Rich Means Chickens in the Hen House

Rich Means Chickens in the Henhouse



Breakfast for me often means a piece of dry toast on the run, but yesterday I actually sat down to enjoy two eggs over easy, and a nice thick slice of ham. It reminded me of my days on the farm when eggs and ham were daily fare. We were rich in those days because we had chickens in the hen house. This meant that not only did we have eggs for breakfast, eggs for cooking, eggs to sell or to share, but we had chickens to produce more eggs. In the spring we’d let some of the hens hatch baby chicks which would either increase the flock or provide fried chicken for the table.



For those of us who left the farm, or those who never lived on one to start with, the principal is the same. Rich means having abundance as well as having resources. In other words it not only means having enough eggs to sell but a continued increase of chickens and eggs. If we were talking about money it would be a healthy savings account plus enough to invest.



Of course we could also consider ourselves rich with music, art, friends, family, religion, nature, or any one of an unlimited number of experiences. How much music does one need to be rich in this manner? That depends because rich also means valuable. If one friend or piece of art changed your life – caused you to find something inside of yourself waiting to be developed – that one experience would be enough to make you rich.



When I lived on the farm, I was rich in many ways. I had a lot of time to think and create while on my way to fetch the cows for milking, or walking three or four miles to the next door neighbor’s house with a message. Later, after chores were finished for the day I had time to put the thoughts or images of the day on paper. A neighbor might come by with his violin, one of my aunts would play the piano, Dad picked his guitar and the rest of us sang. It was a simple but fulfilling life.



Today I live on a busy street, carry a cell phone with me at all times, spend hours on the computer, drive mile but start my day with exercise because I don’t need to fetch the cows any more. Am I poor? No. I don’t think so. I have solitude. I can meditate or write. Family and friends surround me as they did before. I know most of my neighbors. My easel holds my latest painting and I sing with a group.



I don’t work a nine to five anymore. My time is my own to spend as I choose and with whom I choose. I go where I want and pretty much I do what I want, when and how I want within the limits of society. Oh, there are things I’d like to change but the principle is the same. I am rich in the things that are of value to me. I have built depth in my life with those things. Still there are mountains to climb and to paint; stories to write and people to meet.



If you would likewise be rich then find what is important to you and do those things.
Ceil DeYoung