So God Made A Farmer?

In 1978 a radio broadcaster named Paul Harvey wrote a speech for the Future Farmers of America convention.   Recently, not many people knew this speech.  That is, until February 3, 2013 during the Dodge Ram commercial in the Super Bowl when that same speech was recited.  You may recognize it…

And on the 8th day, God looked down on his planned paradise and said, “I need a caretaker.” So God made a farmer.

God said, “I need somebody willing to get up before dawn, milk cows, work all day in the fields, milk cows again, eat supper and then go to town and stay past midnight at a meeting of the school board.” So God made a farmer.

“I need somebody with arms strong enough to rustle a calf and yet gentle enough to deliver his own grandchild. Somebody to call hogs, tame cantankerous machinery, come home hungry, have to wait lunch until his wife’s done feeding visiting ladies and tell the ladies to be sure and come back real soon — and mean it.” So God made a farmer.

God said, “I need somebody willing to sit up all night with a newborn colt. And watch it die. Then dry his eyes and say, ‘Maybe next year.’ I need somebody who can shape an ax handle from a persimmon sprout, shoe a horse with a hunk of car tire, who can make harness out of haywire, feed sacks and shoe scraps. And who, planting time and harvest season, will finish his forty-hour week by Tuesday noon, then, pain’n from ‘tractor back,’ put in another seventy-two hours.” So God made a farmer.

God had to have somebody willing to ride the ruts at double speed to get the hay in ahead of the rain clouds and yet stop in mid-field and race to help when he sees the first smoke from a neighbor’s place. So God made a farmer.

God said, “I need somebody strong enough to clear trees and heave bails, yet gentle enough to tame lambs and wean pigs and tend the pink-combed pullets, who will stop his mower for an hour to splint the broken leg of a meadow lark. It had to be somebody who’d plow deep and straight and not cut corners. Somebody to seed, weed, feed, breed and rake and disc and plow and plant and tie the fleece and strain the milk and replenish the self-feeder and finish a hard week’s work with a five-mile drive to church.

“Somebody who’d bale a family together with the soft strong bonds of sharing, who would laugh and then sigh, and then reply, with smiling eyes, when his son says he wants to spend his life ‘doing what dad does.’” So God made a farmer.”

Doesn’t it just bring tears to your eyes? Seriously, though, it really brings tears to my eyes.  Especially as a new wife of a grain farmer.  It makes me feel proud of what my husband does.

Then that feeling passes and a twinge of bitterness comes through when I remember how lonely/bored/restless etc.  I am right now since it is harvest season.  So, I think Paul Harvey forgot a section when he was reading it at the FFA convention.  Maybe someone cut him off and he wasn’t able to finish.  What do I know though, I wasn’t even a thought in someone’s head yet in 1978.  But I think it may have gone like this…

And on the 9th day, God said I need someone to watch after my farmer.  Someone to deal with the sound of the farmer’s alarm clock that will go off before dawn, probably multiple times, and then greet the farmer late at night when he comes home smelling of funk.  So God made a farmer’s wife.

I need somebody with  a heart strong enough to accept the times when the farmer will only been seen between the hours of 11 pm and 5 am, somebody who doesn’t mind when the farmer gets grumpy about having to wait to eat when he is hungry.  Somebody willing to come second to the land.  So God made a farmer’s wife….

I think you catch my drift. I like to think I am, as a farmers wife, as important as he is.  After all, when he hits the snooze on the alarm clock for the third time, it isn’t the cow coming in to wake him up, it is me.

So here it is; my blog.  My first blog, my only blog, and my place to vent, if anything.  Hopefully someone out there can understand where I am coming from.

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One thought on “So God Made A Farmer?

  1. I feel your pain and definitely think that your version of that poem is much more fitting! My husband hits snooze about 6 times before I make him get up. It’s a life I wouldn’t trade but I do resent it sometimes! :)

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