Once upon a time, on a farm quite close to yours, there lived a hen called Emma. She was a perfectly ordinary brown hen with nothing particularly remarkable about her. But she was far from foolish. She simply never let anyone notice - and that, in itself, was rather clever. Every day she laid her eggs as expected, and the farmer's wife was pleased with her and paid her no further attention.

But Emma had a secret.

Quietly, in a dark corner of the barn, she had built herself a little nest where she patiently hatched six tiny chicks. For a while the farmer's wife wondered why Emma seemed to be laying fewer eggs than before, but she didn't think much of it. Perhaps she wasn't quite as clever as Emma?

Then at last the great day arrived.

Proudly, Emma led her six fluffy chicks out into the farmyard for everyone to admire. Their father, the cockerel, was beside himself with pride. At once he flew up onto the haystack and crowed at the top of his voice so that absolutely everyone would look.

The farmer's wife threw up her hands in surprise.

"I never noticed a thing! And I don't really need any chicks - I already have plenty of hens. Well... now that they're here..."

The farmer merely shook his head and made his way carefully towards the cowshed, for every hen in the yard had gathered to welcome the newcomers, and he had to take care not to trip over one excited clucking bird after another. The farmer's wife simply scattered an extra handful of grain so the little ones would have plenty to eat. And so life on the farm carried on happily.

Everything would have been perfect, had a hawk not spotted the chicks. The hawk was delighted. Young chickens were his favourite meal. At first he glided silently overhead. Then, in a flash, he folded his wings and plunged towards the ground, his talons stretched out to snatch one of those tempting little yellow bundles of fluff. 

The entire flock exploded in panic. Hens scattered in every direction, squawking and flapping wildly, feathers flying everywhere. Only Emma remained. She stood alone in the middle of the yard with her chicks.

She was terrified. But she would do absolutely anything to save her children.

Just as the hawk swooped low enough to strike, Emma sprang into the air and landed squarely on his back. With all the strength she possessed, she began pecking him again and again. The hawk had never expected anything like it. Usually hens ran away. Instead, this one had attacked him.

The unexpected weight and the furious assault forced him down. Desperately he tried to shake the determined hen from his back, but as long as she clung to him he couldn't take off again. Worse still, he feared for his eyes, for Emma kept aiming her sharp beak straight at them.

At last - at long last - the hawk managed to throw off his unexpected passenger. In blind panic he beat his wings and shot into the sky, without his prey, thinking only of saving his own life.

Emma hurried back to her chicks and gathered them lovingly beneath her wings. Her heart was still pounding so hard it felt as though it might leap from her breast. Silence settled over the farmyard. Not a single hen made a sound. Even the proud cockerel stood there looking deeply ashamed, for he had fled just as quickly as all the hens had.

The farmer's wife had seen the commotion and had already been hurrying across the yard to chase the hawk away. But Emma had been faster.

She looked at the brave little hen with deep admiration and said,

"From this day on, your name is Mama Emma... and you shall never, ever, ever end up in my cooking pot."

And so it was. Emma lived a long and happy hen's life until her days came to a natural end.

-.-

This story is based on a true event. The brave broody hen was affectionately known for the rest of her life as "Mamica" – "Little Mother".