The Day The Chickens Died

They were huddled in a corner awaiting their death.  It was strange and weird that they didn't want to escape.  Maybe they knew they were being sacrificed.  There was a level of excitement in the air for sure.  Joy was about to be served.   

I didn't know that we would have to chop their heads off, although there were some (Ahem...Andrea) that really enjoyed it.  We were told that chicken day was a big deal.  But I didn't know how big...until...I understood that we were  the ones doing the killing.

When I felt the warm, severed head move in my hand....I lost it.  

I wasn't brave any more.

We plucked, cleaned and gutted the chickens.  That's when I promptly left.  I am all about the clean up but gutting a chicken wasn't on my bucket list.

The children lined up to eat their treat.

This was no ordinary meal...this was like Christmas dinner to them.  Chicken is "white man's meat".  They never get that unless the "white man" brings it.  They don't let any parts go to waste either.

Even the heads and feet are cooked to make "Walky Talky" soup.










With 18 chickens, 263 kids were fed which breaks down to about .50 per child.  That's cheaper than McDonald's Dollar Menu.

Yes, the little girl fell asleep in Ronda's lap, completely at peace, with her hand still in the plate.  This meal filled.  This meal met them in their hunger.  It not only filled their stomachs with great satisfaction but it also filled their hearts.  We served them their necessary food, but God nourished with His love and hope.    


As we look to God for everything, we can believe and trust that He will give us exactly what we need.  If we seek Him for His best, then He will give His best...even if His plans involve a few chicken heads.