03/02/2026
The snake bit the hen, and with the poison burning in her body, she sought refuge in her henhouse. But the other hens preferred to expel her so that the poison would not spread. The hen limped away, crying in pain, not because of the bite, but because of the abandonment and contempt of her own family at the moment when she needed them most.
So she left, burning with fever and dragging one of her legs, vulnerable to the cold nights. With each step, a tear fell. The hens in the hen house watched her go away, watching her disappear on the horizon.
Some said to each other, Let her go. She will die far from us. And when the hen finally vanished into the immensity of the horizon, they were all sure that she had died. Some even looked at the sky, hoping to see vultures flying.
Time passed. Much later, a hummingbird came to the hen house and announced, Your sister is alive. She lives in a cave far away from here. She recovered but lost a leg from the snake bite. She has trouble finding food and needs your help.
There was silence. Then the excuses began. I can't go. I'm laying eggs. I can't go. I'm looking for corn. I can't go. I have to take care of my chicks. So one by one, they all refused the request. The hummingbird returned to the cave without help.
Time passed again. Much later, the hummingbird returned, but this time with painful news. Your sister has passed away. She died alone in the cave. There is no one to bury her or mourn her. At that moment a weight fell on everyone.
A deep lament filled the hen house. Those who were laying eggs stopped. Those who were looking for corn left the seeds. And those who were caring for the chicks forgot about them for a moment. Regret hurt more than any poison.
Why didn't we go before? They asked themselves. And without measuring the distance or the effort, they all set off for the cave, crying and lamenting. Now they had a reason to see her, but it was too late.
When they got to the cave, they didn't find the hen. They only found a letter that said, In life, many times people don't cross the street to help you when you're alive, but they cross the world to bury you when you die.
And most of the tears at funerals are not from pain, but from remorse and regret. The moral of the story, true love and kindness should be shown in life, not in death. Helping someone when they are suffering is far more meaningful than mourning them when it's too late.
Regret is a heavy burden, but compassion in the moment can lighten the heart forever.
