Farm’s eternal footprint
Memories held tight
From each generation
Nurturing what’s right
Kitchen table’s witness
Writes each diary page
Chronicles history
Filling life’s rain gauge
Precious hope’s future link
Tough times overcome
History comes alive
Leaving each bread crumb
Confidence builds each spring
Another crop sown
Expected fall harvest
Paying back bank loan
Farmer’s faithful outlook
Every season’s birth
Tomorrow remains bright
Blessing Mother Earth
The tomato is native to the Americas. The ancient Aztecs and Incas cultivate and harvest them over 1,300 years ago. These wild tomatoes carry a strong smell and acidic taste. They are small with a nearly hollow inside.
The Spanish bring tomato seeds back to Europe. Spain, Italy, and other Mediterranean neighbors enjoy them. Because of its supposed special powers, the French call the tomato “The Apple of Love.” The English believe they are poisonous. English colonists who sail to North America bring this myth with them.
In 1870, an American farmer cultivates and methodically develops the first commercially successful tomato variety in the United States. Alexander W. Livingston (1821-1898) owns and manages the Buckeye Farm near Reynoldsburg, Ohio. He transforms an ugly duckling of horticulture into the prized tomato that the world knows today.
Beginning with his first tomato, the Paragon, Livingston continues to experiment with the development of more than 30 varieties. By 1910, half of the tomatoes grown in the United States trace their lineage back to Livingston’s seed company. Some of Livingston’s early varieties include Acme, Beauty, Buckeye State, Dwarf Stone, Golden Queen, and Perfection.
One of Livingston’s most memorable accounts comes when he is ten years old. He discovers a small garden with tomatoes near his home. Here are his words:
“. . . quickly gathered a few of them in my hands, and took them to my mother to ask, ‘What they were?’ As soon as she saw them, she cried out, ‘You must not eat them my child. They must be poison, for even the hogs will not eat them.’”
In 1965, the Franklin County Historical Society recognizes Reynoldsburg as “The Home of the Tomato.” An annual Tomato Festival starts up in 1966, and it continues to this very day. Scheduled in early August, the festival offers tasty food, live entertainment, and wholesome family fun. A Car & Bike Show features classic cars and motorcycles.
Mountain’s deep snowpack
Creeks feeding mighty rivers—
Living waters flow
Gathering each day
Birds’ welcoming harmony—
Perfection in song
Field planting finished
Another day filled with rain—
Farmers celebrate
Summer sunrise lights up the vast Montana prairie
Fields of grain smelling like sweetest confectionery
Farmers and ranchers always start up their days early
Full and hearty breakfast, making any man feel burly
This morning’s itinerary calls for baling hay
Alfalfa windrows cannot wait around all day
With tractor pulling an old baler, creating perfect bales
Gentle morning breeze fills out the air like a ship’s sails
Midday arrives, there’s time for a quick, tasty bite
Wife packs dinner with her usual special delights
Afternoon heat and wind suspend all baling for now
Starting up the swather, cutting hay as time allows
Thinking about next week, wheat looking to ripen by then
Combine stands ready and dependable, just like Big Ben
About an hour before sundown, pick-up truck returns home
Just enough daylight to check a few cows where they roam
Supper bell will be ringing soon, so need to finish now
Washing up, sitting down with wife, enjoy hearty chow
Praying together, evening transcends with the setting sun
Thankful for the Lord’s help with another day’s work done
Originally published August, 2020.
Dry, parched farmland stretches for endless miles. Tender wheat sprouts are beginning to wither under early June’s hottest sun. Will rain arrive in time to save this year’s crop?
At the intersection of two country roads sits a small, wood-framed church. The location is called Fertile Prairie, which seems appropriate with the scattered farms up and down either road.
Today the church gathers farmers and their families. They have been assembling daily to join as one voice in prayer. Their petitions focus on God’s faithfulness. According to His plans, in time He will release nature’s rain-filled drink for their wilting fields.
While prayers continue to be lifted from the inside of the church, dark clouds are filling the outside sky. Will they finally bring the Lord’s blessed rain?
At first, a few drops find the parched ground. More follow in unison until a steady, grace-filled rain is watering the fields.
Outside the church stands six-year old Tommy. He has been waiting outside and smiling at the darkening clouds. His young heart feels joy as the rain begins to nourish the land.
Inside the church, the assembly hears the falling rain. They gather at the door to look out. Smiles, filled with hope, share praises to the Lord.
They realize that Tommy is standing under an umbrella. He is the only person who brought an umbrella. This young boy has never wavered in his own faithfulness.
Tommy’s mother asks him, “What on earth caused you to bring an umbrella today?”
Tommy confidently replies, “Last night during my prayers, God reminded me to bring an umbrella. Never doubting, I made sure that I brought one today.”
Throughout much of my teaching career in Montana, I personally witnessed the labors and hard work of farmers and ranchers on the eastern plains. Their faithful perseverance will always be a testament of their faith in a God who will see us through.
The labors of a family wait for another harvest. Fields of spring wheat are maturing rapidly under the blistering hot, August sun. The heads of grain are filling out and turning harvest gold.
A year’s worth of income rests in these fields. Three generations view God’s bounty with praise and thanksgiving.
An aging grandfather has witnessed the good times and bad. While he has slowed down a bit, he still looks forward to operating the combine at harvest time. He becomes as excited as a young boy while watching the header cut the ripened grain.
His son, now a mature and tested father, has followed in his footsteps. He returned to the farm ten years ago when his father suffered a heart attack. He manages the day-to-day operations as skillfully as his father ever did.
A teenage boy, both grandson and son, has observed his father’s long hours and hard work. He values his grandfather’s wisdom and experience. He plans to attend the state’s land grant university during the upcoming fall semester, but first he needs to help out with harvest.
One evening, with harvest set to begin soon, these three generations of men view a field closest to their homes. The grain is heavy, filled with high protein content, and will fetch an honest price at market.
Dark clouds loom to the northwest as a storm appears heading away from their farm. The three men turn in for the night, feeling confident and safe.
The next morning, the sun comes up right on schedule, but this season’s harvest has been cruelly cancelled.
Overnight the storm changed its route. Heavy rain, strong winds, and large hail shredded every bit of grain far and wide. Not even a cow would be able to find any nourishment.
The grandson has never seen such devastation, and he is emotionally numb and filled with shock.
His father knows the coming year will be filled with hardship and uncertainty. With God’s guidance, somehow he will carefully balance the books.
The grandfather prays to God, asking the Lord to provide for the family as He always has—in the best of times, and now the darkest. He opens his Bible and reads the following verse from Isaiah 40:10:
“Do not fear, for I am with you, do not be afraid, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my victorious right hand.”
Drought hardens fertile land
Faithfully sowing seeds
Reaching out to God’s hand
Praying for farmers’ needs
Weather forecasts no rain
Boldness in faith remains
Praying for crops of grain
Holding tight to God’s reins
Clouds covering high plains
Showers dancing away
Leaving tears, without rain
Filling hours with prayer
Faith shall never waver
Perseverance, God’s domain
Seeking His good favor
Waiting out this campaign
Steadfast prayers prevail
Bountiful, earthly grace
Sharing rain without fail
Bringing smiles to each face
Retreating from urban scene
Tasting sweetest land of peace
Montana’s scenic prairie
Rejuvenating new lease
Returning home at long last
Embracing much simpler ways
Montana’s dry farming life
Waking to morning’s fresh praise
Laboring in nature’s soil
Farming begins at sunrise
Montana’s fields now planted
Waiting for harvest’s lush prize
Walking in tall grass so green
Unearthing life’s inner core
Montana’s rural anthem
Fielding life’s daily chores
Photo by Fabiano Rodrigues on Pexels.com
What is so special about simple rain?
Have you truly witnessed God’s gift of rain?
Everywhere, anticipation of rain
Withering crops crave God’s rainfall today
Farmers wait faithfully for rains to come
Without rain, hearts and plants start to decay
The farmland depends on these vital rains
Last year, little rain arrives to help out
Sunny skies chase away clouds too often
“Next year” cries out from thirsty lands of drought
Farmers sow their spring crops on faith alone
Waiting for nature to moisten the ground
Praying to the Lord, asking for His rain
Rain arrives, new life rising skyward bound
God sends righteousness, in the form of rain
Fulfilling prayers, easing farmers’ pain
From Isaiah 45:8: “Shower, O heavens, from above, and let the skies rain down righteousness; let the earth open, that salvation may spring up, and let it cause righteousness to sprout up also; I the Lord have created it.”
Photo by freestocks.org on Pexels.com
Bill runs into his neighbor Fred at the local feed store. In conversation, Bill tells Fred, “I noticed that there back tire on yer truck is a mite bit low on tread.”
Fred replies back, “Ah, dat there tire has quite a few miles left da go.”
The men depart and finish up their business in town before heading back home. As Bill drives down the road, he comes upon Fred’s truck, rolled over on its side, off of the road.
Bills stops and surveys the situation. Fred appears okay, much of his cattle feed is scattered on the ground, and the suspected tire has blown nearly clean off of the rim.
Bill calmly asks Fred what has happened. With eyes growing bigger by the second, Fred excitedly tells him, “A vig jack rabbit nearly ran me self off this here road. Look vat he did to ma perfectly good tire.”
Big Sky Buckeye 