Guest Post...and it has no title too! (Chicken Tears and Little Boy Fears)

One of my very dearest, bestest friends wrote this. I had to post it...she actually sent it to me to post. But because she couldn't think of a title and she thinks of the BEST titles, I have not a title for you....

Maybe Chicken Tears and Little Boy Fears.........

One of my newest chicks stood in the lilac bush, sadly clucking to herself. I felt a pain in my heart. Eight of the nine other chickens hate this chicken. When they see her, they jump on her back or peck at her until she scurries away. If chickens could cry, this one would have been. The only other chicken who will tolerate her is the one she came to our home with, but even he would rather be with the other group.

We named this one Vulture, because that is what she looks like. Although she’s very sweet, her looks are ominous. Perhaps that is why she disappeared for two days. I looked and looked for that little chicken and feared her dead. Then on a hunch, I had my husband move the giant pile of brush in our garden with the tractor. We figured if she was stuck in there she’d die anyway. So the fact that moving the pile could kill her was a chance we were willing to take; she flew out of the pile unharmed. Was living under a wood pile better than the life she had with the other chickens?

As I broke up yet another chicken fight and watched her “cry” in the lilac bush, I thought about my son. He just started first grade. I homeschooled him for three years, this is his first year in a traditional school. He has had social issues since infancy. Even as a baby, my playtime interaction with him could cause an outburst of tears. He is different to be sure. I worried about him from the second I dropped him off at school.

“Mom, I feel like none of the other kids see me”, he said. His little lip was quivering and tears welled up in his eyes. Any pain I had felt for the chick was quadrupled when it came to my beautiful child. We had the talk about making the first move and asking other boys to play with him. He’s scared that if he does, they’ll reject him. I know all too well what is to come in these primary school years. Let’s face it, kids can be cruel. They may not physically abuse him, like my poor little chicken, but because of his differences he could be emotionally scarred by their teasing.

This is one of those times in life when I just have to trust God; I can trust that He will take care of my boy at school. I pray that He will keep an eye on my son the way that I keep an eye on my chick, only in a perfect way that I cannot compete with. The boy and the chicken will soon grow up and be able to take care of themselves. The difference is I won’t need to keep guarding the chicken its whole life, but I will be asking God to take care of the boy for a life time.