Jim Fisher has been quoted as saying:
“Not a moment of life is wasted on a farm. Others have been more places but none have out lived me.”
Recently one of the government employees in charge of Ozzie’s care and well-being asked us to justify our life style choice and explain why we felt growing up in the country was the best life choice for Ozzie. The words were spoken with obvious disdain by someone who was more familiar and comfortable with city life than life on a farm. It saddens me when people, who have little understanding of our lifestyle, pass judgment on it. Whether we are addressing the fact that we home school, have adopted, live without cable, raise animals, don’t buy our children cell phones, or expect our children to participate in the well-being of our family unit through daily chores; there are always some that express the feelings that we are somehow doing our children a disservice by not buying into the world’s definition of what a happy childhood looks like.
We have chosen to take the road less traveled.
It has been expressed by others that our lifestyle choice is a selfish one, and that our children are missing out…on what, I’m not sure…but here are some of the great blessings that have come from this life we have been blessed with…
My children have known the joy of holding a baby animal, just minutes old, as well as the profound experience of holding an animal as it takes its last breath.
My children have come to understand that their food doesn’t just come from a supermarket shelf but from the sweat and labor of hard work.
My children have felt the earth between their toes and dirt beneath their nails as they have planted seeds in the ground.
They have experienced the faith of waiting on a seed to sprout and the labor of caring for and reaping the benefits of a garden.
My children have created life long, belly-laugh memories as they have chased goats off the roof and pigs off the highway.
My children have eaten eggs, hours old, and fudge made from the goat’s milk they collected themselves.
My children have experienced the childhood magic of laying under the stars, building tree houses, splashing in creeks, and catching frogs.
They have learned the lessons of hard work and diligence. They have split wood, stacked logs and raked hay.
My children have chores.
They wash clothes, cook meals, tend animals, and clean up their messes. We don’t give our children chores because we hate them or because we are too lazy to do it ourselves. We give our children chores so that they can experience the satisfaction of a job well done.
My children have been told “No” and have experienced the disappointment of not getting what they want…not because we love to disappoint them but because we are training them to be grateful rather than entitled.
My children have learned, through opportunities to serve, that the greatest joy in life comes from thinking of others before yourself.
My home is not perfect. It is often dirty, noisy, and smells of animals.
My children, also, are often dirty, noisy and smell of animals. 🙂
But, they are happy
and they are kind.
My life is not perfect or pristine. Perhaps in the eyes of the world this life I choose to live is less than ideal,
but I have seen great blessings come from this life I have chosen and this life we have chosen to give our children.
Molly and Pop pop
On Saturday we went to visit our second favorite farm, The Homestead. We traveled out to Ohio to spend the day with my parents and celebrate a belated Mother’s Day with my mom. It was a picture perfect day. The sun was shining and the temperature was ideal. When we arrived the kids headed to the barn right away to see the animals. Ozzie was eager to say hello to George, the donkey, and the other kids couldn’t wait to hold the two chicks that had just hatched.
George and Grace
After some fun on the farm we all hopped in the car and drove over to one of our favorite places in Amish Country…
Hershberger’s Farm and Bakery.
It is a neat Amish store that sells local wares, homemade baked goods, as well as farm animals. When you pull up the first thing you see are goats on the barn roof. (Unlike our goats, they are supposed to be there.) There is a set of stairs for them to climb up on. A pulley system is set up so that you can buy ice cream cones full of feed and send them up onto the roof. Inside the barn there are animals to pet and buy. There are goats, chickens, pigs, sheep, rabbits, ducks and puppies. We enjoy visiting Hershberger’s any time of the year but it is especially fun in the spring with all of the baby animals.
Tyler and a baby lamb.
Rusty and a baby goat
One of the most impressive animals at Hershberger’s Farm is Big Ben, the huge Belgian horse that lives there. He is the biggest horse in Holmes County. He measures 19H 3″ tall and 3,006 lb. He is quite the site to see!
After having our fill of baby animal snuggles we headed next door to the bakery to enjoy a Holmes County delicacy- fry pies. Fry pies are pockets of delicious goodness: a fried, glazed pastry filled with various pie fillings. My parents treated us all to one. The kids had fun choosing their flavor and then tasting each other’s choices. We sat in the shade visiting and watching two baby horses play in the field across the street while we enjoyed our treat.
We spent the remainder of our day together enjoying fried chicken for lunch, playing games in the yard, and catching up. It was a wonderful day.
Perhaps one of the greatest occupational hazards of being human is our propensity to judge each other’s life choices.
Bottle feed or Breast feed
Public school or Home school
City life or Country life
Big family or Small Family
College education or Learn a trade
Working mom or Stay-at-home mom
Whatever the issue, whatever the choice, there seems to be a passionate defense launched by both sides.
I suppose the lesson in all of this is that…
“Sometimes the people around you won’t understand your journey
but that is OK,
it’s not their journey to understand.”
“Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.”
– Robert Frost