LOST IDENTITY
Once upon a time a powerful storm uprooted a tree that had the nest of an eagle in its branches. As the wind subsided the tree was leaning heavily to one side and slowly pulled itself out of the ground, until finally it came to rest against the trunk of another tree. The nest of the eagle, by now laying on the ground, had a single egg in it that fell out a soon as the tree tilted and, cushioned by the foliage and grass, began rolling down a gentle slope towards a farmhouse at the foot of the hill. Quite miraculously the egg zig-zagged between the rocks and, picking up speed, rolled straight through the farmyard, past the gate of the chicken coop, up an old plank, straight into the hen-house and finally onto one of the nests amongst another five chicken eggs.
Nobody had noticed what had happened and nobody took any notice of that oversized egg, not even mother hen, who sat on it quite unhurriedly wondering why in the world she was so uncomfortable. At the set time the chicken eggs hatched - as did the eagle egg - delivering an excited company of five light yellow rather small, peep-peeping chicks and one white and black oversized, screeching eaglet. Of course, mother hen didn't think there was anything wrong with him nor did his brothers and sisters nor did junior eagle either who was appropriately named, "Blackie".
And so began a very peculiar experience for this strange bird that had been born, by a flick of destiny, into such a foreign family.
Blackie would go out with all the others and begin to scratch in the dirt like the rest of the chicks for grains and seeds to eat. He learnt how to walk like a chicken, think like a chicken and even cackle like a chicken, but one thing he could not learn to do: look down. Blackie would lift his head, tilt it sideways and stare up into the sky. That immense, light blue stretch of air held him captive with an almost uncanny fascination. There was just something up there that attracted him like a magnet would a piece of metal.
The days went by and weeks and months and yet nobody took any notice of this strange bird, three, four times the size of any chicken, with powerful talons and a rapacious beak that could have torn apart the proudest cock in the coop and yet behaved like a subdued, disillusioned, almost dispirited chicken.
One day, however, high in the sky was heard the piercing scream of the black eagle, who was circling menacingly over the farm, looking for lunch.
Every single chicken in the yard heard the powerful cry and scattered in a thousand, confused directions. Every one but Blackie.
Because Blackie was not a chicken.
Suddenly the majestic eagle spotted the lone bird on the ground and, closing its wings to its sides in a deadly, heart-shaped blur of fury, zeroed in for the kill. The entire chicken population held its breath as, under the protection of their coop, they watched the drama unfolding. Why wasn't their brother moving? Didn't he feel death approaching at vertiginous speed? What was the matter with the stupid bird? Didn't the silly animal hear the murderous screech of the diving assassin? Run Blackie, run!
Blackie had heard all right. But instead of that sound producing fear in him, it had, oh so excited him! One more time Blackie tilted his head to the sky and watched the majestic bird now only a few dozen metres away, descend on him with frightening speed.
Suddenly, as abruptly as the dive had begun, it ended. The big eagle swooped just a hair-breath over Blackie's head and having circled back and up again, it hovered a few metres above the ground. Wings open, the great bird's piercing eye fixed on Blackie and, if it was at all possible, smiled. Yes, this was his long-lost son, there was no doubt. Father eagle would have recognized him anywhere!
The next few minutes were so intense that they would be remembered for many, many chicken generations to come. Father eagle softly landed next to Blackie and gently nudged him. And in a split second Blackie knew! He was not a chicken destined to scratch around in the dust of life, he was an eagle, meant to soar the heights beyond the skies, designed to ride the winds above the peaks, ordained to roam the heavens - further than sight!
And so Blackie opened his wings, flapped a couple of times, caught an updraft and, after an almost affectionate, last look toward the animals in the farmyard, left the chicken world forever side by side with his father.
Nobody had noticed what had happened and nobody took any notice of that oversized egg, not even mother hen, who sat on it quite unhurriedly wondering why in the world she was so uncomfortable. At the set time the chicken eggs hatched - as did the eagle egg - delivering an excited company of five light yellow rather small, peep-peeping chicks and one white and black oversized, screeching eaglet. Of course, mother hen didn't think there was anything wrong with him nor did his brothers and sisters nor did junior eagle either who was appropriately named, "Blackie".
And so began a very peculiar experience for this strange bird that had been born, by a flick of destiny, into such a foreign family.
Blackie would go out with all the others and begin to scratch in the dirt like the rest of the chicks for grains and seeds to eat. He learnt how to walk like a chicken, think like a chicken and even cackle like a chicken, but one thing he could not learn to do: look down. Blackie would lift his head, tilt it sideways and stare up into the sky. That immense, light blue stretch of air held him captive with an almost uncanny fascination. There was just something up there that attracted him like a magnet would a piece of metal.
The days went by and weeks and months and yet nobody took any notice of this strange bird, three, four times the size of any chicken, with powerful talons and a rapacious beak that could have torn apart the proudest cock in the coop and yet behaved like a subdued, disillusioned, almost dispirited chicken.
One day, however, high in the sky was heard the piercing scream of the black eagle, who was circling menacingly over the farm, looking for lunch.
Every single chicken in the yard heard the powerful cry and scattered in a thousand, confused directions. Every one but Blackie.
Because Blackie was not a chicken.
Suddenly the majestic eagle spotted the lone bird on the ground and, closing its wings to its sides in a deadly, heart-shaped blur of fury, zeroed in for the kill. The entire chicken population held its breath as, under the protection of their coop, they watched the drama unfolding. Why wasn't their brother moving? Didn't he feel death approaching at vertiginous speed? What was the matter with the stupid bird? Didn't the silly animal hear the murderous screech of the diving assassin? Run Blackie, run!
Blackie had heard all right. But instead of that sound producing fear in him, it had, oh so excited him! One more time Blackie tilted his head to the sky and watched the majestic bird now only a few dozen metres away, descend on him with frightening speed.
Suddenly, as abruptly as the dive had begun, it ended. The big eagle swooped just a hair-breath over Blackie's head and having circled back and up again, it hovered a few metres above the ground. Wings open, the great bird's piercing eye fixed on Blackie and, if it was at all possible, smiled. Yes, this was his long-lost son, there was no doubt. Father eagle would have recognized him anywhere!
The next few minutes were so intense that they would be remembered for many, many chicken generations to come. Father eagle softly landed next to Blackie and gently nudged him. And in a split second Blackie knew! He was not a chicken destined to scratch around in the dust of life, he was an eagle, meant to soar the heights beyond the skies, designed to ride the winds above the peaks, ordained to roam the heavens - further than sight!
And so Blackie opened his wings, flapped a couple of times, caught an updraft and, after an almost affectionate, last look toward the animals in the farmyard, left the chicken world forever side by side with his father.
You have just been nudged!
TRANSFORMATION!
B.C. 1982 - a few weeks before conversion
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A.D. 2017 - over thirty five years after conversion
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