Sometimes when I’m thinking how wise I’ve gotten in my old age, I realize that I’m not very wise but I was just incredibly unwise in my younger years.
Yesterday when I went to get the eggs, I noticed right off that one of the eggs in the egg box was kinda weird. There were five eggs in there — four looked normal and one looked weird. Every now and then when a chicken is needing a bit of extra calcium, we’ll get something called a “rubber egg” and it feels like a balloon .. just an egg without a hard shell. I’ve only gotten a couple of them but I hate it when I reach in there to get eggs and get a surprise. They also have terrible bathroom manners so I often get other kinds of surprises too! I’ve learned to look in the egg boxes before sticking my hand in there.
So, I grabbed the four normal eggs and put them in my basket, then went back to carefully pick up the weird egg. It was hard just like the other eggs . . nothing was mushy. There were some guys out working in the back and I showed it to them. A couple of them have chickens and they thought it was weird too. In fact, when Vince got home from work, they even told him about the weird egg I had gotten so I guess it made an impression on them too.
Then I figured since Speck had been feeling bad, I’d give him an extra egg. Truth is . . I didn’t really want to eat it myself.
When I cracked it to cook it, inside it was just like every other egg I get. Nice, thick yolk . . clear white . . perfect!
And, I thought . . how many times have we walked into a room and saw 5 or 6 or more (or less) people sitting there. One may have looked weird and we kinda shunned that person and paid more attention to the normal looking folks. What’s really “weird” though? Overweight, terribly underweight, dressed funny, weird hair color? But “inside”, the weird looking folks might be the most normal of the whole group.
It just kinda hit home with me because in my younger years, I paid so much attention to the “outside”. How I dressed, what I drove, makeup, house . . and none of that really matters. It’s what’s on the inside of all of us that counts. I’ve judged people by their “outside” and I’ve thought that making sure what others saw in me was perfect, then I would be judged as a good person . . when really, the outside doesn’t make a whole lot of difference! Through the years, I fear I’ve been so incredibly rude to people.
I thought it was funny that I learned a very good lesson from my chickens! Who would have thought?