A letter to Mom

Mother hen and baby chick

Short story by Perry F.

There was once a mother hen who was all white. Her mouth and her crown were red and her voice was strong and smooth. She lived in a shed near a small lake. She liked to make funny sounds with her mouth and fuddle around in the grass. One day, she laid some eggs, and they were fertile. There were 11 eggs in total and she took great care of them. She stopped playing with the frogs and whispering to the clouds and spent all day sitting on her eggs, making sure they were warm and protected. She sang to them songs that she remembered her own mother singing to her, when she was still a thumping heartbeat inside an egg, learning what it meant to be alive. When it was time for the eggs to hatch, she made a small opening on each of the eggs with her beak and watched as each of her chicks found their way out. Some came out instantly and were full of sunshine. Some were more hesitant and a little bit afraid. They were all beautiful. She gathered them all around her and spread her wings wide so that every bit of them felt warm and safe. She vowed to herself to be the best mother hen she had ever seen and care for them with all of her heart. And she did just that. Every morning she would wake up excited to feed and nurture them, and every night she would go to sleep happy to have spent another day with them. When they grew older and stronger, she taught them how to dig for worms, how to clean their plumes, and how to stay warm in winter. She also taught them how to sing and play. They were happy chicks who spent many hours running in the sun and frolicking in the water.

There was just one bird who couldn't seem to find her place. She was a good chick, very soft and full of light, but she wasn't happy. She tried to be happy. She tried to laugh with the others, frolic in the water, and chant their tunes, and sometimes, she would feel happy for a little while, but it never lasted long. It was as if the sun wasnt bright enough for her and the laughter couldnt charm her. Mother noticed and tried to help her. She would sneak over an extra worm at dinner and stay an extra moment when it was time to say goodnight. But mother had never felt such sadness, and so she didnt really know how to comfort her. She tried to remember the things her own mother did to her when she was sad. She prepared her warm food but the chick wouldn't eat it. She got her pretty things but the chick wouldn't enjoy it very much. Her sadness was too deep.

As the chick grew older her pain grew with her. She grew more distant from the other chicks and from her mother. She tried to ask for help in the ways she knew how, but they couldn't understand even when they tried really hard. She grew angry and frustrated. She did things to hurt herself and her family, never having learnt any other way to express her feelings. Mother could barely recognize this dark and angry bird that was her child and it frightened her. She turned away from her daughter and tried not to have much to do with her. The other chicks were also confused and pretended like she wasn't there. For a long time they lived like that, each hiding in their own confusion, not knowing how to bridge the gap.

One day the bird left the little shed near the lake to find a new dwelling place. She left to try and understand herself. She felt it called for solitude, exploration, and a certain amount of space. She never really said goodbye and mother was never the same after that. Mother started to feel afraid of dark clouds in ways she never did before. She forgot about the sweet songs she used to sing to her chicks. Forgot about how much she missed the frogs. She felt sad for her child, because she loved her very much, and she felt sad for herself, because it felt to her like she had lost something very precious. Like a beautiful thing had slipped from her fingers and she didn't know if she would ever get it back.

The bird went here and there and went through many struggles to find her place. To find a place she could call home. There were many times she wanted to give up and fly far away with the dark winds, but she could not. There was always a whisper in her ear that showed her the way, an echo in her heart that filled her with hope, and a fire in her soul that wouldn't let her stop.

Slowly, ever so slowly, she started to see more of the light. She learnt how to navigate her own inner forests. She learnt to be a warrior. She planted seeds on the most barren lands and watched roses grow. They grew because she kept on watering them, every day, with hope, with song, and with love. She met others, with stories like her own, who showed her that it was possible to rise. They strengthened each other, and together, they gathered the dust that had accumulated all over the earth and paved new paths. They paved paths of freedom. Paths of trust. Paths of forgiveness. Paths of love. Paths that were soft to the feet of chickens and tigers alike. Paths of light. Paths that when merged together form a whole new world. A world with open skies and where every soul feels at home. She understood that it was her work, to help pave these roads for a new earth. She understood that her own struggles were the candles, showing her where new roads needed to be paved. She learnt to find joy in it, because ultimately, it was honorable work. Work that required much humility and wisdom. Work that filled one's bones with promise. She chose to turn her life into a gift. A gift to herself and a gift to all life on earth and beyond for eternity.

When she understood this she took a pen and wrote this letter to mother, hoping that maybe, maybe, one day she too will understand.

The end for now.