Sad Lessons for Farm Boys

One of our hens has been having health issues and Sunday we made the decision to put her out of her misery.  It was a great learning opportunity for our sons with principles to discuss about stewardship, kindness and having to do hard things when we don't really want to.

 

 

Our youngest two were really excited about the possiblity of getting the hatchet out and for all we can guess didn't really understand the whole concept of what was about to happen.

 

Let's just say it was all fun and games until the head came off and they saw blood.

 

Then there was much wailing and tears and gnashing of teeth.

And blood and feathers.

 

Ryland, our-pastor-in-the-making, offered up a sweet prayer before the deed was done,

"Now I lay me down to sleep..."

 

Our littlest men were distraught and our oldest two were just all business as they helped to clean up and dig the hole.  Some of the cries from Ryland and Langston sounded like:

"I wish there was a heaven for chickens."

"Why did it have to be the Rhode Island Red?  That is my second favorite kind of chicken."

"Why did Adam have to sin?"

 

It was so sad I didn't know whether to laugh or cry, but Ryland did ask me to take some pictures of the funeral.  I tried so hard not to laugh, really I did.

 

 

If you look closely you can see he wrote '2013 Good by' on the grave marker.

 

I'm not sure that this was really Henrietta but Ryland didn't think we should leave a grave marker blank so what's written is written.

 

Winter is hanging on with a vengeance in these parts and the only things blooming are weeds so we pulled some fresh weeds from the pea rows to mark the grave site, in lieu of flowers.

Seriously, this kills me.  It was so heart wrenching to see their despair but led to such a good conversation about eternity and the importance of knowing for certain that through Jesus our eternal destiny is secure.

 

It hurts a little bit less for these two today.  Mrs. Webster gave them some peppermint candies to ease their broken hearts and Ryland was so thankful that someone cared enough to "brighten his loss."

 

Farm sons.

 

{Our puppy better not ever die. Ever.}