By: Samuel Lin

White, wispy, and fluffy clouds floated lazily overhead. A warm, red, orange, and yellow glow spread across the skyline, covering the sky, with a small yellow disk peeking above the horizon. Pure white rays of the sun illuminated the cold chilly morning.

“Hello, Joe, how’s it going?” Bob asked. Joe, a pure red chicken, was sitting on the porch of his chicken coop, rocking slowly in his chair, gazing out in the distance.

Joe got up and strolled nonchalantly toward him, getting right up into Bob’s face, so that their beaks were touched. Joe grunted, “Why did you have to disturb my peace?”

Bob took a step back in surprise. “Oh…I’m sorry,” said Bob, and he was about to continue on his morning stroll around the neighborhood.

“Oof”, Bob groaned, stumbled, and fell to the ground. The sky and the trees were swirling around him.

“Oh! I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to trip you,” Joe said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Bob, though hurt on the inside, was determined not only to help Joe but to love his enemy. Bob’s mind drifted back to the time when he was young, how he was just as snarky and mean as Joe. Bob remembered how another chicken transformed him from a mean youngster to a kind chicken, and he was determined to do the same.

“It’s okay, Joe. By the way, would you like to come to my chicken coop? I can cook us breakfast today.” Bob said as he got up.

Joe grunted again and said, “Fine, I’ll eat it as long as it tastes good.”

Bob grimace at the insult and led Joe back to the chicken coop. On the way back, Joe furtively pushed Bob behind the back, attempting to trip Bob again.

“This food tastes like sandpaper! I could cook a breakfast better than you, even blindfolded and with my hands tied behind my back,” Joe said as he threw the plate on the floor. The ceramic plate hit the ground with a large BANG, broken asunder. The eggs and potatoes were scattered across the floor.

Bob stood motionless, mouth agape. His hopeful heart plummeted, his soul broken: he had poured his whole heart and soul into his signature eggs and potatoes dish. Bob was really hoping that his eggs and potatoes could cheer Joe up. Yet, Joe had insulted him and his food, purposely left muddy footprints all over his house, and knocked over Bob’s stack of worms. After taking a deep breath, Bob said, “I’m sorry you didn’t like the dish. Should I make something else for you?”

After a long pause, Joe said, “Why are you being so kind to me? Every chicken on the whole entire planet has never even cared about me. No one had ever held the door open for me. no one has ever said ‘Happy Birthday’ to me. Then why are you cooking me breakfast?”

“I’m helping you, Joe, to help myself,” Bob said.

Joe furrowed his brow in confusion.

Bob continued, “Once when I was very young, I hurt another chicken with my words and actions. Later, when I went to bed that night, I realized that what I did was wrong. I never got a chance to apologize to him. This has gnawed at my soul ever since, but I realized that the only way to heal my soul is to help others.”

Then Joe looked down at his shoes in shame. Joe thought of the countless times when he had taunted, harassed, and bullied other chickens. He hurt he had inflicted upon others had backfired and stung himself, and the regret eventually grew into an unbearable burden.

From this moment on, Joe resolved to change. “I’m sorry for what I’ve done,” Joe whispered. “I’ll never do this again.”