In the life of a family there is many fun times. We probably had more than our share but also the usual amount of hardships and grief that goes with everyday life. It was one of those times the day Mike fell down the hay hole in my Dad's loafing shed. For those not familiar with the term, attached to the dairy barn was a big open barn that the milk cows could go into on cold winter nights.
I remember as a young girl growing up that we also had calf stalls in part of the loafing shed. The manure would continue to get deeper and deeper as winter continued its long journey to spring. In the spring the stalls would be cleaned by hand and hard work but the rest of the barn would be cleaned out with the tractor and loader. The manure spreaders would make trip after trip to the fields with the accumulated manure mixed with straw that was used for bedding.
The fields would be fertilized by the use of the manure and bedding mixture. For those of you who like your food grown without use of chemical fertilizers there it is. As natural as it gets.
As one drove in the spring with their windows rolled down (cars didn't have air conditioning)the rich smell of naturally fertilized fields would fill their acute sense of smell. It was not a bad smell to me. I guess I was accustomed to the smell of manure. It smelled like spring to me and the promise of the new growing season.
Soon the smell of manure would turn into the smell of new mown hay. If you ride through the country in hay cutting season the air around you will be filled with the sweet smell of newly cut hay. It is a scent that can't be reproduced by all the candle makers or the air fresheners in the world.
The barren ground would soon be springing to life with the fresh green sprouts of corn stalks sticking their heads up from the soil as they seemed to be testing the weather to decide whether to pop up or stay put. Of course with the laws of nature, they had no choice. They popped through the soil and started to grow as if they already knew they only had a short time to reproduce. Of course, with the way God created the plants they do know without knowing they only have a short time.
My cousin once said that on a hot summer night you could hear corn growing. I never tested that theory to see if it was fact but I liked the idea.
The newly planted gardens one would see would be springing to life as well. It was a time of planting and growing and keeping the garden free of weeds. That would soon give way to harvesting green beans and all the other produce in the garden. The kitchen would become hot and steamy with the kettles on the stove cooking the vegetable of the day. Soon jars of freshly canned vegetables would make their way to the shelves in the basement to wait for the winter months when no fresh vegetables were available. The freezer would start to fill up with corn, strawberries and peaches as well as many other fruits and vegetables. We were getting ready for winter.
Meanwhile in the fields food for the winter was being prepared for the numerous heads of livestock we had on our farm. Corn was harvested on the cob into the corn cribs for the hogs. The silos had already been filled with the whole stalk of corn to ferment for the winter into the nice smell of silage for the dairy cows. Alfalfa was cut and baled into small square bales weighing probably 80 lbs each. The barns were beginning to fill to the rafters with that sweet smelling alfalfa for the milk cows for the winter as well as for the beef cows we raised.
The barn was designed for ease of feeding. The aforementioned loafing shed had a big hay loft above it. It held thousands of those square bales of hay. It had an earthen ramp leading into the loft. The big trucks mounded with their precious cargo would back into the barn where the hay was unloaded and stacked high until no more could be stacked in the barn. Every available space had a protein rich bale of milk producing hay.
In the loft there were hay sized holes that we would carry the hay to, cut the strings and drop it into hay racks below where the cows would reach up and grab big bits of delicious forage.
My mother was sick and dying with cancer the summer of 1970. My sisters, brother and sister in law helped take care of her. The girls cleaned house, provided the meals, did laundry and kept mom clean and comfortable. Bob and my husband did the heavy lifting. We would call Bob or Bill if he was there and one of them would come in and lift our Mom for us to move her around when necessary.
Let me say this about our Mother. She was the sweetest kindest person I have ever known. She suffered but she did not complain about her suffering. Her only complaint was that she was causing us a lot of work. It was a labor of love on our part and a privilege to take care of our mother. She was a good woman and a picture of the saint waiting for the reward of heaven to come.
It was at this time that our boys learned to love the farm. We lived in the city, Jeffersonville Indiana in a house on a small lot. Although it was a big double lot it was still small to a girl that grew up on over 500 acres. We were frequently at Dad's farm caring for Mom. The boys were out with the men most of the time. They played in the hay loft, rode in the big trucks and helped in the fields where they could.
They loved going into the hay loft and helping throw hay down to the cows. They were young. Mike was 7 and Steve was barely 6 but they were big when they could help on the farm. It was in that setting that they were helping feed the cows.
My brother Bob was coming out of the dairy barn into the loafing shed ready to go to the loft to put down hay when Steve came down the stairs. Curious, Bob asked Steve where Mike was since they were always together. It was then the Steve proclaimed, "Uncle Bobby, Mike fell down the hay hole." Bob looked over to the hay racks and sure enough there was Mike setting on top of the loose hay with several startled cows wondering why he was sitting in their hay and disturbing their dinner.
There were many times we had funny stories to share after a visit to the farm. Kids can always add spice to any gathering.
The next January Bill and I fulfilled our dream of owning a farm when we bought the original farm from my Father. He and his brother had farmed together all their lives. My uncle had died a little over a year before and my Dad was ready to retire from farming. Everything had changed. In the space of nine months, he had lost his only brother and his wife. He was tired.
The next years of our children's lives were lived growing up on the farm I own .
We were feeding our cows in the field one afternoon in the spring. We were hurrying. The kids had a function at school. I saw a cow whom I had been watching for several days. I knew she was due to calve any time and that day she looked like she had calved. But we couldn't see her calf anywhere. She kept running around like she knew she was missing her calf but she didn't really know where it was. We looked and looked. She was distressed and we started to get frustrated the longer we looked.
Finally one of the boys spotted the calf in a sink hole. We walked all around that hole and didn't see it until we were right there. We had to be standing on the edge of it before we could even see it. There the little calf laid waiting patiently to be rescued. We pulled the calf out of the hole and finished feeding and got to school on time.
To me that is a picture of our lives at times. We unexpectedly fall through the hay hole or into a sink hole. Little by little we have positioned ourselves closer and closer to an unseen hole and we fall into it. What we do in those times tell the story of where are hearts are and where we go for rescue. Actually it is not the going, it is the waiting for the rescue. It is in those time we learn some of the most valuable lessons in our lives. The waiting patiently for God to rescue us. We stumble and we fall. Despite our best efforts. We pray and then we wait. In God's time and in His own way He comes to our rescue. There we wait, in the hole for our deliverance. Suddenly we smell the sweet smell of his presence. A smell sweeter than the smell of new mown hay. Our hearts are souls are filled with His presence more fully than the barn filled with stored hay. Filled with His loving presence.
Filled with His love and mercy. Filled with the joy of our deliverance from all the world puts upon us. Oh we are not delivered from the cares of the world by any means. Not until that day when we see his glorious face. But we become full of his grace and knowledge that he is our deliverer and the one who carries our burdens.
May you bask in His glorious presence this Christmas season and always. The season of celebrating God coming to earth to rescue us from our sinful natures. May He keep you in His loving care and surround you and those you love with the sweetness of His presence.
And she brought forth her first born son and wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger"because there was no room for them in the inn.
Luke 2: 7
Regards and Merry Christmas
With love in Christ
Mary Lipginski
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