Skip to main content

Elvis and The Lord's Supper

The “King” is dead.  

We got home from vacation to discover the disturbing news that Elvis, our rooster, was savagely taken by a coyote.  All that remained of him was a few drops of blood and a pile of his beautiful tail feathers.  We were all in denial.  We walked our property calling for him.  We tried luring him with food scraps.  We waited to see if he would make his way into the coop for the night.  He never did.  

That night, as we toasted to my husband’s 40th Birthday with sparkling cider, Thing 1 calls out, “And to Elvis, the bravest rooster alive...or dead. I guess, " and we had a moment of silence for the sacrifice he made for his hens. 

All of us knew what kind of rooster he was.  He was big and regal.  He had gorgeous, clean white feathers with a bit of silver around his neck and in his tail.  He reminded us of “The King of Rock' n Roll” in his famous white and silver jumpsuit, hence his name.  He was good with the ladies, too.  He was faithful at his job.  Twice, we saw him scare off a hawk that had swooped down to snatch one of the girls.  Another time, I heard him make a sound much like a growl and then saw every single lady disappear while Elvis strutted around flapping his wings and crowing as he kept his eye on the sky.  Not only was he good with the ladies, he also never attacked me or my boys, which is why our last rooster came to meet Jesus. 
Public Domain Rooster Image
We could all very easily picture what happened the day Elvis died.  All was quiet on our property, as our rambunctious boys were all gone.  The hens were scattered about the place doing their thing, scratching, taking a dust bath, sitting on eggs, happily being free-ranging hens.  Elvis was overseeing it all with a watchful eye. Maybe he had found a juicy fig that had fallen off the tree next to the forest line, and he called his ladies over to enjoy it.  
Then something moved in the trees, and Elvis snapped to attention.  His warning call rang out, and all the girls scattered as the lurking coyote made its move.  Elvis ran to meet it.  Wings spread wide, neck stretched out, spurs ready for attack.  
He managed to distract the coyote just long enough for the ladies to get to safety.  Then, in silent horror, they watched the chase that followed.  Elvis, a Coronation Sussex, was a very large and heavy bird weighing well over 15 pounds.  He lumbered when he ran without much agility.  The coyote was easily able to overtake him as if Elvis knew what his fate had always been. It dragged him deep into the trees, where, eventually, Elvis breathed his last breath.  

Poor Elvis, he was so brave.

The next day it just so happened that I wanted to talk to my boys about Communion.  Coming from a Quaker background, my boys’ experience of Communion was mostly special occasions.  Christmas and Easter were typically where we would break the bread, drink the wine, and read about the last supper and Christ’s call to “do this in remembrance of me”.  Truthfully, I always longed for a few more opportunities to physically share in Communion together as a body of Christ.  Not surprisingly, Communion in church every Sunday is a bit of an exciting anomaly for my boys, and although I think they know (save Thing 3) what it symbolizes, I felt like a recap was in order. 

We talked about what the “Lord’s Supper” was, how Christ asked his followers to break the bread and drink the wine to remember him and what he has done for us.  I asked the boys if they understood what it was Christ did.  
Thing 1 answered, “Well, mom, it’s kind of like what Elvis did for the ladies, he died so that they didn’t have to.”  
Then, Thing 2 piped in, “That makes me sad for Elvis.  I hope we never forget him-- I love Elvis.”  
Hmmm…I could not have said it better. Sometimes, as a parent, I talk too much.  This time, I decided to let the rooster, who was appropriately named after "The King,” teach my kids about “The One True King”.

“But Jesus called the children to him and said, ‘Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.  Truly I tell you, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.’”
~Luke 18:16-17

How have your kids surprised you with their insight and understanding?

Kristen

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Go. Heal Thyself, Girl!

Go.   Heal Thyself, Girl! A story of personal healing Ever since I gave birth to Thing 1 I’ve struggled with slouching.   I figured it was a combination of things;     engorged breasts, that would have won money in a wet t-shirt contest, muscle fatigue from holding a well fed baby, and stomach muscles that had been stretched beyond reason.   Two more babies and nine more years under my belt and I’m still struggling with slouching.   In fact it’s been getting worse.   For at least the last year and a half I’ve been consciously trying to fix the problem.   I check in with myself regularly throughout the day, “Am I slouching?   Yes!   Stop that!” I’ve been working on my core trying to bolster those muscles and give my shoulders a break.   All to no avail.   What is my problem?   I was a dancer for heaven sake.   Dancers don’t slouch!   They have lovely posture (and small breasts, I might a...

Book Review: Good Pictures, Bad Pictures

Good Pictures, Bad Pictures Porn-Proofing Today's Kids   Two years ago when my then six and nine year old boys were inadvertently exposed to pornography by a neighbor boy I dove into educating myself on this topic.   Despite my best efforts to protect them from this exact type of thing, I had failed.   My heart was broken, yet I was determined to do what I needed to in order to help them through this.   According to Internetsaftey101.com seven out of ten youth have accidentally come across pornography online and American children begin consuming hardcore pornography at an average age of 11.   On top of that four out of five 16 year olds view pornography on a regular basis.   Fight the New Drug claims they often get emails from six year olds sharing about their addictions to porn. These are frightening statistics.   Part of me wants to discount them as being overly aggressive for shock value, but then I realize even if these stats are cut...