Chickens and Butterflies.

I remember my first year as a minister in my third parish. It was Easter and the local chicken farm offered me one day old chickens to have in the church on Easter Sunday morning. The children loved it.

When I went to return the chickens later that day I was told that they would be killed because they could not return them to the others. They might have picked up some disease.

So my venture with hens and chickens began. Some months later I had forty hens some of them rare breeds. I also had some bantam hens that brought much pleasure.

I remember having a hen that was sitting on a clutch of eggs but she abandoned them. I brought them into the house and rigged up a heat lamp to keep them going.

Fortunately, a local farmer I was friendly with told me that when they started to break out to leave them to do this no matter how much I might want to help them in their struggle.

I also learned something else from this about nature when I heard about the young lad who had found a cocoon . He had found it at the side of the path attached to a broken twig. He had carefully carried it home and put it safely on the mantle shelf in a jar with plenty of holes in the lid.

The boy watched, as he studied the silky envelope. Almost imperceptibly at first, the cocoon moved. He watched more closely and soon the cocoon was trembling with activity. Nothing else happened. The cocoon remained tightly glued to the twig and there was no sign of wings.

Finally the shaking became so intense, the boy thought the butterfly would die from the struggle. He removed the lid on the jar, took a sharp pen knife from his desk drawer, and carefully made a tiny slit in the side of the cocoon. Almost immediately, one wing appeared and then outstretched the other. The butterfly was free!

It seemed to enjoy its freedom and walked along the edge of the jar and along the edge of the mantle. But it didn't fly. At first the boy thought the wings needed time to dry, but time passed and still the butterfly did not take off.

He was worried and went to visit his neighbour who taught high school science. 

He told the neighbour how he had found the cocoon, placed it in the jar, and the terrible trembling as the butterfly struggled to get out. When he described how he had carefully made a small slit in the cocoon, the teacher stopped him. 

"Oh, that is the reason. You see, the struggle is what gives the butterfly the strength to fly."

It is the struggle from the eggshell that gives the egg the strength to stand and almost instantly seek nourishment from the shell.

Sometimes it's the struggles in life that strengthen us the most. It is from the difficult times that we learn the greatest lessons.

The artist is often faced with a painting that is not working and either abandons or begins afresh. The lessons learned the artist carries to the canvas of tomorrow.

Have a lovely day.