Hay is a wonderful thing. I absolutely love walking into our shed, smelling the sweet fragrance of hay. If it wasn't so dusty, I would be tempted to toss myself down in a big loose pile of it and take a nap. My goats love it too. It's the best quality, greenest hay I have ever fed them, and they have never looked better, in spite of the fact that Darcy the Mama goat is about fifteen years old. Recently the temperatures have been dipping into the single digits, with wind chills well below zero. Hay becomes more than fragrant foodstuff, it becomes fuel to fire internal furnaces, and bedding to hunker down in. It becomes the stuff of survival, if you happen to be a goat.
It is the stuff of survival to humans too, though I don't plan to burrow into it to keep warm. A couple of days ago we made a trip out to the dairy farm where we get our supply of hay. The farm is owned by a remarkable farmer named Levi. For a few years now, we have made the trek to get loads of hay, sometimes by the truck full, and sometimes just a few bales at a time. No matter the time of day, Levi always comes to greet us, jogging across the long drive to shake hubby's hand. He waves us toward the barn, and helps us load the bales. Then he sidesteps every attempt to pay him. No matter that his hay fetches some of the highest prices at fancy horse farms down south, he will not take our money. Once we succeeded in paying his wife, when he wasn't looking, but he managed to return our money later.
So in the end we have to thank him for his kindness, and accept his gift to our family. He does it because we work in ministry to youth. He does it because we adopted unwanted children. It is his contribution to the effort. He does more than feed and warm goats. He does more than save us a few dollars. He blesses and encourages our entire family with his kindness and generosity.
It is the stuff of survival to humans too, though I don't plan to burrow into it to keep warm. A couple of days ago we made a trip out to the dairy farm where we get our supply of hay. The farm is owned by a remarkable farmer named Levi. For a few years now, we have made the trek to get loads of hay, sometimes by the truck full, and sometimes just a few bales at a time. No matter the time of day, Levi always comes to greet us, jogging across the long drive to shake hubby's hand. He waves us toward the barn, and helps us load the bales. Then he sidesteps every attempt to pay him. No matter that his hay fetches some of the highest prices at fancy horse farms down south, he will not take our money. Once we succeeded in paying his wife, when he wasn't looking, but he managed to return our money later.
So in the end we have to thank him for his kindness, and accept his gift to our family. He does it because we work in ministry to youth. He does it because we adopted unwanted children. It is his contribution to the effort. He does more than feed and warm goats. He does more than save us a few dollars. He blesses and encourages our entire family with his kindness and generosity.
0 comments:
Post a Comment