The Unexpected Tale of Rosie & Mabel: A Parable from Raising Chickens

Once upon a time there were four young chickens. Among these spring-hatched sisters was the largest, a silvery gray bird named Mabel. And of course, as with any group of animals, there was the runt of the litter. Despite the children's attempts to give her food or extra cuddles to help her grow, tiny Rosie was nearly half the size of Mabel.

I'd read up on the care of new chicks in depth, for though I grew up on an Iowan farm with animals all around I'd never cared for chickens. In this newly acquired information, there was the caution to keep an eye on the largest and the smallest. Unfortunately, it's common for chickens to develop a "pecking order" and the littlest ones can often be picked on to the point of injury or even death.

Despite little Rosie's lack of ability to find the best snacks compared to her more sizable flock members, she seemed to be doing alright. While the four would occasionally seem to play flutter around at one another, there was no serious harm done. More often than not, they'd be peacefully cohabitating as their personalities began to develop. I found them surprisingly entertaining and felt thankful daily for their silly selves. They had an interesting way of bringing me back to the present moment should my mind grow stuck on thoughts unpleasant. My lungs were filled with fresh morning and evening air, no matter the weather, for they must be let out and back in again each day and night.

One particular evening, both children and I were especially worn out from the day I found myself gently shook awake to my husband's hand on my shoulder, reminding me of the chickens needing to be tucked in for the night. Feeling bad that I'd drifted off beside the kids and left them out after sundown, I quickly gathered my jacket and slid on my moccasin slippers as I sleepily trudged outside. The cold air slapped me awake as nights were still chilly in early spring. As always, my eyes rose to assess the night sky and I was thankful to find brilliant stars out in abundance. Smiling, I took pause to marvel at their beauty before heading to the backyard. Once near the door their outdoor run, I saw a blob of dark feathers that appeared far too small to be four individual birds. They'd huddled together for warmth and safety.

As I removed the first two chicks, it appeared that only one bird was left to bring in. "Oh no," I thought. "What if little Rosie got lose sneaking out the back corner... or a critter got her?!

I peered closer and was delighted to discover that Mabel was roosting half overtop Rosie! Her warm and broad chest was like a heater and Mabel's little friend was happily nestled into her warmth and protection. Only Rosie's little tail feathers were visable! They both complained with vigor as I began to pick them up and bring them out of the cold, clearly quite mutually happy for the arrangement. I chuckled to myself as I recalled our daughter telling me while working in the gardens that she thought Mabel was mothering little Rosie. Not witnessing the behavior personally (and hearing hundreds of reflections about the chicks behavior daily) I dismissed the observation with a casual "that's nice honey!" and continued digging.

But watching the warmth of their presence with one another touched my heart as we ventured into the world of raising chickens. Here I'd been warned to stay vigilant for the exact opposite... and we've seen it happen.

Can you spot little Rosie huddled under Mabel? P.S. Don't feel bad about their rainy environment... they were tucked inside all warm and cozy immediately after this photo!

We've all observed times when the big chicken in the room uses their bigness, real or perceived, to push those littler around. To pick on them, peck at their feathers, and make them feel unwelcome in a space where they have equal right to be. They hoard resources to themselves instead of sharing, when there is certainly enough for everyone. They leave those who need warmth and protection most out in vulnerable places.

We've seen this behavior displayed in the most powerful of positions. Yet when one chooses to behave in such a selfish and egotistical manner, they're unlikely to make it for long. In nature you'll see examples all around us of how much we're all connected. Group animals who believe themselves to be better than and use their abilities to only harm others aren't meant to be a part of the natural ecosystem. Either eventually nobody of their own species wants to be around them and they die off... alone and bitter, or they create an environment that so lacks the beauty of diversity that disease overtakes them. The natural world is balanced, and groups of animals that care for one another, nurture their young (or at least provide an environment for them to thrive) are the ones who do well.

Leadership isn't simply the act of sitting in a position of power. True leaders of our natural world ensure their entire group is fed and protected. They put their own well-being on the line to ensure it, and prioritize the needs of the most vulnerable members of their flock.

In a world that too often glorifies "big" and aggressive behavior, be a Mabel.

Be a Mabel.