The Story of Jane: A Parable of a Rescue

What it takes to rescue and restore girls from human trafficking is often more than we consider. Sometimes girls who are rescued don’t want to be.

Here’s a parable about that, a story from our back yard chicken farm.

Of all our chickens, Jane was my favorite. I named her early after we got as a chick. She was a sleek, black australorp, gentle and friendly with iridescent green feathers.

As she grew with the other chickens, one of the other chickens we thought was a hen turned out to be a rooster. Surprise, surprise!

Rocky the rooster grew meaner and meaner. Having fourteen hens to watch after, Rocky increasingly treated us humans with greater contempt. He attacked me no less than six times and I had to carry a giant rake with me every time I went to collect the eggs in the morning.

But as awful as he treated me, it was nothing compared to how he treated Jane, his favorite hen. While he wouldn’t let us near Jane, and attacked us if we got close, he would pull out her feathers and pluck out bits of her comb. It was painful to watch, to say the least, and more painful to experience, I can presume. She looked abused.

Rocky had to go. We brought him to justice…straight to the stew pot.

We had thought Rocky’s ‘justice’ would have brought relief to Jane.

Our sweet, docile and friendly chicken brooded and scowled from the top of the chicken coop. Out in the yard, she began to chase us, pecking at our legs and hands as often as she could manage. There seemed to be no return to her former self.

Weeks passed. Her feathers and comb began to grow back. She looked much healthier, but she continued to attack us. I dreaded going to the chicken coop and seeing her behave this way.

It seemed as if our rescue failed. Jane acted as if she missed Rocky, even though he abused her terribly. My poor hen suffered from what’s called ‘Stockholm Syndrome’, where the abused prefers the company of the abuser to those who treat her with love, honor and respect. It’s an odd phenomenon, but real. Very real.

Thankfully, this isn’t the end of the story. With massive pain comes the need to blame, but in this case the blame didn’t last forever. Jane has stopped chasing us and pecking at us, for the most part. There are a few symptoms of the past pain. Jane’s wary and skiddish and keeps her distance from the new rooster (who I’ve named Dinner so I can keep all attachments at bay). But Jane’s less apt to attack.

What changed?

I credit the change to the gentle persistence of a little girl, my daughter, who fearlessly approached Jane and held her lovingly. We take turns gently holding Jane.

It’s taken months, but we’re no longer afraid of Jane. Although I think Dinner might be. Our australorp may not be the easiest to love, but oh, I’m so fond of her!