Strong or Bloodiness

On July 15 in lunar calendar, I came to my hometown for visiting graves of my ancestors to cherish the memory of them. We killed two sheep as the sacrifice. It recalled my first sight at the scene of killing sheep 18 years ago. At that time, my young heart was too weak to bear such a usual and cruel slaughter. I cried secretly for the little sheep to be slaughtered and was unwilling to eat its meat. Now, I can sit back and watch the knife cut off the throat, watch the sheep struggle till death, watch the sheepskin be taken off and enjoy its meat with relish. I don't know whether I should be pleased for my strong or feel sad for our bloodiness.