The old farmer
The old farmer
credit to the Arthur,
The old farmer came in from morning chores. He changed his ragged coat, wet boots with hurried excitement. Back out the door, in the truck, and gone before his wife could pour his coffee.
What could he be in such a hurry for on Christmas eve she thought to herself.
Miles away a car slowly navigates the familiar but frozen country roads. Very unhappy kids in the backseat.
"Why do we have to go there"
"That farm is dirty "
"They smell funny"
"They never get us anything"
Their dad looked sternly at them in the mirror.
"Your grandparents are hardworking people"
"They don't have a lot of money"
After the last miles in silence they arrived at the old farmhouse. Met at the door with big warm hugs that only Mamaw can give, and fresh cookies.
"Where's Dad"?
"He took off to town right after milking" said the old lady.
Soon the old man returned. After the usual lukewarm greeting, and a few ruffled heads he sat a cloth alfalfa seed bag beside his worn but comfortable chair without notice from anyone. He brushed the white hair from his wife's face for a peck on the cheek as she poured his coffee.
It wasn't long that the old man rose from his chair, pulled on his old coat, stuck a couple cookies in his pocket, and headed out to the barn. Followed quickly by the younger man doing his best to keep up. Leaving the disinterested kids with there electronics.
In the barn the young man was transported to the simpler days of his childhood. The vacuum pump humming outside, the clicking of the pulsators overhead, the calm gentle way the old man talked to the cows. Everything just the way it always had been. Without being told he knew exactly what to do to help. Like riding a bicycle he jumped right in. Strangely the tedious tasks of forking hay, scooping feed, and cleaning cows seemed more gratifying to him now than at 16.
.To the old mans surprise everything was soon finished. With a tired old hand on his shoulder he jokingly said, "Good help is hard to find".
Soon they returned to the tiny farmhouse to find a Christmas Eve supper fit for a king. Everything from their farm, the good simple kind of food that can only come from loving experienced hands, well cared for animals, and a well manured garden.
After his last sip of coffee, and his second piece of pie the old man headed back out the door.
"Clara is supposed to calve tonight" he told his wife "be back soon.
Time went by. The old lady looked worried as she peered out the kitchen window.
"I'll go get him Momma" the young man said as he pulled on his coat.
He found the old man in a dark corner of the barn shoulder deep in an old cow who looked close to death.
His first thought was for his boys to see what was about to happen. He ran back to the house and without explanation grabbed the young boys and all but dragged them out to the old barn. They found the old man still struggling to untangle the calf inside while the cow bawled faintly in the deep straw.
"That's disgusting"
"What is he doing"
"Hush and watch"
Finally the old man managed to free both back legs. Recognizing the urgency of the situation the younger man jumped the gate to help his already tired father. Together they freed the huge bull calf from its mother. Decades of experience kicked in, the old man did what he'd done a thousand times before. Once the calf coughed to life and began to wiggle its slimy ears he pulled it around for the cow to clean off. However she was to far gone.
"Sit down Dad. I will clean it up"
Using the straw, then warm towels, soon the calf was trying to stand.
The young boys were amazed by what they had just witnessed. A thousand questions ran through their heads, but they couldn't find the words to ask them.
Frozen colostrum saved for just such an occasion and shortly the new calf was on its feet.
The old man hadn't said anything for a couple hours. As he took out an old pistol wrapped in oiled rags from a cabinet he asked his son if he wanted to take the kids outside.
"No they've seen birth they need to see the rest"
"This part ain't as pretty" said the old man as he rubbed the words "Vietnam 68-69" crudely scratched into the pistol.
The younger boy began to cry asking what Papaw was going to do.
He held his children close as the old man cocked the pistol. He lovingly stroked the old cows head then put her down.
The shot rang threw the old barn every animal jumped. The younger boy ran back to the house. Having heard the gunshot the old woman about knew what had happened.
As everyone quietly came back in the house the old woman whispered to her son "Clara was born the day your brother went to Iraq"
This was a special cow to the old man. He sat quietly in his chair by the wood stove. Tears periodically rolling down his sun aged face, disappearing into his white beard.
As everyone quietly came back in the house the old woman whispered to her son "Clara was born the day your brother went to Iraq"
This was a special cow to the old man. He sat quietly in his chair by the wood stove. Tears periodically rolling down his sun aged face, disappearing into his white beard.
Suddenly he wiped his face before he thought anyone would notice. "Well its Christmas now" he sorrowfully said "Sorry I ruined it for everyone".
Before anyone could protest he pulled out his seed bag.
"Maybe I can make it a little better".
For each of the boys he presented a plain black Bible with their name inscribed on it, and a new case pocket knife.
"You boys have seen some of the best, and some of the worst parts of life tonight" the old man's voice broke as he began to speak. "Now you have the two best tools I can give you to deal with it".
The old farmer came in from morning chores. He changed his ragged coat, wet boots with hurried excitement. Back out the door, in the truck, and gone before his wife could pour his coffee.
What could he be in such a hurry for on Christmas eve she thought to herself.
Miles away a car slowly navigates the familiar but frozen country roads. Very unhappy kids in the backseat.
"Why do we have to go there"
"That farm is dirty "
"They smell funny"
"They never get us anything"
Their dad looked sternly at them in the mirror.
"Your grandparents are hardworking people"
"They don't have a lot of money"
After the last miles in silence they arrived at the old farmhouse. Met at the door with big warm hugs that only Mamaw can give, and fresh cookies.
"Where's Dad"?
"He took off to town right after milking" said the old lady.
Soon the old man returned. After the usual lukewarm greeting, and a few ruffled heads he sat a cloth alfalfa seed bag beside his worn but comfortable chair without notice from anyone. He brushed the white hair from his wife's face for a peck on the cheek as she poured his coffee.
It wasn't long that the old man rose from his chair, pulled on his old coat, stuck a couple cookies in his pocket, and headed out to the barn. Followed quickly by the younger man doing his best to keep up. Leaving the disinterested kids with there electronics.
In the barn the young man was transported to the simpler days of his childhood. The vacuum pump humming outside, the clicking of the pulsators overhead, the calm gentle way the old man talked to the cows. Everything just the way it always had been. Without being told he knew exactly what to do to help. Like riding a bicycle he jumped right in. Strangely the tedious tasks of forking hay, scooping feed, and cleaning cows seemed more gratifying to him now than at 16.
.To the old mans surprise everything was soon finished. With a tired old hand on his shoulder he jokingly said, "Good help is hard to find".
Soon they returned to the tiny farmhouse to find a Christmas Eve supper fit for a king. Everything from their farm, the good simple kind of food that can only come from loving experienced hands, well cared for animals, and a well manured garden.
After his last sip of coffee, and his second piece of pie the old man headed back out the door.
"Clara is supposed to calve tonight" he told his wife "be back soon.
Time went by. The old lady looked worried as she peered out the kitchen window.
"I'll go get him Momma" the young man said as he pulled on his coat.
He found the old man in a dark corner of the barn shoulder deep in an old cow who looked close to death.
His first thought was for his boys to see what was about to happen. He ran back to the house and without explanation grabbed the young boys and all but dragged them out to the old barn. They found the old man still struggling to untangle the calf inside while the cow bawled faintly in the deep straw.
"That's disgusting"
"What is he doing"
"Hush and watch"
Finally the old man managed to free both back legs. Recognizing the urgency of the situation the younger man jumped the gate to help his already tired father. Together they freed the huge bull calf from its mother. Decades of experience kicked in, the old man did what he'd done a thousand times before. Once the calf coughed to life and began to wiggle its slimy ears he pulled it around for the cow to clean off. However she was to far gone.
"Sit down Dad. I will clean it up"
Using the straw, then warm towels, soon the calf was trying to stand.
The young boys were amazed by what they had just witnessed. A thousand questions ran through their heads, but they couldn't find the words to ask them.
Frozen colostrum saved for just such an occasion and shortly the new calf was on its feet.
The old man hadn't said anything for a couple hours. As he took out an old pistol wrapped in oiled rags from a cabinet he asked his son if he wanted to take the kids outside.
"No they've seen birth they need to see the rest"
"This part ain't as pretty" said the old man as he rubbed the words "Vietnam 68-69" crudely scratched into the pistol.
The younger boy began to cry asking what Papaw was going to do.
He held his children close as the old man cocked the pistol. He lovingly stroked the old cows head then put her down.
The shot rang threw the old barn every animal jumped. The younger boy ran back to the house. Having heard the gunshot the old woman about knew what had happened.
As everyone quietly came back in the house the old woman whispered to her son "Clara was born the day your brother went to Iraq"
This was a special cow to the old man. He sat quietly in his chair by the wood stove. Tears periodically rolling down his sun aged face, disappearing into his white beard.
As everyone quietly came back in the house the old woman whispered to her son "Clara was born the day your brother went to Iraq"
This was a special cow to the old man. He sat quietly in his chair by the wood stove. Tears periodically rolling down his sun aged face, disappearing into his white beard.
Suddenly he wiped his face before he thought anyone would notice. "Well its Christmas now" he sorrowfully said "Sorry I ruined it for everyone".
Before anyone could protest he pulled out his seed bag.
"Maybe I can make it a little better".
For each of the boys he presented a plain black Bible with their name inscribed on it, and a new case pocket knife.
"You boys have seen some of the best, and some of the worst parts of life tonight" the old man's voice broke as he began to speak. "Now you have the two best tools I can give you to deal with it".
- treefarmer
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Re: The old farmer
Mr. Watch, my wife showed that to me a week or so ago and it really has some truth in it! Some folks probably don't have the upbringing to understand the depth of the story, not their fault.
Thanks for posting this meaninful post.
Treefarmer
Thanks for posting this meaninful post.
Treefarmer
A GUN IN THE HAND IS BETTER THAN A COP ON THE PHONE.
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Re: The old farmer
Love the Story
- Paladin
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Re: The old farmer
Thank for posting this one. Near brought me to tears. Anyone who has ever put an animal down, pet or such, can identify.
Ray
Ray
Paladin
God Bless the USA
Please visit my store SWEETWATER KNIVES
"Buy more ammo" - Johnnie Fain
"I'm glad I ain't scared to be lazy." Augustus McCrae
God Bless the USA
Please visit my store SWEETWATER KNIVES
"Buy more ammo" - Johnnie Fain
"I'm glad I ain't scared to be lazy." Augustus McCrae
Re: The old farmer
Thank you.
David L Roberts, United States Navy Retired
Please visit my website: Woodburning Art by David at
https://www.wdbydavid.com/
Please visit my website: Woodburning Art by David at
https://www.wdbydavid.com/
Re: The old farmer
Thank you for posting this Mr. Watch. It reminds me a lot of my early years.---Ricky
Re: The old farmer
Now you’ve done it, I can’t hardly see my phone now.
I know exactly how the old man felt. And what a fantastic ending too. Great story.
I know exactly how the old man felt. And what a fantastic ending too. Great story.
“There are things in the old Book which I may not be able to explain, but I fully accept it as the infallible word of God, and receive its teachings as inspired by the Holy Spirit.”
Robert E. Lee
Robert E. Lee
- Mumbleypeg
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Re: The old farmer
I enjoyed that story mrwatch, nearly brought me to tears.
Ken
Ken
Member AKTI, TSRA, NRA.
If your religion requires that you hate someone, you need a new religion.
When the people fear their government, that is tyranny. When government fears the people, that is freedom.
https://www.akti.org/
If your religion requires that you hate someone, you need a new religion.
When the people fear their government, that is tyranny. When government fears the people, that is freedom.
https://www.akti.org/
Re: The old farmer
Saw this online a few days ago. So many lessons in that short story.
A good knife and a bible .... we should all pass along such simple wisdom.
A good knife and a bible .... we should all pass along such simple wisdom.
Chris
i woke last night to the sound of thunder
how far off i sat and wondered
started humming a song from nineteen sixty two
aint it funny how the night moves
i woke last night to the sound of thunder
how far off i sat and wondered
started humming a song from nineteen sixty two
aint it funny how the night moves