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with Kathleen Gibson June 4, 2008 Are you bigger than a chicken? Speaking at a ladies night, our daughter Amanda tossed a question at the women gathered around the round tables. A gardening question, sort of. The entire evening had a gardening theme: a packet of seeds for each lady, centerpieces of bedding plants, and a demonstration from an expert gardener on how to plant a pot-full of blooming beauty for our patios. He�d stuffed into his eighteen-inch pot at least fourteen plants, answering about twenty questions as he did so��Yes, I spray,� he�d told one lady. �Those bugs have no business eating my plants.� Then it was Amanda�s turn. She spoke about growing things of a different kind, of the importance of planting seeds of truth. Seeds that grow good, strong, godly lives. And that was when she popped the question. �Who has planted seeds in your life?� I think long about such weighty questions, but a woman named Brenda answered immediately. �Aunt Ruby,� she stated emphatically. �She taught me that I�m bigger and smarter than a chicken.� Laughter greeted her abrupt response. When it died, she continued: When she was a child, her Aunt Ruby had raised chickens. One day she asked Brenda to go to the hen-house and collect the eggs. She�d done so, and collected most of them. But one ornery hen, still roosting, had a different idea. She�d returned to Aunt Ruby with all the usual eggs, minus one. �Aunt Ruby,� she said, �that old hen wouldn�t let me near her.� Ruby had looked at her and said, �Are you bigger than that chicken?� �Yes,� she�d said. �And are you smarter than that chicken?� �Yes,� she�d said again. �Well, then. You just march right back there and get that egg.� When Aunt Ruby gave an order, apparently people listened. Her niece walked back to the hen-house, through the door and straight up to that roosting hen. She�d looked it dead in the eye, and said, �I�m bigger than you. I�m smarter than you. And I�m going to take your egg.� The chicken had pecked her, but she�d collected the egg. �I�ve remembered that all my life,� Brenda told us that evening. Whenever I feel intimidated, I hear Aunt Ruby�s voice. �Are you bigger than that chicken? Are you smarter than that chicken?� Aunt Ruby�s seeds produced a harvest. And like all good seeds, they�re still multiplying: My tiny granddaughter had taken off her shoes, but refused to walk on the grass. It tickled. She stood at the edge of our sidewalk, curling her toes, whimpering. My arms were too full to carry her. �Tabatha, honey,� I said, remembering Ruby. �You just tell those feet, �Feet, I�m bigger than you, I�m smarter than you, so get walking!�� Shocked, the tot stared at me a moment, then placed one tentative foot on the grass. Then another. And kept walking. Ruby�s good seed had grown a grand-plant in my grandbean. Do you have good seeds? Sow them. God will see they grow. He�ll even spray the bugs. �2008, Kathleen Gibson Respond Home |
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