E-I-E-I-O

 

E-I-E-I-O

When my daughter Elizabeth was three I used to say that she could keep up with the three boys just fine.  She was a tomboy, but a feminine one, as she did everything the boys did, but she did it all while wearing a dress.  I remember a camping trip to Laura Lake when the two older boys, Jake and Nate, were very perturbed that Lizzy caught the most fish. 

But, over time, she discovered Barbie dolls and the color pink, and some of those Disney princesses. When she was in fifth grade and she wanted to join the school band, she selected the flute as her instrument.  She was good enough at it to play in the marching band, and the woodwind orchestra through high school.  I was disappointed that when she went off to college she didn’t elect to pursue music any further.  She did call me all excited in her junior year to let me know that she joined the pep band.  It turned out that she needed a credit to make up for another short course that she had dropped, and the pep band was looking for members.  “What sport are you going to be playing for?” I asked.  “Hockey!”  Nothing says “hockey like the flute”, I thought.  I was amused, but I wasn’t surprised. 

One thing has remined constant with Elizabeth.  When she was just a baby I used to sing, “You are my sunshine” to her.  Sunshine described her personality from baby on into adulthood.  The girl knows how to wear a smile; it never seems to leave her face.

Elizabeth married into a farm family.  They are good people.  Her husband Jason works for an international farm implement company to support the family, but he spends a lot of time helping out on his dad’s farm that is located just a couple of miles away.  It’s in his blood, so it didn’t surprise me that Jason helps out on the farm.  He maintains all of the heavy machinery that’s needed on a modern farm these days. 

What did surprise me several years ago was when I found out that Elizabeth also found a way to help during the busy seasons on the farm.  She learned how to drive the combine.  Now, Lizzy is five foot nothing and weighs about the same as a couple of bales of hay.  Her chosen “instrument” on the farm is the size of a small house. And, she combines it all: oats, wheat, soybeans and corn.  Sometimes someone in the family watches the kids, but if no one is available, or the kids want to, they get packed up and join her in the driver’s cab.  I would think the size of the machinery would be intimidating, but it isn’t to her.  There’s that smile again.  She looks forward to harvest times.      

Farming is not easy.  The hours are long and the pay many times doesn’t do much more than keep things afloat.  But there is an honesty about it.  At its best it still brings the family together as everyone is needed to chip in with whatever chores need doing.  It is still good to work the land.

Old McDonald still has a farm, EIEIO.            

His Peace <><

Deacon Dan