My cousin sent this to me today from my Uncle Marvin’s funeral notice. I didn’t know him that well, but enjoyed visiting his dairy farm and spending time with his family. I still remember him squeezing some fresh milk from the cow into the cat’s mouths, and his fields full of old Volvos, some with trees growing up through the hoods! And tasting fresh milk for the first time – so different from our store-bought milk, and so much better. My Uncle Marvin was married to my mom’s sister Marie, who passed away years ago. He lived a good long life, to 85.
My brother stayed on the farm one summer and worked, a bit of “growing up” for him. Sometimes I really wish I had a farm to send my kids off to – it would be good for them.
Prayers to all the family for their loss.
A Farmer’s Hands
(adapted from My Father’s Hands – Rev. Ken Mettler)
Hands that are large and tough from years of rugged, outdoor work.
Hands that are versatile, weilding an ax into an oak and swiping a fistful of berries from a nearby bush.
Hands that clasp themselves habitually in prayer, giving thanks for food, rain, sun, soil, health, and a newborn calf.
Hands that are strong, squeezing out a pail full of milk or carrying hay and water to hungry, thirsty farm creatures.
Hands that are tired from over a half century of tilling, planting, weeding, harvesting.
Hands that we love, our father’s.
3 Responses
Thanks for sharing this, Donna; my Grandfather was a farmer too. I forwarded it to my mom, she would enjoy this as well.
I’m sorry to hear about your loss; but heartened to hear he had such a full, long life – like my Grandpa. Though difficult work, farming keeps people close to the earth and there seems to be something nourishing about that.
Peace
-Angela
Good thoughts. Marvin collected Studebakers, by the way.
Nice way to honor you uncle, Donna. May he rest in peace.