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Maggie the Chicken, Page 2

Marian Hailey-Moss


  There was the sound of eggs dropping like rain onto troughs outside the cages—all of them denied a chance at life.

  Sunshine explained: “Everything done here is against Mother Nature. You have had a glimpse of what factory farms and large poultry farms are like.”

  “I don’t want to see anymore.”

  “No one wants to see this. I was lucky. I died young here. When I woke up, I was in a high school art class on the Upper Westside. Angelina was putting my spirit in the egg-of-hearts that she had sculpted.” Sunshine paused: “Now try the other door.”

  “I’m afraid of what I’ll see.”

  “Angelina wants you to understand.”

  Mia closed her eyes and opened the door on the right. Although fearful, she slowly opened her eyes to see a beautiful blue sky, white clouds, and green trees. There was a large patch of dirt dotted with brown and green grasses. A young man was pouring feed into pans, setting down lettuce leaves, and scattering chicken scratch here and there. Brown, white, and speckled hens were clucking, pecking, and occasionally running back to their hutch. A proud rooster was strutting back and forth while a mother hen with five fluffy chicks scratched nearby. All of them seemed healthy, happy, and eager to enjoy the day.

  “Sunshine, this is heaven,” said Mia.

  “This is a small family farm run by people who care. Chickens here can live eight to ten years, sometimes even more. They are free to walk around and express themselves. They are friendly, intelligent, and sometimes mischievous. Everything here is in harmony with nature.” Sunshine paused and looked directly at her: “We keep hoping that if we’re good enough, if we keep giving enough, someday all of us will be able to live like this.”

  “That’s what I want for Maggie,” said Mia. “How can I thank you?”

  “Well, you can…”

  The voice gradually faded, and Mia again heard that strange whooshing sound.

  “What did you say, Sunshine?”

  She felt as if she was being carried through a whirlwind. Finally she landed on something soft.

  “Sunshine?”

  There was no answer.

  Mia slowly sat up in bed. Everything was dark and quiet except for Bubble’s snoring. There was a dim afterglow from the egg-of-hearts, which was now all in one piece again, on the dressing table.

  Mia settled back into her pillow. Before she could whisper, “Thank you, Angelina,” she was fast asleep.

  7.

  The next morning, Mia’s mother heard about the strange dream, and she knew that what her daughter had dreamed was true. She felt she had to help Maggie—for her daughter’s sake, and for her own peace of mind.

  She called a sanctuary for farm animals in upstate New York. They didn’t have room to take more animals, but suggested that she call Mr. Waverly, who had a family farm outside of Woodstock. She reached Mrs. Waverly and learned that they would be happy to take Maggie. She promised Mia’s mother that Maggie could live peacefully there and wouldn’t end up on someone’s dinner plate.

  Mia heard the news with great joy in her heart. She knew that the Waverlys’ farm would be a good, safe home.

  But Mia’s father was not willing to make the trip. It was too far, he said. He had a great deal of work to do. He couldn’t spend a day off driving three hours each way for a chicken. He had found a poultry farm in New Jersey that was close by.

  Mia’s hopes were crushed.

  The next morning, Mia’s family got ready to bring Maggie to her new home. Mia’s father asked that she put Maggie’s travel box, a small carrier with air holes on top, at the front door so they could load the car quickly.

  “Why are you bringing your suitcase, Mia?” he asked.

  “Bubbles and I are going to go and live with Maggie. We want to make sure she’s not going to become chicken soup.”

  Mia’s father was quiet for a minute. “Mia, come here please.”

  He kneeled down, looked straight into her eyes, and then gave her a big hug. “If you can feel such loyalty for a little lost chicken, I guess we’d better take Maggie to the Waverlys. Call them and tell them we’ll be there this afternoon. I’ll load up the car.”

  After the packing was done and Maggie was comfortable in her travel box, Mia’s family made the long journey. They drove to the countryside near Woodstock, where the Waverlys had their farm. One of the sons was there to meet them. Mia’s mother held on to Bubbles and kept her in the car.

  Mia opened the top of the travel box and whispered, “We’re here, Maggie. This is your wonderful new home. There’s even a water wheel and a stream running through it.” She dropped the egg-of-hearts in Maggie’s travel box for good luck. Maggie ruffled her feathers and covered the egg-of-hearts with one wing, as if to give it comfort.

  The Waverly’s son had a friendly wide smile and carefully took the travel box in his arms when Mia’s father handed it to him.

  “Let’s set her down and see how she does,” he said.

  After being placed on the ground, Maggie stood motionless for a moment, as though astonished that she was in an open space. She started walking forward and then began pecking in excitement at the corn scratch on the ground. She grazed on a few blades of grass and then with delight she noticed—bugs! She pecked away with zeal.

  The nearby hens came up to investigate. One of them chased Maggie around the yard for a bit as though saying, “Who do you think you are, stranger?” After a few minutes, the hen went back to her chicks and left Maggie alone.

  “It takes a new hen a little while to settle in before the other chickens get used to her,” The son explained. “But so far this seems pretty good. I think she’ll soon fit in with the others.”

  “It looks like she’s eating insects,” said Mia.

  “Yes,” said the son. “Chickens eat bugs.” He went on to explain how the chicken diet helps keep everything in balance. Without birds, the earth would be overrun by insects, and people would have a much smaller food supply. “Nature is very good to us if we listen to it and respect its ways.”

  The farmyard scene was peaceful with the chickens strolling around. “We have twenty acres here with plenty of room for the animals: cows, goats, ducks, and our old draft horse, Rosy. We have a big vegetable garden on the other side of the barn. Want to see?”

  They had to get back to the city before long, but Mia’s dad agreed that since they drove all the way out here, they might as well have a look around.

  The Waverlys’ farm was even better than her dream with Sunshine. The expanse of land behind the house gave rise to a feeling of freedom, as if Mia could fly. Horses and cows were grazing here and there or serenely lying in the field. She fell in love with Rosy, the big draft horse who had a long mane and beautiful hair on top of her huge hooves. ‘She must be a rescue,’ Mia thought. ‘I bet she would have stories to tell.’

  The air was wonderfully fresh with smells of animals, trees, and plant life. Maybe in the summer she could visit and help out on a farm like this. In the meantime, her dad reminded her that they needed to get back to the city.

  “I think now’s a good time to leave,” said Mia. “Maggie won’t notice while she is busy settling in. You have such a wonderful farm. I’m so happy that she found a good home.”

  “You and your family must come again when you can spend a day. I’ll introduce you to all the other animals. You can even help me gather eggs and brush the horses.” Mia beamed at the idea of petting horses.

  They reached the car, and all thanked the Waverly son. “Good-bye for now, Maggie,” she called out. She scrunched her toes to keep from tearing up.

  Mia waved good-bye from the car window even after the Waverly farmyard was far out of sight. It was a long ride back to the city. Her mother had made sandwiches, but Mia wasn’t hungry. Her parents talked and Bubbles looked out the window. Mia felt a strange emptiness in the car without her friend Maggie.

  ***

  A week went past, and Mia anxiously called the farm. She talked to Mr. Wave
rly who said that Maggie was still trying to settle in. She seemed a bit listless and usually kept to herself.

  “Does Maggie have the egg-of-hearts with her?” asked Mia.

  “As a matter of fact, my wife thought it so pretty that she brought it inside. It’s part of the centerpiece on our table. We enjoy it with every meal.”

  “If you could do me a favor—can you please put it next to where Maggie nests? I think it will help.”

  A couple of days later, Mr. Waverly called Mia and told her that, after they placed the egg-of-hearts near Maggie’s nest, she began to perk up. “Maggie’s even taking dust baths, mingling with the other hens, and napping in the sun. She is very happy now.”

  After hearing this news, Mia knew that there was a force for goodness in the world. You simply have to tap into it. The best way is listening very closely to your heart.

  She remembered Sunshine in her dream talking about hope: that chickens keep hoping that if they’re good enough, if they keep on giving, that people will one day realize that all of them deserve to have good homes.

  Mia understood that she had learned a great truth through meeting Maggie. She was certain that someday people and chickens would find a better way to live together.

  “Come on, Bubbles,” said Mia. “Let’s go for your walk. I wonder who we’ll meet this time.”

  Thanks to

  Doris Solomon, LCSW; and Mary Nell Anderson

  Special thanks to

  Supreme Master Ching Hai

  Heartfelt Thanks

  to

  CHRIS STOVER

  About the Author

  Marian Hailey-Moss is a former actress and a semi-retired psychotherapist. She champions the humane treatment of animals. Marian is a vegan and lives in New York City. Visit Marian at https://www.marianhaileymoss.com

  About the Artist

  MARC CHALVIN is a Parisian artist who fills his drawings and his animations with life, whimsy, and wisdom. Marc feels they speak for themselves.

  Children’s Books by Marian Hailey-Moss

  Teatime with Sophie

  A Palace for Peepers

  with Andrea End

  A Dog Named Randall

  with Mark Wilk

  Milky Whey’s Dream

  Mister Pepper’s Secret

  An Elephant Called Butterfly

  with Lois Meredith

  An Elephant Called Mira

  PEACEFOOD