More Than Black or White

Once upon a time there was a black and white mountain. At the bottom of the black and white mountain was a black and white meadow, filled with black and white sheep. The sheep were separated into two herds, black and white. Sometimes the herds would mingle but would always separate at the end of the day. This worked perfectly well for the sheep. They felt comfortable around sheep who looked like them. The black sheep felt they were the most beautiful with their deep rich coats. When their wool was made into a coat it was the warmest coat, pulling in all the heat from the sun. The white sheep too felt they were the most beautiful. Their perfectly white wool made pristine coats, and the white sheep were very proud that only the richest villagers were able to buy coats that couldn’t get dirty. For many years the black and white sheep produced black and white coats for the villagers who lived on the black and white mountain. Then one day, a purple sheep was born.

The black and white sheep didn’t like the purple sheep, the purple sheep didn’t fit in. He was tolerated by each herd, allowed to graze with them during the day, but never truly accepted, having to sleep alone at night. When shearing day came, Purple Sheep was always told it would be a waste of time to harvest his wool because no one wanted a purple coat. Purple coats are ugly and serve no purpose the other sheep would say. The villagers only want coats that are black or white. So, for years Purple Sheep watched as his peers received beautiful haircuts that in turn produced beautiful coats. Always wondering why no one wanted purple wool.

Purple Sheep was growing older and years without being sheared properly were taking their toll. Purple Sheep asked the black sheep shearer for help but was told that his wool was not useful. It was too light in color, it would not blend in right with the crisp black wool, it would ruin the whole garment. Purple Sheep then asked the white sheep shearer if he would please help him, explaining his heavy wool was becoming a burden. The white sheep shearer also refused. He told Purple Sheep his wool was far too dark to use in a white coat. It would stand out in stark contrast against the pure white and no one would purchase a coat like that.

Feeling defeated, Purple Sheep didn’t know what to do. Why was he born like this? What purpose did he serve if not to make coats? How is it fair that he has to live a lonely and physically painful life because of the color of his wool? Purple Sheep could barely see from wool in his eyes, he could barely walk from the weight of it on his back. No one cared and it was becoming increasingly difficult to watch the black and white sheep be sheared and praised year after year for their beauty and contribution to the herds. Depressed and exhausted from carrying the weight of years of neglect, Purple Sheep began to walk towards the mountain.

Purple Sheep had been told his whole life that nothing was over the mountain, it would be a waste of time for him to leave the meadow. However, Purple Sheep was desperate to be sheared so he started walking. If he couldn’t find a shearer to help him, at least he could find a private place to end all the suffering. The thought of laying down one final time, resting and not having to carry the weight of his life anymore was peaceful. No one noticed when Purple Sheep started up the mountain, or if they did notice, they didn’t care.

The black and white mountain was vast and Purple Sheep continued following the trail for several days before noticing that something was changing. The deep black hues were becoming lighter, the stark white was softening into something more cream. In some places the colors even swirled together, forming a new color that purple sheep had never seen before but somehow knew was called gray. The further up the mountain Purple Sheep climbed, the more the mountain changed until nothing was just black or white, everything was a mixed hue of gray.

At the peak of the mountain purple sheep was unexpectedly greeted by a gray sheep. Purple Sheep gasped, he’d been told his whole life that he was the only sheep who was born the wrong color, but right here in front of him was another mistake.

“You’re gray,” said Purple Sheep.

“Why yes, I am.”

“How?”

“What do you mean?” puzzled the gray sheep. “That is how I was born."

“I thought that sheep are only supposed to be black or white. Villagers only want black or white coats and other colors are a mistake, a waste of time, not worth the harvest.”

“Actually, my friend,” said Gray Sheep as he stepped closer to Purple Sheep “villagers want more than just black and white coats.”

“More than black or white?” Purple Sheep said confused.

“Much more,” said Gray Sheep “follow me and I will show you the other side of the mountain.”

Purple Sheep followed close behind Gray Sheep and as they got further down the mountain more colors started to appear. The mountain was so vibrant on this side it was hard to believe it. He walked through lush green grass and past rushing blue streams. He stopped to smell red wildflowers and bask in yellow sunshine. He knew the names of colors he’d never seen before, like they were inside of him this whole time, waiting to be discovered. Purple Sheep felt lighter with every step down the mountain, the weight of his wool being lifted by the hope of a better life. If things on this side of the mountain were colorful, maybe the sheep were too.

When they finally reached the bottom of the mountain Purple Sheep was taken, for the first time in his life, to be sheared. He could feel the breeze on his skin, walk further faster, and see clearly with no wool in his eyes.

“What will happen to my wool?” Purple Sheep asked Gray Sheep. “Purple is the wrong color. You can’t make anything beautiful with it.”

“Maybe on the other side of the mountain that is true but here we think every color is beautiful.”

“Every color?” Excitement swelled inside of Purple Sheep. Maybe he belonged here, maybe he would finally be able to contribute to a herd and fit in, maybe his days being sad and lonely were over? Purple Sheep followed Gray Sheep away from the shearing barn and into the meadow.

A rainbow herd of sheep waited there. Every color of sheep imaginable, all grazing together on grass so green it looked fake. It was more than Purple Sheep had ever hoped for when he decided to leave the black and white meadow, and it took no time at all for him to find his place in the rainbow herd. His wool was used to make the most gorgeous purple peacoat. It was luxurious and sold for a price far higher than any plain black or white coat ever had. Purple Sheep was valued and accepted rather than just tolerated, and for the first time ever, he was happy.