In the spring, an occurrence in the city appeared to be ordinary.

The health check resulted in the removal of roughly 20,000 chicken eggs from retailers.

The majority were considered unacceptable due to being expired, cracked, or unclean.

All were transferred to the city landfill, which was surrounded by barbed wire.

Trucks unloaded egg cartons like typical rubbish. After a few days, the boxes came apart in the rain, some were pecked by birds, and the remainder were simply lost amid the debris.

Residents quickly forgot about it. However, three months later, something unexpected occurred.

Early in the morning, the landfill caretaker noticed that the crows were not settling on the organic trash pile as they usually did. He approached—and froze. Something was moving within the heap of rubbish.

Thousands of tiny yellow fluff balls ran over rotten potatoes and empty yogurt containers. Small, squeaky, and lively. Chicks. There were several of them.

They were everywhere—between tires, behind plastic bottles, and in the cracks of old furniture.

How did they survive? How did they hatch without an incubator, hen, or care? The news quickly traveled throughout the city. People gathered to witness the “miracle.” Scientists were perplexed; there was no logic behind it. The landfill provided no conditions for hatching, particularly after such a long time. Locals began dubbing them “chicks from nowhere.”

The chicks began to be adopted – some out of compassion, some out of superstition. Although government agencies could not provide an explanation, city residents knew that these were more than merely chicks. It was a wonder born in the rubbish.