During the several-month period before our chickens began laying eggs, I started researching whether there were any telltale indicators I should be looking for to let me know it was time (yes, I was very impatient for eggs).

One of the more interesting factoids I gleaned in the process is that a chicken’s comb and wattle are barometers of their sexual maturity and egg laying readiness. (The comb is the bright red, irregularly shaped “crown” on a chicken’s head and the wattle is the red “beard” that dangles beneath its neck.) Both are considered vital organs in a chicken. Who knew?

The size and shape of combs and wattles vary by breed, but in general, on a young, pre-laying female chicken, they tend to be small and pink. As the chicken matures and her body prepares to make eggs, her comb and wattle expand and fill with blood, resulting in those iconic bright red appendages that make chickens so recognizable.

During the hot weather months, a chicken’s comb is critical for survival. Because chickens can’t sweat, they depend on the blood flowing through their combs and wattles to dissipate heat and provide cooling.

However – in cold weather, a chicken’s comb becomes its most vulnerable body part. Because combs and wattles are unprotected by feathers and therefore uninsulated, they are at risk of frostbite. Frostbite will appear as black spots on the tips of a comb or wattle, and in severe cases, the affected tissue will die and won’t grow back. Frostbite alone won’t kill a chicken, but it can negatively impact a bird’s long-term health.

A freeze warning has been issued for the Tallahassee area, and right now I am more worried about frost-bitten chicken combs than freezing water pipes in our house!

I know I can’t bring the birds in my house – they are Olympic-caliber poop-everywhere machines – and I can’t make them wear hats and scarves (although that would be super cute), so I hung a heat lamp in their coop and wrapped their run in a protective tarp. But the most effective defense against freezing temperatures will actually be the body heat they share when they snuggle together and sleep in the nesting box at night.

Lately, I worry about our four grandchildren, too. Not their wattles and combs – they can wear hats and scarves in cold weather. I worry about a different vital organ – their hearts.

My husband and I have had the privilege of watching those kids transform over the years from helpless babies to fearless toddlers to curious preschoolers and adventurous elementary schoolers. Throughout the first decade of their lives, they have blossomed, surrounded by the protective love of their families and a supportive network of friends.

I know the next decade will bring far more difficult challenges for them than learning to speak, walk and sit still in school. And like freezing temperatures in winter, I know those challenges are inevitable.  

But I worry that the innocence that allows them to embrace life so openly and unselfconsciously now, will become hardened by the coldness of a broken world that can be pretty cruel. I know their tender hearts will be jostled and bruised along the way and some of their dreams will be dashed, but I want them to have a defense system against fear and cynicism so their hope and optimism don’t become frostbitten.

I can’t make my chickens wear hats and scarves in the winter; besides, they already know how to keep each other warm. And we can’t keep our children’s hearts in protective coops. But we can teach them to lean into the heart-healing warmth their families and good friends can provide to prevent the destructive “inevitabilities” of this life from crushing a part of their spirit that can’t grow back.

And while we’re at it, maybe we can all look out for one other, too – and be quick to offer a hug or a warm coat when it gets cold.

“But encourage one another daily, as long as it is called “Today”, so that none of you may be hardened by sin’s deceitfulness.”

(Hebrews 3:13)