Please.

21 days ago, I was a little wary to take on the role as Kindergarten Teacher Chick Hatcher.

I knew it was the staple unit for our grade level... but I'm not naive to the truth that I lack skills in the area of Things That Take Daily Maintenance. Oh how much I have learned since the days of the over-achiever teacher (Sept & Oct) when I stocked my classroom full of live plants and tadpoles. In November, when I was left with empty pots and flushed tadpoles, I decided it was time to give up dreams of being the teacher I really hoped I could be.

24 eggs, an incubator, a thermometer... what could go wrong?

So naturally, I downplayed the excitement of the 24 eggs entering our classroom, knowing the likelihood of hatching was slim to none.

As in most cases in Kindergarten, their 5 year-old minds never take on the fears that so often run through mine: A) I am a first-year teacher in Kinder and most of the time I sing and dance my way through learning, and B) I have never hatched chicks, despite a 5-hour Embryology training program that should have prepared me.

Of course, I readily assume the role they've deemed me as Chick Expert.

Given the two obvious reasons why these chicks have no chance at hatching, I'm not completely in shock that day 21 comes and goes without a single peep. In fact, I already mentally resorted to Plan B and rearranged my schedule to swipe some chicks from Kindergarten at our Northfield campus and forget all about our "bad eggs."

thwarting off the enemies...
an initial attempt to disguise my technique and increase my chances.

As Day 21 progressed, the influx of emails and photos of cute fuzzy friends at the NF location started to up the motivation with having something to show for myself in Chicago. Okay, so I don't place in the ranks of 30 years of experience or live/eat/breathe teaching day-in day-out; I don't take curriculum or grading or craft-making home with me, and I didn't come to school at 4am to roast the turkey for the Thanksgiving Feast. Obviously the odds are against me here, but really - technically speaking, what did I do wrong?

They say that in desperate times you are drawn to God.
This was quite clearly one of those moments.

just one? please?

So with one final ditch effort, I sat by that incubator last night and prayed. I prayed that God would give me just one little chick. We're not dreaming too big over here - not an entire brooder box full, or for the specific egg we had been measuring... in fact, if he's deformed or crippled, I'll take it. Just one... please?

Today was Day 22. I trudged to the incubator in prep for the inevitable disappointment.

But it seemed that somehow, somewhere, the God of the Universe heard a little teacher cry. And not only was a chick peeping in its egg, it was hatching out of his shell in that very instance. All at once, I felt the silent mark of approval; feeling In with the crowd of teachers who have gone before me in this feat, entering the bracket of those with hidden secrets to hatching. In my whole year of teaching, I knew in this moment I had arrived.

the fighter. he made it.

And by the end of Day 22, we cling tight to our one little survivor chick, named Peeper by the show of hands. He is so much more than he will ever know... a miracle chick & the one that made me into the Kindergarten Hero... and a glimpse at trust and what it feels like to know it's worth it. A boost of confidence at the end of the year, right when you start to doubt they've learned anything valuable for the next grade.... a jumpstart into May - the last month of teaching... and a silent pat on the back for a job well done.

i think i'll keep him.

Thank you Peeper... and how do you feel about being a house pet?