How farming life, my parents grounded me

I am human; I make mistakes; I hope to learn from them. Last month, some readers questioned my accuracy. I was embarrassed but also pleased — people were reading my column and knew grammar and history. While I did not submit the title, I acknowledge that American’s should have been Americans (plural, not possessive). Historically, the Declaration of Independence was ratified on July 4, 1776, and Alaska and Hawaii were added to the Union in 1959. I am sorry for the inaccurate statements. I intend to use a larger font when proofreading — first lesson learned.

As I reflected on those errors, I found myself reflecting on what really matters in life. In reality, the errors are quite inconsequential. The impact of July, however, defines me.

I treasure three events in July more than July 4, 1776. Both parents were born in July; they were married in July. From them, I learned the value of God, family and country. Just as important as the gift of life, they gifted me with a moral foundation.

After the noon meal, we often listened to the golden tones of Paul Harvey and his iconic “the rest of the story.” I learned a lot from those stories and want to share one of Mr. Harvey’s tales that is personal.

As I searched for the classic tale, I discovered a sequel. I share reflections generated by both. In 1978, Paul Harvey spoke to a convention of Future Farmers of America and entitled his story “So God Made a Farmer.” Sierra Shea followed that with a sequel, “So God Made a Farmer’s Wife.”

While both follow the theme of Creation from Genesis, both are fictional and not scriptural. However, the qualities attributed to rural life accurately portray the culture in which I was reared.

Farmers did not work a 40-hour week. Dad was up before dawn to milk the cows, feed the hogs, cultivate the crops, eat his main meal at noon, listen to the radio, take a 15-minute nap, return to the fields, eat a light meal with the family, milk the cows again and hopefully converse with the family before retiring for a few hours of sleep. The work changed with the seasons, but the schedule was consistent. The routine was arduous, but he loved his work.

With neither the internet nor a team of experts, he was the mechanic to keep the machinery functioning, often engineering the repair parts on the spot from the materials on-site. He was strong enough to wrestle the livestock, throw haybales, and lift equipment from the mud. At the same time, he was gentle with kids, newborn animals and his neighbors and family, even sharing meals and work while going without himself.

As Paul Harvey said, on Sundays Dad drove the family five miles to church. He acknowledged that the year’s income for the family, as well as the money for the next year’s seed, depended on God’s gifts of sunshine and rain. His weather predictions from studying the winds and the clouds were more accurate than the forecasts from the radio.

Farmers, like Dad, also served their communities as active participants in community organizations. They were grassroot servant leaders, not activists, to foster growth in their small communities.

Besides rearing the children, preparing meals, cleaning the house, doing laundry, sewing and repairing clothing, gardening and paying the bills, Mother identified herself always as Dad’s partner in farming. She helped with planting, haying and harvesting. In her spare time (seriously?), Mother was also a hostess, church volunteer and a community leader with youth groups.

Prior to child labor laws, farm youth shared the work and learned the value of combining brawn and brain to complete a task, and more importantly, the importance of contributing to the well-being of the family. Children helped the family as needed and able, including driving tractor and doing “chores.”

Since the workdays were long for the entire family, there was little focus on clubs, sports or electronics. In retrospect, the skills learned from Dad and Mother grounded us better for life. Honesty and integrity/responsibility and accountability/kindness and respect were foundational lessons from home.

The rural life did not engender immediate gratifications for teenagers, but those teenagers later realized the fundamental worth of grounding in family and honest labor.

As I reflect on my life, I weigh the standards modeled by my parents:

· Both shared the responsibilities of farmwork — caring for God’s creation to provide for the family and to grow food for others.

· Both demonstrated the ability to be both strong and gentle and to place the needs of others ahead of self.

· Both taught their daughters and grandchildren to be good stewards of nature and resources.

· Both advocated academic and experiential learning.

With my parents, honesty was the only option. Honesty defined the person. My dad saw no need for a written contract. With a handshake, one gave his/her word.

Mr. Harvey and Ms. Shea are more eloquent with their stories. Enjoy: https://www.americanrhetoric.com/speeches/paulharveysogodmadeafarmer.htm and https://sierrashea.com/farmerswifepoem/

Then, please, pause and reflect on your own identity and values.

This is the opinion of Times Writers Group member Phyllis E. VanBuren, a lifelong learner and enthusiastic educator, who values family, friends, faith, honesty, liberty and integrity. Her column is published the fourth Sunday of the month.

This article originally appeared on St. Cloud Times: The skills learned from my parents grounded us for life