I have fond memories of growing up on the farm. Memories that will always hold a special place in my heart. When I close my eyes, I can still see my dad climbing down from the combine to have a cup of coffee and a peanut butter sandwich that my mom and I had brought out for him. For me, coffee breaks meant time to run and jump like a hurdler over the rows upon rows of cut grain. It was fun, it was freeing.
The grain dust was so thick in the air one could hardly breath yet, as evening came, the dust made for an incredible crimson red sunset. When dusk gave way to the darkness, every star in the night sky seem to shine. It was amazing, it was beautiful.
Mom and I would wait patiently in the grain truck for Dad to flash the combine lights, letting us know that the hopper was full of grain and it was time for us to drive over so he could unload. I can still hear the gentle, humming sound of the combine in the distance. It was soothing. While waiting, Mom and I would laugh and discuss everyday life and sometimes we would talk about God. It was our special time together.
As we celebrate Thanksgiving this weekend, I am grateful for these memories that will live on in my heart. Although my Dad has passed away now, I am thankful that I was able to grow up on a farm. I am thankful for the special time with my Mom and I am thankful to believe in a God that created it all!
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