One Hundred Eggs for Henrietta (3 page)

Ninety-six, ninety-seven, ninety-eight, ninety-nine…

On the brink of hitting one hundred eggs, everyone was exhausted. Finished. Not another egg could be had from the girls in the henhouse or the birds on the pond. Not another strawberry could be found to dye another egg.

It was Saturday night and the cats were working feverishly. “Oh my, oh my,” Henrietta continued her fretting. “We are one egg short and one child too many.”

Drumming her head early the next morning, Henrietta tried to find a solution to her newest problem -- where could she find one more egg?

Just then from high atop an apple tree, a very tiny hummingbird swooped down, holding the most exquisite tiny golden egg in her feathered hand.

Offering it to Henrietta, she said, “I’ve been watching all of you work so hard to fulfill the dream of every child of having an Easter egg on Easter Sunday. I see that you are lacking one egg. I would like to do what I can to help in my small way. Here is my egg.”

Gratefully Henrietta took the egg, golden in color with a hint of blue and smaller in size than a pea. Gently she placed this golden egg on a blade of grass beneath the apple tree. “My, my,” thought Henrietta, “this is the most beautiful egg of all. Surely some small child will find it and love it with all of his or her heart. It is perfect.”

She thanked the hummingbird as it rose from its hovering position and disappeared into the sky.

With the rising sun, Farmer Johnson opened the gates to welcome his visitors – one hundred happy children with their Easter baskets in hand. Each ran in a different direction, looking for a hidden treasure – a purple egg, a pink egg, a blue egg,
a
rose egg.

As
each child found an egg, he or she would help another child find theirs
. The finding and helping continued until all all the baskets were filled and all the eggs were discovered, all except one – the hundredth egg!

A very little girl still had an empty basket. She wandered among the grass, searching for her egg.

From atop the apple tree the small humming bird watched. She could see the little girl hunting and searching, unable to find an egg to call her own.

Then in a flash of speed, the hummingbird dove to where her egg lay gleaming on that small blade of grass. She hovered above it, drawing attention to herself and the spot where the egg rested.

A moment later, the little girl held the very little Easter egg in her hand. It was as golden as the sun and more beautiful than the wings of the one who had laid it, the hummingbird. The little girl held it so sweetly and gently. She loved it with all her heart.