Misplaced Motherhood

As a young girl, my only ambition was to be a good wife and mother. Neither blessing has befallen me, though I have cared for many families by showing value for their marriage and loving their children.

Over the past few very busy years, I have added elements of farming to my life: gardens, rabbits, quail, chickens, turkeys, pheasants, and of course Claire as her role of guardian/nanny. Even Lucia, the ever so darling cat is part of the farm life in her dainty way.

Motherhood is likely to elude me (for starters I am missing all the precursors such as meeting the gentleman whose heart and soul captures yours) but I felt a different fulfillment this evening as I watched various critters or critter and exchanges.

-one of my Salmon Faverolles had collected all the ladies eggs, for the third day in a row, and was sitting hunkered down like a fluffy Abrams tank, ready to do battle against any intruders. She made her strike when I started to remove the eggs from underneath her. She was so astonished that she dug around in the shavings while remaining hunkered and defensive. I seized the opportunity to run inside and grab the turkey eggs I have been collecting for just such a broody mama. When placed in front of her, she stared without moving, then quickly and in one motion walked up over them and scooped them back into her divot. Motherhood.
-While feeding the different enclosures a bedtime snack to get them through the bitter cold night, I observed my Black Spanish tom and dominant rooster Magnum Opus standing side by side in all their splendor and pomp, yet not an inkling of rivalry. They had enough respect for the each other's role within their shared space of Black Spanish turkeys and Magnum Opus' premier laying flock. It was a teary moment to realize that they have never had to fight or engage in a power struggle, and as such, their ladies were well taken care of. Me, while mothering the fine fellows, allowed them confidence to be securely at their best. Motherhood.
-my blind and very old rabbit, Poppy, has been the mainstay in my flocks for years. Every season he is right in the middle of the babies. They look up to him, adore him, are calmed by his stable presence. They sleep beside him, pick food bits from his fur, and are curious about his eating habits. This is Poppy's second batch of chicks this year. Fifty little meaties milling about. This is the first time they have tucked underneath like they would tuck under a hen. Looking for Motherhood.
-Claire dotes and nuzzles on the critters, sniffs out anyone that might be a little hunkered and cold. The turkey poults especially are enamoured with her and run after her, always needing to be near her. If she lays down, they follow. If she sniffs the ground, they come running to check what she found. Motherhood.

Although I don't have my own children and although my hands are now busied with raising food for myself and others, I see glimpses of motherhood being fulfilled around me every day, and I am delighted!

True Motherhood is a beautiful thing!