Chapter 2. - The Eagle Story

It was a dark and stormy night. (I know.) High atop a cliff was an eagle’s nest. In the nest was one single egg. The storm raged and had already ravaged the nest. The egg slipped from the nest and rolled down the side of the mountain and plopped into the creek below. Caught in the current, the egg was washed far down and away from its nest. The stormed wore on into the night.

The next morning, the sun was shining and warming the banks where waters had receded as if nothing had occurred the night before. Three children came out to play and fish and see what treasures had washed ashore.

“What’s this?” said the first boy as he ran his hand over the smooth thing. It seemed to be stuck in the mud.

“Dunno,” said his brother. “Let’s see.” He began to dig around it and promptly announced, “It’s an egg!”

“Throw it!” said the first boy as he ran out to catch a pass.

“No!” said the little sister. “You might break it open.”

“Awww, it’s no good anyway. Nothing will hatch from it.”

The little girl ran up and took it from her brother and wrapped it in her skirt.

“Let her have it,” said her brother. “Who wants a stinky, ol’ rotten egg anyhow?”

The little girl ran straight to the chicken coop and once inside made a quick survey of who was sitting on eggs and who was not. In the entire coop she only saw Mrs. Hen sitting atop a few eggs. “That’s where I’ll put it.” The hen made a little “squawk!” when the little girl slid the large egg under her, but she stuck her head in the air and sat on it.

Everyday, the little girl checked on her egg. She just knew it was going to hatch. And one day, it did. Out of the egg came the awkward, oversized bird. “Hmm, said the little girl, I wonder what kind of bird is that?”

And while the little girl may have wondered, Mrs. Hen, did not care. She could be seen walking through the barnyard with her strange looking brood. Five yellow chicks and one big awkward-looking, black bird. The little girl called him Blacky. The farmer and his wife just chuckled and shook their heads.

One day, as Mrs. Hen was walking with her babies through the yard, an eagle flew over. Blacky was in awe! He gasped, “Mother, what is that beautiful, majestic bird?”

His mother lifted her head up and watched the bird fly over and by. “That, my son,” she said, “is an eagle. But you are not to worry your head about that. You’ll never be one of those.”

Question: Is an eagle raised by a chicken a chicken or an eagle?