The little chicks were only half out of their shells when the worrying started.
“Look at all these broken pieces,” said one chick to his brother.
“We’ll never be able to get back in,” said another, in a very small voice. “Oh dear. We’ve gone and broken our shells and now we can’t undo it. And what if we want to? What if the big barnyard is frightening? What if we want to crawl back to our little dark hiding places?”
“Little chicks,” said a gentle voice — and the fairy queen, who had come closer than she usually did, spoke from somewhere just out of sight.
“You are growing out of your shells the same way boys and girls grow out of their shoes and their clothes. They can’t go back into the old ones either — not because they’ve been careless, but because that’s what growing means.
“A grown man can’t go back into being a little boy. A little boy can’t go back to being a baby in a carriage. And you cannot go back into your shells. None of us can. It isn’t Mother Nature’s way.
“And her way is always the best way.
“So don’t be sad, little ones. Leaving your shells doesn’t mean losing something. It means growing into something. Into big, strong chickens.”
And the little chicks looked at each other, and at the wide barnyard stretching out ahead of them, and found that they were happy after all.
