That’s Nugget. She’s not just a chicken; she’s my son’s lifeblood and a quiet guardian. He goes out the door every morning, no matter how cold or early it is, and screams her name like it’s the most important thing in the world. He tells her about the little things he learns, like the hues of the skies, the hard words from his spelling test, and the stories that kids can only tell. Nugget doesn’t simply follow him; she sits on the porch with him, always in the shade of his body. At first, we thought it was cute how innocent it was, like how a child loves a pet. But it was a lot more than that. Nugget was helping him in ways that no one else could.
My son’s life fell apart when his mother left last year. His eyes lost their sparkle overnight. He stopped smiling, stopped asking for pancakes every morning, and went quiet. There was nothing we could do to get him back. It seemed like he was losing pieces of himself. Then Nugget came. He was a small, yellow fluff ball who arrived into our yard and didn’t know what to do. Being there made his heart feel better. He and Nugget had a new reason to chuckle. To eat. He was excited to go to sleep. He wanted to go back to being a kid.
That weak world shook yesterday. Nugget was no longer there. We searched high and low and yelled her name till we couldn’t anymore. He cried himself to sleep while holding an old picture of her. He thought it was the only thing that saved him from losing hope.
But she came back this morning. She was a little dusty and had a scratch on her beak, but she was well. When he saw her, his face lit up like the sun. He took her up and held her so tightly that I was scared he would never let her go.
That’s when I noticed the bright red ribbon around her leg and the tag that hung from it and danced in the wind. “Thanks for taking care of her.” In beautiful handwriting, it said, “She saved me too.” It added in light pencil below it, “Her name used to be Lucy.”
Someone else needed Nugget before we did. Someone else got better just by being around her since she was peaceful and lovely. And then they let her go, trusting and loving her. They might have realized she could do better. They might have thought that she would find someone else who needed help.
Nugget snuggled up at my son’s feet and breathed quietly as he went asleep that night. He was always there, even when it was dark. He asked, “Do you think she missed me?” with a hopeful and curious tone. I smiled and said, “I think she came back because she missed you more.” I felt a warmth that I hadn’t felt in a long time.
I was very thankful at that peaceful period. We are grateful to whoever sent Nugget back to us for the healing she gave us and for the simple, beautiful lesson that love can come from the most unexpected places. I told my kid and myself that we would never let her leave again, no matter what. They didn’t simply see Nugget as a chicken; she was family, a sign of hope, and proof that love can heal even the worst wounds.