I must be to have that quiet one-on-one time each day. It was clear that Snack Lady truly loved me.
Then one night, everything changed again. I felt pain and pressure, but my body seemed to know what to do. Before long, there was a squirming new life beside me—my very own little girl.
Instinctively, I gave her a proper cow bath to get her clean and dry (we lick to say “I love you”— it’s our way).
And right then, I finally understood why Snack Lady had been taking me to the Snack House. This is what Mama meant back in Washington! The Snack House is also the Milk House. Every visit had been preparing me for this moment.
Just like always, the Snack Lady called me to follow her. I hesitated, worried about leaving my calf, but I knew what to do — she had been so patient in her teaching. When the Hay Man gently carried my little one toward the Snack House, my heart settled. I followed close behind, step by step, until I stood in the stanchion. The familiar hum of the milk machine began, and I felt calm. I trusted the Snack Lady completely, so I gave my milk without fear — and watched with quiet pride as Snack Lady fed my precious Ember her very first bottle.
That’s when I realized my true purpose. I was created to serve — and I’m good at it.
Now, when I watch my bright-eyed calf—the one Snack Lady calls Little Miss Milk Mouth — I hear my mother’s voice all over again. We’re both learning this new life together: me finding my steadiness as a milker, and her finding her feet.
I know now what Mama was teaching me all along: what the Creator wants for us.
“Train children to live the right way.
And when they are old, they will not stray from it.”
Proverbs 22:6
I tell Ember the same things Mama once told me. I want her to be special—
Just like me!
—and to serve as a family milk cow someday. I scold her when she gets impatient and teach her to stay calm, to listen, and to trust—just like Mama taught me.
That way, when her time comes, she’ll know the gentle hands and the sweet rewards of the Snack House.
I’m not the perfect milk cow yet, but I’m learning fast. And maybe that’s the beauty of it: none of us starts perfect. We just show up, listen, and let love do the teaching.
Because becoming a milk cow isn’t just about milk — it’s about giving without fear, staying gentle when things are new (and maybe a little scary), and keeping faith in the hands that guide you.
Always keep faith.
Always.
