"Mom! I think something's in the coop! I hear a lot of noise!"
It was the battle cry young boys live to hear. I dashed for my shoes as my three sons grabbed all manner of weapons (foam swords, shields, air soft guns and the like).
We raced to the chicken coop...
We were so sad to see only the feathers of our dear hen, Charlotte.
She had been at the top of the pecking order (not counting the rooster).
We always said she was a fighter, a survivor.
And then, I broke the cardinal rule of {mini} farming.
I cried. In front of my kids. About a chicken.
In my defense, I was sick with a fever. But still. I was disappointed we had lost yet another chicken. We had plans to make the area more predator-proof this spring.
With my own eyes, I've seen a bobcat and coyote on our property this first year at our little farmstead. We also hear owls. So, we have an idea of what's around. There was a time when all this wildlife would have really scared me. But this is home and we love it. We feel safe and we are learning.
Feeling defeated, my little homesteaders and I headed back inside.
Later that night, my husband called me to the front door.
The sweetest surprise awaited!
Charlotte!
Turns out she is a fighter and a survivor. She'd found her way home - and
to the front door no less! We've never been so happy to see a chicken. :)
And that was our little chicken miracle.
Thank you for stopping by today. I'm wishing you a faith-filled,
miraculous day for both the little and big things in your life...
xo
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