To Walk Together

To Walk Together         

By John W. Vander Velden

A person does not know the “metal” that makes them, until life demands its proving.  My heart aches for a friend, whose “metal” has been tested over and over again.  When a beloved becomes ill, and the illness severe, actions show strength and strain.  Long hours can become endless days, and endless days can drag on to months, even years.  But real love will not abandon.  Real love bears the burden.  Real love is the walk together, on the hard trails, as well as the easy.  Some face the ultimate challenge, when an ending grows near, confident that the passing does not mark the ceasing but rather a change.  Yet even with that confidence, the pain grows.  For though we understand that it is a walk to the door, a portal to grand newness, to a place where pain and suffering does not exist, it is the door that separates, for one crosses and the other remains behind.  The truest love is shown when two choose, on that difficult journey, to walk together. 

(173 Words)    3-10-2015

So...What Do You See...?

So… What Do You See…?

By John W. Vander Velden

 

So, what do you see when you look at the flag.  What are your thoughts today or when you hear the National Anthem.  Each of us carry our own ideas, see values from a perspective we share with no other.  The Stars and Stripes speak to me of all that have stood before.  Imperfect men and women reaching toward a perfect dream.  I tear at the words of the "Star Spangled Banner", remembering my parents, living in an occupied land.  They gave up nearly all they had to come to this country.  A land that adopted them in search of a dream.  A land that gave opportunity, a place they filled those dreams.  Did those successes come easy?  No.  Did their rise on sucess' ladder come quickly? Again the answer is no.   Nearly forty years of struggle and sacrifice.  Nearly forty years of heartbreak and disappointment.  Time and again they stood at the brink of losing it all, but they believed in the possibility...they believed in the country that had taken them in...they believed in the national dream.

So, what do you see, when “Old Glory” flies above?  What does its stripes and stars mean to you?  Can you see the millions of faces of every color that stand side by side?  Unique individuals that share a common thread…for they are Americans.  What do you feel when you hear “The Star Spangled Banner”?  Surely you have not forgotten the countless that have bled and died for our freedoms.  All that placed their everything upon the table for a dream they understood. 

Too easy we point our finger at our counties failures.  Too easy we dwell on long festering mistakes.  Our land is not perfect, for it remains filled with flawed people.  The time has come to look forward.  To work together, shoulder to shoulder, hand in hand, in order to achieve the dreams yearned for by so many for so long...the dreams yet unfulfilled. 

So, what do you see?  I see possibilities!!!

 

(332 Words)                6-29-2015

 

A Change in June

A Change in June

By John W. Vander Velden

 

Danny dashes barefoot across the meadow with a fishing pole upon his shoulder and shouts, "No more homework, no more books, no more teacher's...” Miss Elderbrock had been nice, he couldn't say she ever gave a dirty look.  But it was June and Dan expected the fish were biting...

He holds the vinyl clad document, a symbol of the years of hard work.  Mark closes his eyes a moment as he draws a breath, the afternoon but a blur.   The ink signatures symbols of maturity, high school behind and the world at his feet.  Surely the diploma, a sign that he was a man though his parent's would disagree.  College just a few months away, his life was finally beginning.

Melody slides her fingers across the satin smooth white fabric of the gown that hung on her closet door.  When Alex first sees her in this dress she hopes it will take his breath away.  But now as she touches the silky fabric her mind swirls with a mix of emotions, anticipation, fear, and self-doubt.  Melody understood the long white dress a symbol of a sheer point, when everything in her life will change.  She hears the clock in her parent's parlor downstairs announce one day's end and another's beginning.  This would be the day, this June day, when her new life would begin.

As she smooth’s out a blouse in the nearly packed suitcase, Emily’s head seemed filled to bursting, images of all the events that had brought her to this day flashed in her mind, the years of classes at the university, the all night study sessions, and the job interviews.  The roar of the lawnmower spilling in through the window returns her to the here and now.  Emily's father always seemed to be extra busy on days like these.  Moving to the window, she looked out and down as he crossed the yard yet another time, pushing with all his might.  Catching a glimpse of her car that stood waiting and ready in the driveway made her pause.  She had seen the pride in her parent's eyes, but being the first of the family to earn a degree, she knew they could not understand what she faced...exactly.  Soon the car loaded to the hearth, would take her away, beginning the cross country journey to the west coast to a new home and career.

Life is about changes, those that come unexpected and others…  It seems that June is filled with thirty busy days that include moments when our lives move to new places and experiences.

(430 Words)                6-25-2015

In Harness

In Harness                                 

By John W. Vander Velden

 

Times come, when we consider the bond between ourselves and those that raised us.  The mechanisms between a child and its parents are as complex as the people themselves.  For many, the home and those that fill it, make up the bulk of the very young’s universe.  Early memories have long lasting effects.  So the fortunate have a deep connection – daughter and son – with father and mother.  A connection begun even before birth.

A big strong man, my father.  My earliest memories of a hardworking, present man.  The family farm of the fifties required long hours of labor, whether in field or barn, but always nearby.  Dad was always available.  That shaped the beginning of the link that built between us.  As I grew I was expected to contribute – chores were assigned that I often considered exceeded my capabilities -- certainly exceeded my desire.  To get up early and help with the milking was not my wish in those first days.  The sweeping of the barn on a warm summer’s morning among my last desires.  I remember walking across the hayfield and “rolling” the bales so they could dry evenly.  And later when I drove the Allis-Chalmers WD pulling the wagon slowly across the land, as we picked up those bales my father skillfully stacked. 

The tasks I was given fit me – though I had doubted it at the time.  Work added as I grew older, stronger.  But our lives were not only labor.  Times, when the freedom and the whole farm was at our feet to wander and explore.  Times when our family would go to the lake or dad took us fishing.  He understood that life was more than work.

 I had not forgotten all these things when I began farming as well.  Perhaps the hardest years were the first when the Vander Veldens bought their own land.  Things went very badly those early years of the seventies.  Years that demanded more than hard work – it required sacrifice.  As we poured our sweat and blood into a dream that seemed stillborn.  Time and again we came to the brink of losing it all.  But the long hours and the doing without, in the end, breathed life into that dream.  The backward steps, at last, no longer exceeded our forward motion.  The farm did more than endure – it prospered.

A lifetime lived and time shared – what does it all mean?  Those that have not had these same experiences might find it hard to understand.  To say that my parents were, and are, important to me, should not seem so unusual.  But there is a difference – the sheer volume of time shared.  For dad and I were a team.  Not like a ball team, a group moving toward a goal.  But like a pair of draft animals – bound together, pulling a common burden.  For thirty-five years we were “in harness” – through blistering summers and subzero winters – spring plantings and difficult muddy harvests.  Shoulder to shoulder each complimenting the other – strength against weakness – confidence against fear – sweat spent on long days -- always straining together toward the objective.

Few can understand.  How many willingly pick up the yoke, to be bound to another, year after year?  Surly changes in society have diminished the need – it certainly has reduced the desire.  But this farmer does not regret the harness – rather like all those that have carried the common yoke, I miss, deeply, the empty space, for the harness is now borne alone…

(580 Words)                5-10-2014

To Make a Difference

To Make a Difference                           

By John W. Vander Velden

 

When it really comes down to it, I want to make a difference.  Not the kind of difference that makes the newspaper.  Everyone has the need for recognition the desire to feel important.  No, I want to quietly make things better...just a little.  To change this little corner of my world, for changing “here” makes “there” better too.  Maybe that’s why I write, that my clumsily stacked words plant tiny seeds within the reader.  That by chance those seeds grow a little hope, or confidence, or courage, or self-respect, or faith.  Faith in oneself but more…faith in something larger, stronger, something that can never fail.

Is that too much to ask, to make a difference?  I suppose not.  But that is not all.  I want to know I made a difference.  That when God at last calls me to my rest, I know that I have done something, changed someone, helped a stranger, made a difference.  What a great deal for a simple common man to desire.  But deep inside I believe there is no simple or common person.  That each of us is a unique magnificent creation, loved by God with unbelievable potential.  I want to make a difference, and if I can help you see your infinite worth...then maybe I have!  

(215  Words)               6-12-2015

OH MaY!

OH MaY!

By John W. Vander Velden

 

May can sneak up on a guy.  Here we are endlessly mowing our yards even before we have properly put the snow shovels away.   As a farmer, May has its own hectic significance.  You would think that as I enter my 46th season a rhythm would exist...well yes and no.  Yes, there is a constant sequence of tasks, but things never go as planned.

But everyone faces a bit of insanity as the year marches on, and May certainly is not exempt, for even as the days grow longer, our "to do" list swell.  Flower beds need preparation, the gutters must be cleaned, again.  We gather up hundreds of sticks and twigs that decorate the lawn. Winter's grime needs to be removed from our windows, the grass is always too tall, and the dust bunnies have been breeding like rabbits.

And if all the regular thing were not enough, there are those special events that seem to pop up.  The last 78 things to plan for a June wedding or completing the details of a grad party...been there, done that...hmmmph.  A guy can get tired just thinkin' 'bout it.

Summer is coming and there is just so much to do.  It seems too often we are just “chasing our tail”, as each day we race after unending obligations while reaching toward opportunities we watch slipping away.  Whoa…take a breath…and another.  The world roars on whether we have dandelions in our yard or not.  Time to balance things, or at least prioritize.  Attack the things that need to be done, but allow yourself a bit of time for the things you enjoy doing.  Take care of today…it has plenty…rather than focusing on tomorrow and the days after.  When you reach day’s end, look back at what you have accomplished, trying not to dwell on the unfinished. 

It’s May and though we find ourselves busy it offers the special days of full spring.  We cannot allow “things to be done” to overshadow the damp freshness of the world that surrounds us, or let the roar of the lawnmower mask the Robin’s call.  Find ourselves so focused on errant weeds that we cannot see the flowers that bloom in red, blue and yellow, or to permit the odor of cleaning solution to separate us from the fresh scent of the lilacs. Yes, there is so much to do, but it’s oh my…May, and May is a wonderful time!

(405 Words)

To Honor

To Honor

By John W. Vander Velden

I walked on a rolling green perfectly mowed space with line upon line of limestone markers.  It was a beautiful spring day, when in breathless awe I stood in Arlington National Cemetery.  The rows of tablets carved with names, ranks, and dates, simple symbols of the thousands who considered the worth of my freedom greater than the value of their lives.  My eyes teared at the thought of so
many lives cut short, those that gave their all. 

And we that stand spared, how do we honor them?  Too easily we turn away from our duty to protect the weak, the oppressed.  Too easily we take our privileged freedoms for granted.  Too easily we put out of our minds the names and faces of the men and women that stood in our stead and faced fear head on, those that came home changed, and those that did not return.  Should we not take time to remember?  Are not among them kin, and neighbor?  Have we forgotten the “others” that shared in the cost, the loved ones of the injured and fallen, those that stood silently in the shadows, yet bear heavy burdens as well?

Surely in a perfect world there would be no need…no need for the sacrifice…no need for the remembering.  But this world is not perfect, and time and time again blood demanded, lives stolen, such a high price set that must be paid.  The bugle’s melancholy notes honor those that have earned their rest.  Let us remember the reason the flag flies mid pole.  And allow the remembering to shape our lives so that we stand boldly for what is right and true.  Today we are reminded, we must live to honor them.  Uphold the high standards they fought to protect, justice and honor, respect and understanding, truth and equality.

One day insufficient, the parades and ceremonies, of themselves, not enough.  Until the day comes when all wars cease, we must remember them, and live each day to honor them.

(333 Words)  5-21-2015