The Lamb Who Came for Dinner is a laugh-aloud favourite for our children. I was delighted to discover it in a local library so I could photograph it and share it as part of the DFF book club.

This book is the winner and finalist in three different children's book awards in Britain.

This is not normally the type of book I choose for the DFF book club. The characters are unoriginal, the illustrations are ordinary and the yet … it’s unpredictable and the moral is inline with the philosophies we want to model for our children. Plus, this can be a really fun book to read aloud (more on that later).

"You're just in time for dinner!" sniggered the old wolf.

French illustrator Joelle Dreidemy has a wonderful portfolio of exciting illustrations. I don’t think this book is her best work, however.

After the lamb is in his house, the wolf starts looking in his recipe book for meal ideas.

British author Steve Smallman creates a big, bad wolf. We aren’t supposed be under any illusions that this character likes lamb — for dinner.

But an unfamiliar feeling starts overwriting the hunger pangs. What's an old wolf to do when he receives an innocent cuddle from the lamb?

And then a kiss? "That's not fair!" roars the wolf.

The wolf discovers that he is starting to feel affection for his tasty-smelling visitor, so in an attempt at lamb-preservation, he sends the lamb away.

The wolf kicks the lamb out of his house and refuses to open the door to her pleas.

Once the lamb is outside, the wolf starts to imagine all the dangers that await a succulent lamb in the deep, dark woods. His concern leads him to go searching for the lamb. The reunion is predictable but no less delightful.

There's a happy reunion in the end.

This is the moral that I want our kids to internalise: love conquers all. Even a bloodthirsty predator can be won over with genuine compassion. What a great message for children to hear!

Now here’s the real reason that I wanted to feature this book. I heard it read by none other than Meatloaf, and the entertainer does such a good job of telling the story, that you’ll fall in love with this book (and perhaps Meatloaf) too!

So many times I read books merely to get to the end of the pile that is brought to me. But Meatloaf shows how reading a picture book aloud can be so much fun! All bored librarians who are reluctantly rostered for story-time should watch this and see how pleasurable kids’ stories can be.

If you want your own copy, The Lamb Who Came for Dinner is available on Book Depository and Amazon.

Our late-night outings mean we approach the truck well after dark.

“There’s a monster about!” the woman shouts at us as we wander home from the train station late at night. “Keep your children safe.”

Three-year-old Calista has run thirty metres ahead of us and is looking in the window of the only business still open at this time of night — a pizza shop. “I shouldn’t even be out,” the woman continues. “It’s dangerous in this part of town.”

We listen sympathetically, letting the woman share her burden of fear. For she has heard stories that make her so afraid that she is almost reduced to tears when she notices our little girls skipping along the pavement at midnight. “Don’t you know what could happen to your babies?”

This woman has become so preoccupied with the things that she is afraid of that she has to share it with others, with anyone who will listen. And so we listen. We take her burden from her, reassuring her that we’ll keep our children safe and that she’ll get home safely too.

Picture fear as a small, grey cloud that sits over someone’s head. When that person invests time and energy into that fear, the cloud becomes darker and heavier. At some point, it starts to rest on its victim’s head and shoulders and inhibits the way they walk and act. This person can find release by offering some of their great, grey burden to another person.

So we take up the burden of this woman’s fears. And then, as we continue on our way in the dark, we drop the burden and proceed in confidence. For tonight we are not afraid to walk in a “bad” neighbourhood. Sometimes we are not afraid of anything.

We haven’t always been fearless. And we aren’t always so bold. Sometimes we are so paralysed by our own thoughts and worries that our guts churn in anticipation of events that never occur.

The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.

We are learning how true Roosevelt’s quote is. For fear is stepping outside of the present moment and forecasting a future that is dire. It clouds our minds and prevents us from enjoying where we are at the time. Fear is an unpleasant mixture of pessimism and masochism.

This is the day that was made for me. I will rejoice and be glad in it. The future is already written, and it is good, so why should I be afraid?

When we share our fears with someone, it is because we are so consumed with them that we cannot see another way to feel better apart from unloading our burden. A strong listener can receive their friend’s fears and discard them without making them his or her own.

This is what we’re learning to do. We’re learning to pick up on others’ fears, to share the burden and then to let it go without internalising it. When I am strong, no one can convince me to be afraid.

And we are careful not to share our fears with our children. They are innocent of fear stories except for the ones they are told and make their own. If we have fears that consume us, our challenge is to contain them and not pass them on to the next generation.

There is no fear in love. But perfect love casts out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love.

We want to be perfect in love. And fear has no role in a life that is resting in love and faith. So we release our fears when they creep into our minds and encourage others to do the same.

We’re back in Blacktown, parking at the same location as in October last year and still hoping to meet up with our Sudanese friend Deng.

Our parking spot on a vacant block of land is so peaceful that David and I can sleep outside on a blanket.

Upon approaching some Dinka men on the main street, we soon learned that Deng is now back from Sudan and we received his phone number. It was wonderful to talk to him on the phone, and we’ll be able to catch up with him on the weekend when he’s off work. Until then, we’ll be playing in Blacktown — visiting the shops, riding the escalators, reading at the library and perhaps sleeping under the stars again!