The Little Red Hen

“Who will help me plant these seeds of love?” said the little red hen.
“Not I!” said the lawyer, too busy and proud to look past the end of his nose.
“Not I!” said the baker, too busy making bread to see what was really valuable in life.
“Not I!” said the beggar, too ashamed of himself to even try.

“Who will help me dung and prune and water my seeds?” said the little red hen.
“Not I!” said the lawyer, too busy with a brief to get his hands dirty.
“Not I!” said the baker, too busy waiting for his bread to rise to do anything else.
“Not I!” said the beggar, too busy seeing his own pain that he could not serve.




“Who will help me harvest my love, now that it has grown? said the little red hen.
“Not I!” said the lawyer, too busy in court, basking in praise.
“Not I!” said the baker, too busy putting his bread in the oven, salivating at the thought of the tasty bread he was making.
“Not I!” said the beggar, too busy moping and feeling sorry for himself.



“Who will help me prepare my love for the feast?” said the little red hen.
“Not I!” said the lawyer, vacationing and basking in the fruits of his labors.
“Not I!” said the baker, taking his bread out of the oven, smelling the aroma of it.
“Not I!” said the beggar, too angry to do anything but complain.

“Who will come and partake of the feast I have prepared out of my love?” said the little red hen.
“I WILL!” said the lawyer, jumping hurdles to get there as fast as he can.
“I WILL!” said the baker, leaving his own bread behind in his eagerness to eat what others have prepared.
And the beggar was too full of hatred to even hear.

The little red hen is a story most often used to get children to be more helpful in doing chores and to show them how much work it takes to actually get something desirable. Too often we take things for granted, only wanting to arrive when the end result, the “good stuff” is on the table. Look at our society and look at how many people, male and female, married and non-married, have the attitude that if someone or something is less than perfect, throw it away because we can go find something better. I see all too often how if someone has certain flaws, “it's a show-stopper.” We forget that we are each a work in progress, a “diamond in the rough” who needs love, nurturing, encouragement and much forgiveness.

Each time I look in the mirror my reflection is there to look at. I do not see what I am most of the time, but the flaws which have been deemed as undesirable, and my heart interprets this to mean I am undesirable. With this throw away attitude, we deny the gospel and what it teaches. With our “okay you are perfect, now change” attitudes, we strangle and suffocate the very love we are hoping to grow. When we look at someone and forget to look underneath the surface, we are passing up the best part.

We went on a trip the other day as a family. We took a long drive. It was winding through the mountains and it was quite beautiful. When we arrived at our destination, my son looked at me shortly after and told me he finally understood that it was the journey that mattered and not the destination. You see, at the “top” it was busy, too many people and it was commercialized. We had just spent two hours in the car, stopping at the breathtaking views and pondered the majesty of Gods creation and ended up at the equivalent of a mall. It was more than a letdown. I felt violated. I could not get away fast enough. Then the beauty could come back into my life.


I think we all need to put more effort into our relationships and be more understanding of how painful life is for each of us. I know in my story it is the little red hen who is offering love and the men are denying it, but it could be as easily written from the other point of view. Often men offer their love and find it is scorned. Often men overlook flaws in a woman and it is seen as weakness when it is a strength; kindness is mocked and put down. As often as not, both men and women have to be something they would not naturally be. We judge each other ruthlessly. We are too hard on each other as a sex, and it goes both ways. We use hammers and pickaxes on each others hearts when pillows and soft gloves are what is necessary. The battle of the sexes was created by the devil and yet we are certain our anger and vehemently shouted abuses are justified. Yet, Christ paid for all those sins. It is just pride which keeps us from letting go and getting off our soap boxes and admitting we were wrong.

I do so now. I have hated men for most of my life. But I have been looking at things differently lately and I find they are now becoming sweet to me. So dear and precious that I am humbled when they are kind and helpful. I am grateful for all they do and put up with in this world and the labors they must perform. I am thankful I had such a loving father who raised me the best he knew how and I know if he had known the pain he caused me he would have wanted to die because he loved me too much to have done it on purpose. I forgive him and I forgive those who have hurt me in the past. I hope all those who have ever felt the lash of my tongue will be as generous and forgiving.

We all want to plant something beautiful and have it matter to someone. We all have tender spirits who feel every unkind thing done or said. Our spirits feel every sin we commit and every lie we tell takes us further from God. I often tell my kids that you will not surprise Heavenly Father with anything you say or do. First, He's probably heard it before, and second, He already knows. Put the sword down. Put the gauntlet down. Let the battle of the sexes end.