Our Miracle

There was a time when my kids were little when we hatched and raised chickens. We purchased eggs (only a few as we knew our limitations) in the early spring, placed them in an incubator, then waited patiently. The chicks that hatched were precious and allowed my children to witness new life entering this world.

One cool spring morning, three tiny chickens pecked and cracked their shells as if effortless. They turned out just fine, healthy and fluffy, readily eating and drinking…pecking and chirping away.

Only one struggled. He managed to break free from his shell, but it was if all of that effort zapped the life out of him before it even began. His faint chirps were barely audible and instead of standing up, he flopped to the side with labored breath.

This baby chick became my mission in life. I gently cradled his weak body in the incubator. I mixed nutrients with water — then used a syringe to feed him several times a day. My kids and I named him Miracle — because he was one.

Miracle’s broken and immature body simply couldn’t sustain the life spark that existed within him. He lay on his side and chirped weakly each time I approached — moving his head to meet my warm hands as if he knew how much I cherished his little life.

I begged our neighbor, a veterinarian, to come check on him…to help me save him. I kept watch each…