A time to be born, and a time to die;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh;
A time to mourn, and a time to dance.
A select congregation attended the burial of Bella, the chicken. Bella had laid every day for nine months of the year, almost all her life. Tired out, she died two weeks after laying her last egg.
What had happened and what we were going to do was carefully explained to the children. They were asked if they wanted to participate.
The perfect white-feathered hen was placed in a cardboard coffin, a grave was dug, and then Bella was gently buried.