I had dreamed of having a dog or a cat since I was small enough to fit under the kitchen table. I told my parents every year before my birthday. “I’ll take perfect care of it.” They always smiled and said, “you know your father is allergic to dogs and cats” so it’s was of the question.
Just before my 12th birthday I had an idea. One night at the dinner table, I asked my father if he was allergic to ducks. He laughed and said “No”, then he said “why would ask that question?” I told him since he is not allergic to ducks and we have plenty of room in the back yard that I wanted a duck for my birthday.
My father came home from work few days before my birthday with a large box that quacked. Inside were 2 soft, cream-colored ducklings with bright yellow bills. I named the ducks Steve & Rose. I spent every spare minute in the backyard, building a tiny pond from an old kiddie pool, scattering food, and just playing and watched in amazement as thew grew. They grew into gentle, curious ducks that followed me everywhere.
One September morning, I opened the coop door and found Steve and Rose (both female ducks) sitting quietly in the nesting box. Beneath Steve was a single perfect egg—pale greenish-blue, still warm. I was astonished. It had never occurred to me that with 2 female ducks one would lay an egg. I carried it inside like it was made of glass. I showed it to my mother, who smiled and said, “Well, look at that. Steve is all grown up.”
That night, lying in bed, I stared at the ceiling and thought about the local food pantry where I had volunteered. I had helped pack boxes there once and remembered the long line of tired faces, the mothers counting cans, and the children who looked sad. I thought to myself, one egg wouldn’t change much. But what if there were more eggs? What if there were enough to share?
The next morning, I talked with my parents at breakfast. “I want to raise chickens too,” I said. “And maybe more ducks. I could give the eggs to people who need them. Not sell them—just give them to people in need” I said.
I still remember, my father set his coffee down slowly, then my mother looked at me for a long moment, then nodded. “We’ll start small,” she said. “But you’ll be in charge of the work.”
Over the years, the backyard changed. The duck and chicken habitat started to grow with perches and nesting boxes. Six hens arrived—speckled, golden, black—and two more ducks to keep Steve and Rose company. Eventually it grew to 18 chickens and 6 ducks. I woke early every day to let them out, cleaned the coop, checked for eggs. I learned which hens laid best in winter, how to spot when one was sick, how to keep the water clean and how to keep it from freezing.
Every Saturday I filled a box with whatever had been laid that week. Smooth brown chicken eggs, the pretty blue-green duck eggs, and took them to the local people in need. Sometimes I would set the eggs in various locations where there were people in need. I would put out a small sign that said “for anyone who needs them.”
At first the whole thing felt small. Then people started asking. “Are those Emma’s eggs?”. A grandmother once told me the that the duck eggs made the fluffiest pancakes her grandchildren had ever tasted. One time I saw a man drop a note next to my egg box. The note said simply, Thank you! That was enough to keep me going on cold mornings when my fingers stung from carrying water.
As of date the 23 chickens and 7 ducks have laid a LOT of eggs! With an average of 20 eggs per day over the last 4 years I have been able to hand out approximately 15,000 eggs to people in need.
Steve and Rose both lived peaceful long lives. I never stopped feeling the excitement from when I first reached under Steve and found an egg. But now the thrill is bigger as I am teaching others how to raise Chickens for charity. It wasn’t just about having a duck for me. It was about turning one small wish into something that could feed many people in need, one egg at a time.