Winter

A few weeks ago I was at the centre. It had been almost a week since I had last been there, and in a weeks time winter had come. Being a ‘farmer’ now, winter holds a much different meaning that hit for the first time looking out over the field. The week before we had beautiful heads of lettuce coming up everywhere ready for sale and the bean leaves were still bright green.

So to my slight shock (I knew the frost was coming, just wasn’t ready for all its affects) most of the plants were burnt with frost or damaged by animals eating them. It wasn’t exactly depression, but the reality of seeing all this; the reality of accepting winter had struck.

I had hoped to sell a little more lettuce especially as our finances for the department were still struggling trying to provide for the chickens. Then I found out the students were preparing to kill and clean all of the chickens they had raised.

I know it is part of life, but I am used to killing a few at a time for people at the centre to eat. This in comparison seemed like slaughter. The intent was to stop paying for feed for old enough broilers and clean and prepare them while we had time. Then all the chickens were frozen and used to feed the students and staff for the rest of the training course.



In some ways it was full circle for the students that had raised the chickens and some took it as part of life. Akim was coming out of the chicken shed with two at a time to speed the process, and can kill one, while holding the other. I have been saying for a while if I am willing to eat meat I need to be willing to kill it, so in the emotional rush and knowing this was my last chance- I took the knife. Akim knows just the right angle to do it quickly- but I got mad as the knife was dull and was not going to torture one of the chickens as a learning tool. So I did it together with Akim to ensure it was quick.

I was glad the students were accepting of the process, but it was very hard for me to see our remaining chickens go in one afternoon. No more pecking at feet and flying where they shouldn’t. I had made very sure the student understood it was their responsibility to raise the broilers, which would make me think I would be another step removed. In fact I think it was harder to watch over the students and the chickens.

And so in the midst of all of this, the ducks and village chickens were out looking for what fresh greens were out they could still eat. If I haven’t mentioned, I enjoy the ducks immensely. They are just very funny.

One of the big ducks was giving one of the village chickens a hard time and then I noticed she had three chicks with her. My heart skipped a beat. The chickens we raise for meat or eggs don’t get to grow up with their mother- but here as winter was setting in was a little family with three three-day-old chicks. I waved for my friends to come see, not wanting to disturb the young family with the little black and gray chicks. And as I followed them at a distance they headed for the garden.



The garden still had sunflower in bloom and the late afternoon sun was hitting the petals. So in a setting of the last sunflowers at Espoir, I watched the chicks and their protective mother. (I worry about them being so young in the winter, but it is not up to me to protect them, it is their mother’s job and I must stand back and accept nature.) And it was beautiful and I knew I couldn’t curse the winter for my own unprepardiness. The winter has to come each year.




And as I write a few weeks late the last of the students are packing up to leave after graduation and it adds to the winter. But they are going to spread what they learned to their own communities. It has to be winter here so they can spread what they know for spring in their communities.

It’s a winter like none I have ever had before, and it is painful- but it holds a beauty of its own.

Thoughtfully,
Hannah