No one said…
our good-byes would be so difficult and have to last forever.
our journey crossing the Atlantic would be so long.
trains rides lasting days would take us across vast America
so many hardships and crisis could be experienced on the plains.
prairie grasses waved in the wind and beauty was found as far as the eyes could see.
the family would flourish and great bounty be realized.
the snows ran deep and a pioneer Christmas could be so perfect.
how important owning land would be for Papa.
…But I did and I am.
The
Storytellers
I have been married for 43
years to a farmer. I promised myself when I went away to college I would never
marry a farmer nor move back to my hometown. I grew up on a farm and knew how
hard that life could be. Well, I no longer say “I will never…” because I did
them both. Honesty prompts me to tell you it was a good choice for both of us,
and we raised two boys who have chosen to work with the family operation.
Like Richelle we
experienced floods, drought, straight winds, and even grasshoppers. I remember
one year we planted a field of soybeans three times, and each time the crop
came up, it was eaten by a new batch of the insects. They ate them to the
ground, and then we replanted. Tenacity is so a part of the farmer’s life. With
the fifth generation coming on, we have each improved the operation, expanded
it and stayed the fight to keep it going. I empathize with Richelle’s family’s
struggle to make a life on the prairies.
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