PAIN AND REGRET

The snake bit the chicken.

The poison spread through her body, and she ran to the chicken coop for safety.

But the other hens were afraid.

They thought the poison might harm them too.

So they pushed her away.

The chicken walked off slowly, crying.

Not because of the pain,

but because her own family had rejected her

when she needed them most.

She walked alone,

with fever in her body,

dragging one leg,

cold during the nights.

With every step, tears fell.

The hens watched her until she disappeared far away.

Some said,

“Let her go. She will die somewhere else.”

They were sure she was dead.

Some even looked at the sky, waiting to see vultures.

Time passed.

One day, a hummingbird came to the coop and said,

“Your sister is alive.

She lives in a cave nearby.

She survived, but she lost one leg because of the snake bite.

She is weak and cannot find food.

She needs your help.”

No one spoke.

Then excuses began:

“I can’t go, I’m laying eggs.”

“I can’t go, I’m looking for food.”

“I can’t go, I’m caring for my chicks.”

One by one, everyone refused.

The hummingbird went back alone.

Time passed again.

Later, the hummingbird returned with sad news:

“Your sister is dead.

She died alone in the cave.

No one was there for her.”

Silence filled the chicken coop.

Those laying eggs stopped.

Those searching for food dropped the seeds.

Those caring for chicks paused.

Regret hurt more than poison.

“Why didn’t we help her earlier?” they cried.

They all rushed to the cave, crying and blaming themselves.

But when they arrived, the chicken was gone.

Only a letter was there. It said:

“Many times in life, people don’t help you when you are alive,

but they travel far to cry when you are dead.

Most tears at funerals are not from pain,

but from regret.”