Lessons in Courage from Littlebit, a One-Legged Hen

Over the past few months, I’ve shared our journey with our eleven hens.

One of the chicks hatched with an injury to her left leg. We named her Little Bit because she was smaller than the rest and still is. 

Her good leg has adapted to the loss of the bad leg, which is bent at the knee and kept close beneath her body. She struggles when she hops, pauses often to rest upon her knee, or steadies herself with a wing. She lingers on the edge of the others, uncertain of her surroundings, especially when we let them hang out in the garden. 

Now they are six months older, and we have let them free roam. I was surprised that, for the first week, they did not follow Rosa and Ruby to forage under the feeders or in the garden beds on the other side of our cottage. Eventually, they all became a little braver to explore the rest of the yard—even Little Bit.

She lags. I watch her as she makes two or three hops and readjusts herself. Then she hopes again with the courage to keep up and not miss out on the adventures beyond the coop. I have learned from her quiet insistence to continue.

Little Bit has taught me that no matter how difficult it may be to “keep up” with writing when I don’t feel creative, or to make art when there are too many distractions or foreboding when the business of art is too heavy.

There are those times when I need to put down a knee or stretch my wing for balance.

A good example: I recently applied for a show with strict requirements, and after hours of trying to follow their directions. Their rule: I had to show myself creating the piece in a video; it had to include me filming myself doing the work. They did not accept “In process photos.” I realize that AI-generated work has become a concern. Maybe that is why…

I deleted the application.

Then I looked out my window and watched this brave hen with one leg strive to keep up despite her limitations. As she was determined to go forward to be closer to the flock, they zipped past her heading in the opposite direction.

Setbacks do not have to be defeats.

LittleBit looks confused for a moment—should she follow them or keep moving forward? Most often, she continues at her own pace, even if it means arriving after everyone else or taking a different path altogether.

Isn’t that true for us, too? If we focus too much on constantly shifting rules, platforms, and expectations—if you don’t do A, you can’t get to B, and if you can’t get to B, forget about C—we end up chasing someone else’s direction, not our own.

Little Bit may only have one good leg, but she’s teaching me how to walk my own path.

There are so many everyday moments where we can find encouragement. Please share an experience that helped you keep going.