Yesterday I said good-bye to an elderly lady - ninety - who had sheep as a youngster and never stopped being a shepherd at heart even though there had been no flock in her life for a long time. She was from my home town (that is, spot in the country - there was no 'town') and had the challenging but rich life you'd expect of someone living through the past ninety decades. With difficulty she was able to visit our sheep two years ago with her great grandchild and she actually shed tears of happiness to be back in a barn hearing sheep and smelling sheep and petting sheep.
Since none of her family has any rural connections anymore, I went to calling hours and did what one does for a shepherd - put locks of wool in her hands. That way the saints at Heaven's gate understand immediately why church services were sometimes missed and Sundays labored through - because you were a shepherd tending your flock - and they let you enter without question.
And that's what you do for a Shepherd.