So last Tuesday all our chickens were killed. Yeah, it wasn’t fun. Let me share the story with you. I actually do have a picture as well, but I’m not gruesome enough to post it.
We had just gotten back from town and when I got out to unload the groceries I noticed feathers all over the driveway. I told the kids not to follow me and started toward the chicken coop. As I was nearing the coop, my neighbors’ dog came tearing out from the other side of the coop and ran home. I knew there was a problem even before I rounded the coop and saw eight dead chickens. I felt horrible. Of course, the kids wanted to know what was wrong and were starting to come over. I wasn’t very friendly when I ordered them to get in the house; I didn’t think they needed to see it. Aaron was out of town, so I called him to let him know. It was probably a good thing that he was gone, or the neighbors’ dog would also be dead now. I cleaned up the bodies (sounds like a crime scene) and then went inside to cook dinner. I really didn’t like the chickens, in fact, I had just had a discussion with Aaron about finding them new homes, but I was really upset about how we’d ended up getting rid of them. We sat down for dinner and Kessie asked to pray. Her prayer went something like this, “Dear Heavenly Father, Please bless Daddy. Please help us to find one chicken. All our chickens are dead. Please help us to find just one……” When she was done, I just sat there frustrated and tried to explain that they were gone. The kids kept insisting that we had nine chickens, not eight. Well, I don’t know. I was never on chicken duty, so I didn’t keep track, but I was pretty sure that none of them had survived. I realized that I had forgotten to get the juice so I went over to the sink to put water in my pitcher to make the juice. I happened to look up and glance out the window…..”What the….You have got to be kidding me…” I said a few other things that aren’t really appropriate, not that they’re horrible, but substitutions of surprised cuss words. There, standing just outside the window next to a bush was our last chicken. She was totally fine without even a feather missing. I had been sure that if there was a chicken left she would be hiding and we would find her later, frozen to death. But no, there she was. I yelled at Louie and Lanny to go round her up and get her locked in the coop. She escaped because she is as wild as you can get. We can’t even go near her, let alone that dog. After my excited exclamations, I heard Kessie say, “I knew it! I prayed!” She had absolutely no doubt that her prayer would be answered, and it was. I was totally ashamed of my lack of faith, and so proud of my little girl. It was just a chicken, just one chicken, but her faith was firm. It was definitely a faith building experience for me…but wait, I still had learning to do. When it was time for bed, Kessie asked to say the family prayer. Well, she had said the last prayer, so I was going to have someone else say it, but she really wanted to. “But, Mom, I want to thank Heavenly Father for finding our chicken.” Yeah, out of the mouth of babes. She remembered to give thanks for the blessings we had gotten. I’m sad that I wasn’t the one teaching my children, but very thankful for the lessons my children had taught me that day. I feel truly blessed to have such spirits in my home.FYI: Aaron will say I'm jinxing everything, but we have some exciting news to share on Friday! No, we're not expecting!