Yesterday, our breakfast hatched.

Yesterday, our breakfast hatched. Literally.

One of the eggs we were supposed to have for breakfast for the next few days hatched. And no, it's not like it wasn't touched or anything already. I mean, how would you bring an egg from its nest to the egg rack without touching it and shaking it up, right? (I read somewhere that eggs have to be left alone if you want them turned into fully fledged chicks)

But there it was, a fledgling of a chick poking its way out of the shell, hanging on for dear life. No, I didn't see it with my own eyes. My sisters did, and now I am beginning to regret that I didn't spare a minute of my oh-so-precious time to witness this miracle.

We were all upstairs, doing our thing, and my mom kept whining about this loud chirping sound she had been hearing for ten minutes or so. She thought that one of our chicks (my dad raises native chickens) had somehow stolen into our house. And like the good, nice daughters that we were, we told her that it was impossible.

And then Bency (sister next to me) finally took it upon her to find the source of the chirping sound that even I had begun to find irritating and disturbing. And then there she saw it -- a chick beating its beak and tiny little feathery wings against the shell, which was in the egg rack, which was placed on top of our refrigerator. (Shame I didn't get a picture of it.)

And now for the moral of this anecdote (which I just really feel this anecdote should contain): if that doesn't display hope, resistance and resilience, I don't know what does. Really, that egg was destined for the frying pan and my stomach for the next day. And then it goes defying death and the odds. How amazing is that? I mean, seriously?! (We've long concluded that the heat from the refrigerator top was what incubated the egg.)

Admittedly, I didn't initially react that way. My first thought when I found that out yesterday was -- "That is plain creepy. Imagine your breakfast suddenly coming alive?"

In retrospect, though, I've come to think of it as cute, amazing, and even containing a bit of majesty and mystery. Really amazing.

Now, if the meat destined to be my lunch moves in the freezer, I would really be creeped out.