The Haxtun-Fleming Herald - What can we reason but from what we know? -Alexander Pope

We are a farm family, so playing with tractors, combines, semis, barns and cows is commonplace. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve stubbed my toe on a toy tractor or vacuumed up a barnyard animal. The boys love to farm whatever dad is farming at the time, and (for the most part) work as a good team to get their carpet fields harvested.

Last week, we were taking a break from harvesting to let a field dry out a bit so the boys and I were just hanging out at the farm waiting for the go ahead from Dad and Papa. The second they walked into Grandma and Papa’s house, they dragged the farm mats up from the basement and got out every single farm implement and animal they could find and got to work.

But this time, watching my oldest play with tractors hit me like a gut punch. With each passing summer, he’s becoming less interested in playing farm and more interested in actually farming.

Quicker than I know it, he’ll be driving the grain cart with his two teenage hands instead of pushing one around with his six-year-old fingers. He’s becoming more observant of the process, asking questions that I myself was asking nine years ago (I was not a farm kid). He even climbed up the back of the semi to help his grandpa unload the grain cart and used the right hand signals without anyone asking or telling him what to do. All of the sudden he’s part of the team and not just a spectator.

Each summer, I feel so very blessed that my boys get to spend these long, hot days doing what they love with their dad, grandpa, uncle, grandma and me when I substitute. They get dirty, sweaty, hot and end up with the cutest little farmer’s tans on their arms. I hope that farming will teach them the value of hard work, patience and faith because that’s exactly what it takes to farm ... well that and a little bit of rain.