If you learn nothing living on a farm, you learn that life does, indeed, go on. Even after something as ugly as The Great Chicken Massacre, there’s not much room (or time) to navel gaze over what’s taken place. There’s work to be done, and nature doesn’t have much patience for the wrestling of human emotions. It’s a hard lesson, but a good one. Our children, an integral part of not only our ministry but also our farming business, have now lived this first-hand.
While we continue working with the owner of the dogs who attacked our hens, we’ve also had to formulate a plan to maintain the continuity of our egg deliveries to loyal customers. We had planned a spring influx of chicks, but suddenly our egg numbers were too low to meet demand. Our children understand that while these birds are like pets, they are also a source of income. They help collect, package, and deliver eggs. Business is business, so…
Ten new mature chickens joined our flock. These are mostly ISA Browns, but one, named Primrose, is a lovely cross. And yes, Birdie has already fallen in love with her. (That’s her being banded below.)
They came home yesterday and by nightfall, our egg numbers had already increased. That means we can continue to not only sell eggs, but provide fresh eggs to our own family.
We’re enjoying getting to know these new birds while still missing our old friends. (Thinker and Houdini, especially, will never be forgotten.) But business is business, and here we are. Our children are learning, alongside us, what stewardship looks like. They skills— financial, practical, and emotional— they’re immersed in daily will shape them as adults. Even in these harder seasons of farm life, I’m thankful for the chance to give them this perspective of the real world.