In the Afternoon's Light

In the Afternoon’s Light

By John W. Vander Velden

Carl stood in the late afternoon light.  His eyes scanned the open land that lay before him.  Not long ago he would feel walled in, surrounded by countless rows of tall corn.  All that remained, crumpled stalks and chaff, the harvest complete.  Shading his eyes he could see his neighbor’s farmstead, certain the friend that lived there felt much the same.  It seemed that at last he could breathe, that a great weight had been lifted from his weary shoulders.  Now Carl considered the year…not the time from January till…but a time from first tillage until this very moment.  Of early mornings risings.  Of work ending beneath stars.  Of unpredictable rains and days beneath sweltering sun.  Of battles with weeds and disease.  Of days lost to broken equipment…time unreplacable.  But that did not matter…not now.  Grain safely in the bin, the harvest completed…another year finished. 

Forty-four years and each different…forty-four plantings…forty-four harvests, how things had changed!  And yet in the afternoon’s light he saw the things that remained constant.  A farmer, the son of a farmer, the grandson of a farmer.  If someone would prick him…examine the blood that flowed…very closely…surely they would find soil.  For after all these years…all these generations there had to be dirt in his blood.  There could be no other reason a man would face all nature would cast his way year after year …to fight day in and day out from dawn to dusk…clawing onward to another harvest.  The completed task proving once again, Carl the victor.  A smile touched his lips.  “This has been a good year,” he said softly, “ ‘Spect next year will be too.” Whistling Carl turned, a grateful, content man in the afternoon’s light

(292 Words) 

Gratitude

Gratitude                

By John W. Vander Velden

Thursday is one of the big holidays, Thanksgiving.  For most it will mean too much food, watching football, and perhaps a day or two off.  There is nothing wrong with time spent with family and friends.  Nothing wrong with having a special meal.  Nothing wrong with watching the game.  And certainly nothing wrong with about having a deserved day off.  But hopefully that is not where the holiday ends. 

Our society seems most focused on all we have not achieved or accumulated.  The ads aim to entice us, to yearn for the brightest, newest.  Certainly the things that fill our lives are insufficient.  It is our nature to desire those things just beyond our reach. In many ways that desire drives us to work harder, and with hard work we may improve ourselves.  But we must take care that we do not become a society of malcontents, never satisfied, certain we have not received our fair share, or dwelling upon the past and what seemed better days.  Look around…take stock…realize all that makes up your life.  Surely we are surrounded by so much for which to be grateful.  Should we not take quiet moments to reflect…to be grateful for all the blessings of our lives, counting our blessings and among them…love and family…things that money can not purchase. 

One day a year is too seldom to consider the good things in our lives, but perhaps Thanksgiving allows a chance to build a grateful heart…and a grateful heart is open to the needs of others.  Too often the suffering masses of our planet find themselves ignored; rarely does their plight penetrate our busy lives.  Surely the homeless and hungry should not be forgotten or ignored.  As we open our hearts to others in their need, our perspective changes.  We come to better appreciate all we have and find a willingness to share with the less fortunate.  Is that not what Thanksgiving really means…to be grateful and to care.

So on that day of food and football, we should take time to quietly reflect...to be grateful… grateful for all the blessing of our lives. And for those of us of faith, let us take time to earnestly thank the Master of the Universe for all good things.

May you have a happy Thanksgiving and a heart filled with gratitude…

(393Words)

                      

 

In the Dark

In the Dark

By John W. Vander Velden

He walks quietly in the dark, moving about his living room during the small hours. He is not alone.  For a small bundle within his arms, a newborn, causes the sleeplessness…the pacing…the rocking…but no regrets.  A price gladly paid.  The hours his shift, as at last his beloved has gone to her rest.  Eyes centered upon the infant, even in the darkened room enough visible to bring a smile.  He understands fatigue a temporary problem, soon, perhaps too soon, these hours only a memory.  With practiced slow sways a child quiet yet not asleep the task not complete…not yet.  He considers the small wonder as he moves among the shadows, how lives forever changed.  New responsibilities…new perspectives…changed dreams…immeasurable joy.  Humming softly as swaying he settles into a chair…soft breathing…tiny heartbeat…fills his attention...at that moment there is nothing more.  What has this bundle done to cause such devotion?  Only a parent understands.  Love a commodity un-purchasable, a binding stronger than steel or blood, for the man in the dark, a cord unbreakable.  Blinking sleepy eyes and a stifled yawn, well rehearsed his actions, as strong arms tenderly hold the child most fragile.  Later, how much he is uncertain, the small one asleep, yet he refuses to surrender.  With foggy mind and content heart he remains…just a little while longer…in the dark.  

(232 Words)