Chicken Math

Monday, June 15, 2026

A couple of weeks ago, I received a late-night Facebook message (late for me anyway!) from a woman who said her son's friends were out back at Convivium visiting the chickens and had found a couple of our baby chicks loose.

There was just one problem: We didn’t have any baby chicks.

After a quick change out of my pajamas, I headed out to investigate. What I found were two strapping farm kids, each carefully cupping a tiny chick in their hands. Baby chicks indeed. Just not ours.

Of all the unexpected things a small business owner might have to deal with, this was not one I had anticipated.

Fortunately, we raise a brood of chicks every few years to replenish our laying flock, so we had everything we needed to care for them. The boys helped me get the chicks safely tucked in for the night, and within fifteen minutes we were all on our way—back to bed.

As I lay awake afterward, I kept thinking about how easily those boys could have walked away. Instead, they took the time to find someone who knew me. She reached out to me. I came down to help. Together, a handful of people solved a small problem. (We suspect someone had dropped the chicks off without telling us.)

It was a simple interaction, but it stayed with me. How often do we notice a problem and take a small step to help? And how often do we convince ourselves it's not our place to get involved?

Sadly, one of the chicks didn't make it. The other did. She was a friendly little thing with plenty to say, which prompted a trip to Theisen's for a few companions.

And that's how we ended up with nine baby chicks.

You can visit them in our Learning Center for another couple of weeks before they join our existing flock. Each day, our chickens provide eggs for the restaurant, help consume vegetable scraps, and offer endless entertainment for patrons and neighbors alike.

Among chicken keepers, there's a running joke called chicken math—the mysterious equation that turns two chickens into six, six into twelve, and somehow leaves you wondering how your flock grew yet again. In our case, two abandoned chicks became nine.

But the more I've thought about that evening, the more I've realized that kindness has its own version of chicken math. One person notices a problem. Two boys stop to help. A woman sends a message. Someone gets out of bed. None of those actions are particularly large, but together they add up to something much bigger than any one person intended.

We spend a lot of time talking about community at Convivium. Often, we think of community as something grand—a program, an event, or a major initiative. But more often, it looks like a late-night Facebook message, neighbors looking out for one another, and people deciding that someone else's problem is worth a few minutes of their time.

The world could use a little more of that kind of math.

And if it occasionally results in nine baby chicks instead of two, well, we're happy to live with the consequences.

Yours convivially,