
March 23, 1967
I
overheard our calf "chorus" the other day. With the barn door open, I got
full benefit of their concert. I didn't realize they could harmonize. They
were "bawling" in 3 or 4 parts.
CHICKS, bunnies and eggs.
The
store-bought variety are plastic, candy and cardboard, but on the farm you
will find the real thing.
A mother
hen and her chicks are something you just don't see nowadays. It was a cozy
sight to see one settled down in the straw with her little ones peeking out
from under her wings.
Now
chicks come in quantities from the hatchery and the mother hen has gone out
of date.
I SUPPOSE every farmer's wife has
tried her hand at raising chicks. At this time of the year we reminisce over
those days of excitement, work and worry.
Bringing
the baby chicks home from the hatchery was a big event. The chicks came into
their new home in big cardboard boxes. It was an enjoyable task to take each
little warm ball of fluff out of the box and set it on its two wirey legs.
Soon the brooder-house was full of "cheeping chicks", busy using their little
beaks to investigate.
They
needed very warm quarters. We would have to shed our wraps as we came in the
door.
They were
delicate creatures in those early days of their life. A drop in temperature
would cause them to pile up and smother. Lots of attention and care was
required to get them off to a good start, and there always were some losses.
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When
chicks are brand new to the world they are cuddly and sweet, but as they grow
into the feather-stage, taking care of them soon becomes a chore. At least,
that's one woman's opinion.
Little
chick,
Tell me quick,
What is Easter?
"Yesterday my home
Was an eggshell tomb,
dark
confining
still
Where joy was nil.
"Then my tomb broke
And I awoke
To a bright day,
to run
to fly
to play
To New Life!
That is Easter."
"HE LOVED me and gave Himself for me"
are precious words to meditate on during this Holy Week. When they have taken
root in the heart there will blossom forth a most glorious Easter morn.
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