Lee

Lee

 

By John W. Vander Velden

 

Lee watched the cornstalks driven to their final dance by the combine.  The stripped ears carried swiftly up and into the machine.  The low sun reminded of the hours spent and the hours that this day yet holds.  Brilliant work lights would illuminate after the sky filled with stars.  Stars he would not notice for his eyes would remain fixed upon the rows ahead, their brown golden leaves, fluttering pennants in the evening wind, until the snapping rolls tear and crump.  The late autumn air fills his nostrils as his senses searched any

scent of burning belts, oil fumes, or overheated diesel.  He listens to the droning familiar music of the big yellow machine doing his best to pick up any unique squeaks or clatters within the mind-numbing crescendo.  Lee doesn’t count the hours, those completed or those ahead.  He counts the acres.  Acres are his yardstick, and bushels.  Bushels equal dollars…sorta’.  There are bill to pay and plans to make for next year.  Lee tries not to think about how he will pay for next year’s crop, but those thoughts creeps into his mind nearly every day.  Time now to remain focused upon the task at hand.  The years

work and worry is coming to fruition.  The grain that fills his hopper a sign of the hours of sweat and labor, of the months of planning, and sleepless nights.  Even now the fear of “losing it all” crowds inside the cab.  For observes might wonder why Lee would gamble, health and fortune on something as tenuous as farming.  But even among his fears this farmer does not consider it purely a gamble.  Yes, he understands the risk, sees it each day, but believes that hard work and determination mixed with a bit of skill will see him and his family through…again.  Some years have been lean…but others have been better.  It’s the life he lives, and figures that it’s the life that had chosen him.  So he lives it.  But the day is ending…or at least the sky’s light grows dim.  Lee is content, as content as he ever is, that he has accomplished something.  Maybe less than he had hoped when he tied his boots this morning, but acres have fallen and the end is a bit nearer.  Yeah, it’s been a good day… 

 

(388 Words)  11-29-2016

Ordinary

Ordinary                         

By John W. Vander Velden

 

I believe in the uniqueness of each person.  That everyone has special talents, gifts if you will, that make them special.  It is these things which make every human stand out in one way or the other.  Yet for most of us it goes unnoticed.  Even so I believe that the spark of the Creator lives within us all, and that makes people, extraordinary.  I try to take the time to see the special abilities in those that surround.  My mother’s needle work, for instance.  She never considered herself anything but ordinary, yet possessed so many talents she did not notice.  Her garden, and all the things she did around the home, signs of another special individual.  But she is only a singular example of the countless people I have encountered with an endless variety of talents, my sister the artist, another that makes plants become so much more, a brother that always finds ways to be helpful, and so on.  The world around is filled with people, each one extraordinary.

So why do I consider myself ordinary.  Perhaps in seeing the abilities that surround, I consider my meager contributions common.  That I think if I can do something…anyone could…nothing special here.  But there is an inconsistency.  Or is there?  If the world is filled with unique individuals then the vast range of “uniqueness” becomes ordinary.  The common factor here is that no two people are identical…well twins almost…but the rest of us, not so much.  So what I see in myself as a common ability, others might recognize as a remarkable talent. 

Talents and humility, can they coexist?  I believe they can.  That by recognizing the special spark in others helps us to keep our hat size from growing.  To understand that the ordinary are not ordinary at all…helps us to see that we are only ordinary…and that is amazing.

I believe, as Mr. Rodgers used to say, that you are special…but you are also ordinary.  I believe I am ordinary…and that makes me special as well!

(345 Words)                11-6-2015