Pride, love and happiness
For years, I have gathered my thoughts, experiences and feelings. I have written them down with the intention of sharing the compilation of experiences with my family as well as others someday, somehow.
Not even my family really knew that I was always writing down the little things that happen in our daily lives and I was not in any hurry to share these thoughts or views with anyone, however, when a recent small tragedy struck our family, it prompted me to share this information with them. Since agriculture seems to offer me such unique views and insights into what life and family is really about, I felt that it was time to start to share some of these experiences with others as well.
I have to be honest though and say that although I have many pages of stories, thoughts and ideas written down to share, it has not been easy for me to decide what to share, who to share it with, and when to share it. Should I start at the beginning and share my roots and where I believe my passion for farming and agriculture came from? Should I start with my adult life and how I finally got into farming? Or should I simply start at where I am in life write now and share my views and experiences as they happen?
I still don't know the answer to that question so I decided for the moment to share the story and the tragedy that prompted me to want to share my thoughts and views with others. Please keep in mind that the following story was not written in context to be shared as a story but rather an observation that I had made on a Sunday morning in December of 2006. It appears here exactly how I wrote it down at that time.
The Kitchen Window
The kitchen window of a farm is a spectacular view into the beauty of many of God's things. I realized this in Dec of 2006. It was a cold and snowy Sunday morning, December 3, 2006, to be exact. I was the first one up as usual. I was listening to the John Ritter Rise Up Show on my headphones as I always did on Sunday morning, drinking coffee and getting ready to make our usual Sunday morning family breakfast.
Our kitchen window has a view of two of our barns and barnyard. It is always beautiful to see the fresh white snow on white fence, barns, trees, etc. As I started cooking bacon for breakfast, I sent my 10-year-old son Christopher out to the barn to let animals out for the day and to gather eggs for breakfast. As I stood at the window, drinking coffee and cooking bacon, I watched my son struggle to open the barn door that was frozen shut.
He couldn't do it, but it gave me great pride to watch him not give up. He struggled and struggled, shook his head, cleared snow from the tracks, pushed, pulled and everything else he could do, but it wouldn't budge. For quite some time, he didn't see me watching him. He then looked back at me and saw me watching him from the window. I lifted my arms and shrugged my shoulders as if to say, "Oh well!"
I expected him to give up and was planning to go out and help, but Christopher simply lifted his arms, shrugged his shoulders, and went back to struggling with the door. He didn't give up and eventually won the battle with the door.