The Hundred-Times Hill

When we give something up out of love for Jesus or for others, God gives back a hundred times more , more friendship, more joy, more belonging , because God can never be outdone in generosity.

Tonight's story is inspired by Mark 10:28-31, the Gospel reading for May 26, 2026.

About Baa Baa Bible: Bible-inspired bedtime stories for children ages 3-10. In every story, Jesus is the gentle Good Shepherd, teaching us the lessons of today's Bible reading. All the other characters are lambs and sheep, a warm reminder that we are all part of his flock. 

Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:00

Good evening, little lambs. Tonight's story is called The Hundred Times Hill, inspired by the Gospel of Mark ten twenty eight thirty one. There is a kind of giving that feels like losing. You hold something dear close to your heart, a favorite toy, a special afternoon, a seat you always wanted, and you let it go for the sake of someone else. But tonight's gospel has a secret. When you give something up for Jesus and for love, something extraordinary happens. Not less comes back to you, but more, far, far more. And so tonight we're on Shepherd's Hill with Clover and her friends, who are about to discover exactly this. The afternoon had been warm and golden, and the whole meadow smelled of cut grass, and something sweet drifting up from the clover patch below. The lambs had gathered by the old stone well near the top of the hill. There was a meadow festival that evening. Biscuit had talked about almost nothing else for two whole days. There would be a honey cake the size of a cartwheel, and games by the long wall, and a shepherd who played the pipe would fill the whole valley with music. Every lamb had been saving something to bring. Biscuit bounced on her hooves, her golden brown tuft sticking straight up with excitement. I saved my very best ribbon, the yellow one, to wear in my wool tonight, she announced. It took me three whole weeks to save it. I saved my warm corner by the fire, said Pip, her enormous dark eyes bright. I'm going to sit in it all evening and watch the pipe player. Clover had saved something too, but she hadn't said what yet. She was holding it quietly in her heart. Matt stood a little to one side, his dark fleece absorbing the last warmth of the sun. Matt was always quiet about what things cost him. Then old Woolly looked slowly toward the far end of the hill. Down by the lower path a small lamb was sitting alone. She was very small, smaller even than Pip, with dusty brown wool and ears that flopped to one side. She was watching the festival preparations in the distance, with the look of a lamb who has decided not to want something because wanting it hurts too much. Clover felt something move in her chest. She had seen that look before. She had worn that look before. She looked down at what she had been holding in her heart. Her spot. She had found, just yesterday, the very best spot in the whole meadow to watch the pipe player. A flat rock right in the center of everything, surrounded by warm grass. She looked at the small lamb alone on the path. She looked at her spot. She sighed, just a small sigh, tucked her scarf a little tighter, and walked down the hill. Hello, she said. I'm Clover. What's your name? The small lamb blinked up at her. Nettle. Are you coming to the festival, Nettle? I don't know anyone, Nettle said softly. The words came out carefully, as if she had been carrying them for a while. Clover sat down beside her. You know me now. Come and sit in the best spot in the whole meadow. It's right in the middle of everything. Nettle stared at her. But it's your spot. It's better shared, said Clover. She wasn't entirely sure she believed it yet, but she said it anyway, because it felt true in a direction she couldn't quite see. They walked up together. When Jesus came as he always came, quietly and warmly, appearing at the edge of the firelight as the first stars blinked on. He settled himself on the grass near the stone well and looked around at all of them with the calm, unhurried eyes that always made every lamb feel like the only lamb in the world. He looked at Clover, and he smiled, just slightly, the kind of smile that says, I saw that. Later, when the honey cake had been eaten and the pipe player's last note was still trembling in the warm air above the valley. Jesus called them all close. Peter once said something to me, he began, his voice low and easy. We have given up everything to follow you, and I told him the truth. He paused. I said, There is no one who gives up something for my sake, or for the sake of love, who does not receive a hundred times more. Biscuit tilted her head. A hundred times but Clover gave up her spot for Nettle. She didn't get a hundred spots. Jesus looked at Clover. What did you receive tonight, Clover? Clover thought about it. She thought about Nettle watching the pipe player with eyes as wide as moon's. She thought about the way Nettle had laughed, a surprised little laugh, as if she had forgotten she knew how, when Biscuit bounded over with a full somersault. I got to see her face when the music started, she said slowly. And then Pip came and sat with us, and then Matt. And then it wasn't just my spot anymore. It was everyone's. She looked up. It was the biggest spot in the whole festival. Jesus nodded, his eyes steady and bright. You gave one spot and received a meadow. You gave one moment of love, and it multiplied, into new friends, into new belonging, into a joy bigger than any one lamb could hold alone. He was quiet for a moment. God is never outdone in generosity. Never. Old Woolley made a low sound, like a fire settling in the hearth. The last will be first, he said quietly, the way he always said things, as if they were very old and true. And the first will be last. He looked at little Nettle, who had fallen asleep curled against Pip's side. That one was sitting last of all. Look at her now. Clover looked. Nettle was tucked right in the warm center of the flock, surrounded on all sides. First now. Matt moved a little closer to the fire. Not much, but enough that the light reached his dark fleece. Is it always like that? Pip asked. When you give something up for love, do you always get more back? Not always in the way you expect, Jesus said honestly. And sometimes things are hard for a while. That is part of following me, and I will not pretend otherwise. But the belonging, the love, the joy that comes back, it is always real, and it always outweighs what you gave. The flock was quiet, the stars kept coming out, one by one, as if the sky itself were counting them up, a gift that kept arriving more and more, until it was too many to count. And tonight, little one, if you have ever given something away for someone else, even when it cost you something, Jesus sees it. He always sees it, and what you gave is never lost. It is given back to you in joy and in love and in belonging that fills your heart right up. That is the promise of the Good Shepherd. And he never, ever breaks his promises. And so tonight's gift is this. When we give something up out of love for Jesus or for someone who needs it, he gives back a hundred times more. Not always all at once, not always in the way we expect, but always in ways that are real and warm and wonderful. That is who God is. He can never be outdone in generosity. Good night. Dear Jesus, thank you for teaching us that giving is never losing. Help me to share what I have, my time, my spot, my kindness, even when it costs me something, and remind me that you always give back more than we could ever give. You are the most generous of all. Amen. Good night, little lamb. God loves you so much, sweet dreams.