No one knew what to do except watch the ooze slide out of the eggshell.
"My BABY!" Dalilah squealed. She looked up at the kids and all of their mouths hung to the ground.
"Wah happen, Whywa?" Sanders asked. His shaggy blonde hair touched the tops of his wide eyes.
"I . . . I accidentally broke the egg . . . " Dalilah's voice trailed off like a ghost carried by the breeze.
"I'm sorry, Eggie, I didn't mean to crack you," she spoke to the egg.
Everyone sat in silence for a few minutes.
"Well, the only thing to do now is to hold a proper funeral for the egg," she told the kids.
"How do we do that?" asked Luella.
"First, we find a burial spot."
Dalilah turned to the flowerbed to her right and started digging a hole in the mulch.
"This spot is perfect," Dalilah said to the kids, "it will be the egg's eternal resting bed."
"What does eternal mean?" Avett asked.
Dalilah heard her Preacher at church use the word one Sunday but she forgot what it meant.
"It means earth," she said confidently. She selected two mulch pieces and carefully picked up the remains of the egg like she was using chopsticks. Then she dropped it into the hole she made.
"Now, I'll need exactly 1 piece of hair from everyone," Dalilah instructed.
"A hair? What? Why?" Luella questioned.
"Because, we need to give something to the egg so it can remember us. It's parents are gone and it has no one."
Luella agreed and one-by-one all the kids began to pull strands of hair out of their heads. Each kid gave a loud "ouch!" when they plucked a hair from their heads. Then they laid the strands on top of the egg and Dalilah covered it with dirt and mulch.
She placed her hand over her heart and recited the Texas Pledge of Allegiance. It was the most respectful thing she had ever done.