Little Girl

We first met Little Girl when she was ten years old. That’s very old for a chicken; for a horse, that’s practically middle age. But it must be young for humans because Little Girl still had a round, rosy face and uneven, pearly teeth. Back then, she wore her patterned T-shirts and denim overalls with sparkly pink shoes.

When she first peeked into our old wooden barn, she made a high, lilting sound--humans call it laughing--and ran to us, trying to touch each of us with her small, grasping hands.

Her dad (we call him “Farmer”) pointed to each of us, telling her our names: Bessie, Berta, and Belle, the cows; Rosey and Posey, the pigs; Fluffy, Flower, Fairy, and Frou-frou, the chickens; Winston and Margot, the horses; Mittens, Socks, and Sherbert, the sheep; and Bashful, the donkey. Every time she learned a new name, Little Girl smiled and introduced herself in kind.

Every day, Little Girl would race into the barn and greet us each by name. She took care of us and cared about us, as friends do. Farmer and Old Farmer--she calls them Dad and Grandpa--taught her how to feed us, groom us, and everything else. But she was the one who knew exactly how we wanted to be pet, stroked, and cuddled (and that is very important).

And every day, she would tell us stories. Sometimes she would show us her favorite picture books and all the colors inside. Other times, she would read from thicker books with lots of words and pages. Our favorite times were when she would make up stories of her own. Those ones always ended with “happily ever after,” whatever that means.

Little Girl was there to watch us grow. She was there every morning when the cows were milked; every night, she placed a blanket on Bashful’s back. She was there in the spring when the sheep were shorn and the hens’ eggs hatched and the pigs gave birth to squealing piglets. She was there in the fall when the leaves turned orange and the fields were filled with food. She was there in the winter to set up the bucket that catches the rain that falls through the hole in the ceiling. She was there in the summer, laying on her back among the hay, looking through that hole in the ceiling to find the stars. Throughout the seasons, she rode the horses to the highest hill and looked down on her small town.

We watched Little Girl grow, too. We were there when she got pink bumps on her face and metal wires on her teeth; we were there when, seasons later, the bumps and wires disappeared. We were there when her round face became slender (and saw that her rosy cheeks stayed the same).

Around this time, she started spending more time in the barn. Many nights, we saw her eyes gleam as water ran down her cheeks. She said that her mom and dad were yelling at each other a lot. She said she didn’t have anyone to talk to. But she had us, and we were there for her. We listened.

Every day after school, she came to the barn. She told us about her day, about everything that went right and wrong. Her pencil scratched on papers called “homework” and her fingers clacked on a “keyboard” that made colors change on a “screen.” She said these things would help her get out of her small town (though riding away on a horse sounds much easier). Every night, she would tell us more stories about all the things she would do in what she called “the real world.”

One day, Little Girl came in wearing black. Her voice shook when she told us that Old Farmer was gone. She said it shouldn’t have happened so soon. She fell asleep in the barn that night. The chickens and the piglets settled all around her; the larger animals watched over it all. We knew she needed us there, so we were there. Every day, we were there for her. Little Girl wore black for a very long time.

When she started wearing colors again, she spent more time away. When she visited, she told us the stories of her friends, the places they’d seen, and the things they did. She smiled a lot and she walked with a skip in her step. She told us there was someone special she wanted us to meet.

One day she walked into the barn with Mr. Someone Special on her arm. She wore a pretty flowered dress instead of her overalls. She ran around the barn, introducing us to him, her cheeks blushed pink. This was an important day for her; she had told us that every day for weeks.

When she finished introducing us, he looked at her and laughed. This was not a lilting sound, like Little Girl’s laugh; it was harsh and mean and loud. He said things that made water run down her cheeks; he called her things that made her cheeks flush red. He pointed at Bessie, the cow, and laughed some more, which made Little Girl sob. It was clear that Mr. Someone Special was not someone special at all.

When he walked out, Bessie kicked him in the leg.

The second boy was much better. Sort of. He was polite and smiled at us and made an effort to learn our names. He wore tan slacks and a blue shirt with buttons; it looked nice next to Little Girl’s pink dress. They sat near each other on a bale of hay, but never closed the space between them. That space was enough for three chickens. They had what Little Girl called a “pleasant conversation,” which must mean when two people talk and the boy fiddles with his hands while the girl digs her heels into the ground. After a little while, she walked him out. She told us they decided it was better they stay friends.

The third and the fourth and the fifth boy were the same. They smiled at us and had “pleasant conversations.” They wore shirts and slacks that paired well with Little Girl’s dresses. But they were just nice and that was it.

We knew Little Girl wanted someone who would go on adventures with her, so when she decided to “take a break from boys,” we approved. Besides, we know she’s much more comfortable in overalls.

One night she came in with one of her new friends, a girl with long wavy hair. This girl wore jeans and a printed T-shirt that went well with Little Girl’s patterned shirt and overalls. The girl with the long wavy hair came to each of us and introduced herself. She pet us the way Little Girl showed her and quickly learned all our names. She made Little Girl laugh and smile. We watched the two girls talk and sing and dance and search for stars through the hole in the ceiling.

When the Little Girl came to the barn every day, the girl with the long wavy hair came, too. She helped Little Girl with our feeding and grooming and gave us lots of smiles and attention. Every day we watched her make Little Girl laugh and smile. Every day we watched them talk together, sing together, and dance together in a way that was slow and sweet. If we could blush, we would have when the girls had their first kiss.

Little Girl and Girlfriend spent many days with us and told us many stories. But they taught us that every story has to have an end.

The day came when they had to say goodbye. Our Little Girl was grown and had to say goodbye. She told us she was going to get out of her small town and find herself. She promised we would see her again someday.

We didn’t see Little Girl for a very long time. The seasons passed, then they passed again and again, and she was still gone. Farmer took good care of us as always. But we missed our friend, our Little Girl.

After many seasons, Farmer told us that he was going to “retire.” He said a New Farmer was going to take care of us. He promised that she was a Bright Young Woman.

When New Farmer walked into the barn, she gave us a rosy-cheeked smile and greeted us each by name. Her hair was lighter than we remembered it and she had small lines at the corners of her eyes. But from the moment she said hello, we recognized her. People may call her Bright Young Woman, but to us, she’s still Little Girl.

Little Girl said she went out into “the real world” to find herself but found that, in doing so, she had left herself behind. That part was confusing, but then she said that she realized she was happiest here, in the old barn with us. She said that she and Girlfriend--who she now calls Wife--are going to take care of us from now on.

When Little Girl ended her stories with “happily ever after,” we used to not understand what she meant. Now we do. Every day that passes, Little Girl and Girlfriend take care of us and show us what it means. With Little Girl and Girlfriend, we live happily ever after.