An Old Coat and Gruff Goat

“Elijah went up to him and threw his cloak around him.” (1 Kings 19:19)

Long ago, Ricky Raccoon received a special coat from his grandfather.

“But it wasn’t just any coat,” Ricky told anyone who’d listen. “It was Grampa’s most precious robe. He was very important. When I wear his old coat, I feel important, too.”

“Bully for you,” said Gruff, the grumpy goat.

“And very handsome,” Ricky added, puffing out his chest.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” said Gruff. “Or anywhere far in that coat. You might mess it up or get it dirty.”

But Ricky wasn’t worried. He licked the silver sleeves clean and polished the shiny buttons with his paws.

“Ricky!” a friend called. “Come play tag with us!”

Tag was Ricky’s favorite. He was fast and quick and could catch almost anyone. He leapt from branch to branch, chasing his friends.

“You better run!” he shouted. “One… two… three… ready or not, here I come!”

He raced around the tree trunk, swung under a branch, and then— Rippp!

His coat caught on a limb. A long tear opened at the shoulder. The sleeve hung loose.

Ricky stopped. His eyes went wide.

“Noooo! My beautiful coat! What will I do?” he cried.

His friends gathered around.

“Let’s fix it!” one said. “Put mud on it!”

“No, use sticks!”

“Maybe Mr. Rabbit will donate some fur,” said Gruff. “That hare sheds so much hair he wouldn’t notice.”

But Ricky knew none of their ideas would work. The old goat had been right about his coat—he shouldn’t have worn it while playing tag.

His mother came when she heard him crying. She listened as Ricky explained what happened and how he needed to find new fabric to repair the coat.

“No, not new,” she said. “The coat’s material is too old. If you sew in new cloth, it’ll pull at the seam and tear the coat even worse.”

Ricky frowned. He hadn’t thought of that.

“To protect the old coat,” she said, “you need an old piece of fabric to match it.”

“But where will I find such a thing?” Ricky asked.

“Wait here,” his mother said. “I have an idea.”

She returned with a small bundle.

“I saved this from Grandpa’s old things,” she said, handing Ricky a faded scrap of cloth.

“A rag?” Ricky asked.

“Not a rag,” she said. “This was his mantle. In the Bible, a prophet wore a cloak to show he listened to God. When that prophet passed on his mantle, it meant the next person had the ear of God. This was part of your grandfather’s mantle.”

Ricky held it. The cloth felt soft, worn, strong. It almost matched the color of the coat.

His mother stitched the patch onto the shoulder. The sleeve held. The garment looked good as new for an old coat.

“It’s not perfect,” Ricky said, “but it’ll do.”

Gruff snorted. “Still say you look silly in that thing.”

Ricky smiled. “That’s okay. I’m not wearing it to look good. I’m wearing it to carry on Grampa’s work.”

“Oh?” said Gruff. “And what work is that?”

“Telling others about God,” Ricky said. “Now, who’s up for another round of tag?”

All paws went up.

“One… two…”

“Wait!” said Gruff. He helped Ricky slip off the coat, then hung it on his horns. “Proceed.”

Ricky laughed. “… Three! Ready or not, here I come!”

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Julie Hagel