On Being Asked to Deliver a Chicken to the School

As we walk to school in the lonely doom and gloom of another cold, dark morning, I snap a photo. The day feels heavy.

Then, out of nowhere, someone drives up to me and my friends to ask if we’d help her deliver a live chicken to the front office. The men grab the cage from her trunk as the chicken squawks. I grab the food pail.

The children–who seem amused by all this–watch us. One girl simply says, “Oh, yeah. That’s Vera’s chicken.” We pass off the chicken to the office staff.

We all part ways. One friend walks on to keep pace with his step goal on his pedometer. We’re all off to work. The chicken, however, seems like a portent of strange and wonderful things to come.

We’re living a curious life out here in Centre county.

A life with chicken deliveries. Now, the day seems crazy and adventurous. I’m so glad I was asked to deliver the chicken.

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