Henny Penny of LaQuinta
But godliness with
contentment is great gain.
— 1 Timothy 6:6
LaQuinta, Calif., is a beautiful place with all the trappings
of the lifestyles of the rich and famous. Near Palm Springs, it has palm trees
and desert mountains, streets named after movie stars, haute-couture shopping, gorgeous
retirement homes, and lots and lots of really great golf courses.
The one thing you don't associate with that kind of an
environment is a chicken. But maybe you shouldn't . . . BALK . . . at that.
Because a chicken which took up residence at a gorgeous retirement home on a
really great golf course in LaQuinta this past winter symbolizes what I see as
the whole point of the Christian life:
Contentment. Plain and simple, sometimes silly, low-cost,
highly-prized contentment.
Meet Henny Penny, the unexpected but much-admired houseguest
of our family friends Lou and Barbara:
Oh, sure, other retirees they hang out with have stuff worth
a lot more money than a humble laying hen - luxury cars and fancy golf
equipment, computer gear and the latest in mobile communications.
But what did everybody talk about, all winter? What gave them
all the most joy and fun? Henny Penny! She was the sensation of The Desert.
Lou speculates that she was hatched in a rural chicken yard owned
by the gardening contractor some 30 miles away. She must've hitchhiked into the
golf course community on a pickup truck one day. Not on purpose, of course:
just one of those wild and crazy adventures that risk-taking adolescent poultry
are wont to do.
Lou had heard rumors of a wild chicken running through the
neighborhood. But he figured the people were tippling the cooking sherry or
whatever . . . until the day that he, too, saw the hen, cackling around their very
own yard.
Barbara, a tender-hearted soul, threw out some breadcrumbs. The
chicken soon was roosting in their lemon tree. Neighbors speculated that their
yard's lush vegetation provided ample cover from area hawks and coyotes, so she
was happy there.
Now, many of these swank homes feature expensive patio
furniture, statuary, and top-of-the-line gas grills on the backyards along the golf
course. So a makeshift chicken coop kind of stood out. But thinking she might
be cold up in the tree, Lou fixed up a humble wine crate for Henny Penny's
roost. He made it cozy with bubble paper, and lined it with free straw he
coaxed out of a feed store employee, who got a kick out of the juxtaposition of
a lowly chicken living amid the silk-stocking set.
The minute anybody would see Lou, wherever he went, they
would ask, "How's the chicken?" It was literally the talk of the town. He never
did find out exactly what breed she is, even on www.mypetchicken.com (proving that
there really is a website nowadays for EVERYTHING).
After a while, Lou was concerned that Henny Penny wasn't
laying. So after consultation with various chicken experts, he began purchasing
gourmet, high-protein feed for her, and got her to eat out of his hand.
One day, he heard a racket:
BAWWWK! BAWWWK! BUCK, BUCK, BUCK, BA-KAWWWWW!!!!!
He ran outside to see the hen strutting around . . . and
there on the ground was a beautiful, tan egg.
That got Lou a-struttin' and a-bawkin' to his golf buddies,
who were amazed. And all winter, he and his wife and their friends enjoyed fresh
eggs, fabulous Eggs Benedict and other treats. Lou and the Mrs. bragged a lot
about the chicken to their three adult children, who live in Pennsylvania and
Ohio. They mostly think their parents are crazy, but they were happy if their
parents were happy.
Of course Lou and Barbara loved having a hen. What did you
expect . . . from a couple of empty-nesters?!?
A few weeks ago, though, wiping a tear, Lou returned Henny
Penny to the gardener. But he figured she'd be happier in the company of other
chickens, since The Desert gets . . . well . . . deserted in the summertime,
and he and Barbara were leaving, too.
But any day now, they expect to get a postcard . . . and you
know eggs-actly who from. †
