Farm Living | Previous Challenge Entry

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TITLE: Farm Living | Previous Challenge Entry
By Marilyn Meiners
03/08/21
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As a teenager growing up in Illinois I had a list of what I expected in my future husband. He would be someone who;

Did not smoke.
Did not drink alcohol.
Went to church.
He must not be a farmer!

There was nothing wrong with a farmer, or farm living. It just wasn’t for me. I was a City girl. I grew up in the City. I would remain a City girl. Never farm life for me.

I had dated a number of boys throughout my teenage years but never fell in love until I was introduced (on a blind date) to Paul. People say there is no such thing as ‘love at first sight’. I beg to disagree. I immediately fell in love with Paul. Several weeks into our relationship I learned that he was - you guessed it - a farm boy. By then I was in love with this boy. I would eventually deal with the farmer part.

A year later we married. Guess what I discovered? I actually loved farm living. I loved driving the tractor on a hot summer day as my husband and I baled hay together. We milked cows, gathered eggs, sat on the porch swing together in the evening. As the song from Green Acres goes, “Farm living is the life for me!” And it was.

God blessed us with a son, and this little guy made life complete. He would go everywhere we went. He too loved every part of farm living, especially all the exploring little boys enjoyed doing. Of course, he could also get himself into a lot of trouble if we didn’t keep an eye on him.

This particular morning I was hanging up my washed laundry on an outdoor clothesline. Darrell was playing in the yard with our Chihuahua Mindy. As I pinned the last article of clothing to the line then picked up my laundry basket, I looked around for Darrell.

He was gone.

Disappeared.

Where had he escaped to? I went into panic mode. You do not let a little boy of three disappear on a farm. He was playing one moment, and gone the next.

I screamed his name.

There was no answer.

My heart started pounding overtime. What had happened to my little boy?

“Lord,” I cried. “You know where he is. Please help me find him.”

Suddenly my eye caught Mindy standing in the doorway of the hen house.   “Where there is a dog, you might find a boy” I thought.

I walked over to the hen house, peeked inside, and let out a horrified “No!”

Darrell was having the time of his life waving his little arms and watching all the chickens go into panic mode. Not one of them was sitting on their nest. All were flapping their wings, squawking at a terrified level, feathers flying all over the place.

There in the middle of all of this stood a tiny, three-year old boy laughing hysterically. Well, his fun was about to end. I picked that boy up, carried him outside, and gave him a good talking to. Mindy stood beside him absorbing my ranting, with her tail between her legs. Guess she knew she was in trouble too.

We all learned some lessons that day. Although I gave my son the freedom to play and explore I needed to keep my eye on him at all times, especially since he was so little. Boys can be faster than an escape artist. They love to see what the world has to offer, and a hen house looked like the best place to make that discovery.

Darrell learned there are some places you can and cannot go. A hen house was the domain of chickens and needed to be treated with respect and gentleness. One did not go to their home uninvited, and one did not go to their home to cause a ruckus. Neither did one take a dog on this neighborly visit. He and dogs belonged outside the hen house, never inside (unless he was with mom).

I had some advice for Mindy. I encouraged her to keep staying close to her little master Darrell. I realized the depth of her love for this boy. She would protect and guard him to the extent her small size would allow her to.

The hens? They didn’t lay any eggs for 48 hours!

I cannot protect my son at all times, however, “When I am afraid, I put my trust in God.”

story is non-fiction
Scripture from Psalm 56:3 NLT

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