Baby Ducks and Life

Recently my aunt emailed me asking for advice about hatching baby ducks. Each spring when I taught first grade we received baby duck eggs from the 4-H extension office in our area to hatch in the classroom. Sometimes they brought us chicken eggs and one memorable time quail eggs…but hatching eggs was a springtime ritual that I never grew tired of! It was a fresh and exciting experience year after year.

The first year however taught me a life lesson I will never forget. I have never been one to pour over directions…but I wanted to do this just right. The directions were vague…and I was anxious. We marked our eggs with an X on one side and an O on the other side and turned them faithfully. Now they have nice little incubators that do the turning for you…but not back then. The class and I played the roll of the diligent mother duck and turned the eggs daily to assure that the baby ducklings would mature with out deformations. This also meant transporting them home on weekends…with out breakage!

After patiently waiting and faithfully turning the big time arrived! The first thing that happens is you hear tiny tapping noises…and faint cheeping noises coming from the incubator. It sounds like tiny little hammers just tapping away. This is called pipping. They pip with their little egg tooth for a good 24 hours until finally they have chipped a small crack in the shell of the egg. After more pipping the tiny crack becomes a tiny hole. Then they rest. They are so exhausted from hammering the tiny hole they sleep for about another 24 hours to prepare for the next struggle…the struggle of their life.

Now…this is where I messed up. In reading the directions it said that the struggle to escape their shell would last about 30-45 minutes. So being anxious and excited once they had their little tiny hole created I began to watch the clock…not allowing the much needed rest time. The babies were in our bathroom at home when all this excitement took place…directions at school.

I was so worried…they were not moving…they were not pipping and why not? They were resting…I was pacing. My babies were in trouble I assumed. I needed to help them. SO…I began to pick tiny pieces of the shell from one of the eggs. Jim, my wiser and more patient half, suggested we just wait and leave the others alone. But…this one little egg seemed to need me. Every few minutes I would stop by and pick a little more shell…each time the little duck would wiggle a bit encouraging me. And…finally I had chipped enough of the shell away that the little duck easily rolled out of the shell…alive…but limp....still. Although alive he couldn’t raise his little head…and his little feet were no help to him. I was devastated.

We separated him from his buddies…and put a warm light over him…provided nourishment, prayers and encouragement. We named him Sunny…because he was yellow and he reminded me of a little student in my class that was so precious…but struggled.

After doing some research we learned that I had not allowed Sunny to rest and then through my good intentions I had deprived Sunny of the struggle that would provide him with the much needed strength to his neck muscles that he would develop to lift his head. Each time the little duckling pushed on his shell he was growing stronger. I removed the struggle and what hatched was a helpless and handicapped little fellow that depended on us!

What a life lesson! As a parent…don’t we do that? As a Christian don’t we experience that? As a teacher I see so many parents that don’t want their children to experience any struggles…and yet those struggles often provide them with the very tools they will need to face life. The parent sometimes becomes the very source of the handicap!

As a Christian…I dread those struggles in life. But I also look back and realize those are the times that my faith is stretched, my views altered…my love and need for God take a giant step. Through the struggle we become strong! This phenomenon happens over and over in nature…consider the struggle of the butterfly from the cocoon, the struggle of all mammals to labor only to experience the ultimate joy of giving birth to their offspring. We can never truly know the joy of good times…without the contrast of the hard or sad times. Certainly only after the struggle do we truly appreciate even the regular times...the "not much going on...Praise the Lord" times! We find joy in the simplicity of life. Only when we have been lost do we understand the joy of being found...and saved!

Well, we had a happy ending. Sunny survived in spite of us…but we had to watch him struggle! He finally was able to lift his head and pick up his little clumsy feet. He had a tougher time…he was more delayed that the other ducklings…but eventually he was fine. His struggle occurred outside the shell…but he had to experience it none the less. A year later while grading papers I heard a loud quacking in the hall. The student that had taken Sunny home to parent was walking into my room with a waist high, white, very proud duck close at his heels quacking loudly. It was Sunny! He had grown into a majestic creature. It was such a delight to watch that big white duck waddle back to his humble beginnings! It is a sight that warms my heart and makes me smile to this day.

SO…weak and struggling baby duckling, good intentions…to majestic duck, proud and independent…and a life lesson…it all just makes me want to quack!