Ten Little Chicks

This story has two parts, so let me start at it’s genesis, though little did I know when it was happening that it would be the genesis of anything.

Preface:

In Uganda, people have great joy.

This is a general state of content joy, without conditions. (I think this is because when they have their NEEDS met, that is enough. There is not a confusion of needs verses wants here. There is not the bombardment of keeping up with the newest, latest, most awesome whatever because what they have works). BUT when a gift is given, such as a new backpack filled with scholastic material, an even greater joy and appreciation overflows.

Often this excitement and appreciation is expressed through this signature African call, “Ayeyeyeyeyeeee!”, hands waving around the air. With little tangible possessions, it is often not store-bought “things” that Ugandans give back as an expression of their appreciation, but rather crops or animals from their farms.

Back to the genesis:

During the season of summer teams, the children and staff of LCH were divided into 12 groups and sent out into the community to be a blessing to our neighbors, delivering Backpacks of Promise to 100 school going village children. (see post “It is better to give than to receive”)

My group went to one of the farther areas. Climbing up the side of the hill to find huts and mud houses settled among the tropical terrain is surprising. But at every home we were welcomed warmly, with chairs being rushed out for us to sit on and handshakes all around from everyone who was in the vicinity.

At one of the homes, after giving the backpack to the school aged child, the mother did not want us to leave empty handed. Instructing us to wait, she disappeared behind the house. We then heard her shouting for her daughter to go around the other side of the house. Everything happening in the local language, I was unaware of what was going on until one of our teachers instructs the LCH children I was with to help the mother chase down a chicken. And off they went. Running through the shrubs and coffee plants.

To catch a chicken you must be fast. And in true chicken hunting fashion, you must be willing to make the dive when the perfect timing and cornering has been accomplished. So, with laughter and cheers, I see Charles dart away behind the house. Then he appears again still following a white chicken. The next events happened quickly: a dive, a grab, a chicken screech, and Charles stands up victorious, chicken in hand. In ceremonious way, he handed the chicken to the village child who had received the backpack so that that child could hand the chicken to the LCH child who had given her the backpack, while kneeling to show appreciation and respect.

My team returned with 3 chickens that afternoon. And that was the last I thought about those chickens until about 2 months later….

In comes part 2 of the story:

I was moving around the LCH compound chatting with some of the girls when I looked over towards a small wooden structure near the administrator’s house and saw one of our boys, Charles intently looking inside. I knew that the structure was the “dog pen” for awhile but the puppies had now outgrow it. So I went over to see what he was looking at.

To my surprise, there were two hens and ten little chicks inside the pen.

I asked Charles whose chicks those were. He replied, “Mine. They are the ones we got in the village when we gave the backpacks. ”  A bit confused I inquired more. He began explaining to me that when we returned to LCH he had been looking after the hens. Then one laid an egg so he put it in the pen. Then another egg and so on.

Now let me say that Charles rarely speaks, at least to me. And as he was explaining, he completely lit up. He continued to explain that there are three boxes in the pen because all three hens we received are now laying eggs. So he keeps them in their boxes while he is at school and lets them out in the morning and evening so they can graze.

I pointed out an exceptionally white chick and told him that was my favorite. He said that the white hen it was with was not its mom. Curious, I asked how that could be. He said that the mom of my favorite chick had cracked its egg. Charles found it cracked, put it in a tin can, and somehow covered the can so that the ant would not get to the egg. Through his love and care this chick survived!

So now Charles has 3 hens and 10 chicks and I am so proud of him.