and on the 8th day, God made a farmer... | olive june
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and on the 8th day, God made a farmer...

last night when the dodge ram's farmers commercial came on... i instantly connected and could relate to every aspect of the storyline because that's where i am from - where i grew up. 

if you've ever heard jason aldean's song, fly over states, it describes it perfectly: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h6OEPp3PSPA

within just a few minutes of airing, people from home were blowing up facebook about how much they loved seeing a tribute to farmers- something that is hardly ever done in our country... 

then my brother, alex, sent me a text reminding me about our grandfathers, who were both farmers, and how the poem was read at their funerals...

to some people in america, this was probably just another commercial ... but to me, it meant so, so much to see such a tribute to those i love- those that spent their lives doing what they loved - working hard. 

ironically, today is the 4 year anniversary of losing my grandpa charlie - my dad's father. he lived until he was 95 years old and was the patriarch of our family ~ he was a man of strength, faith, love, and was a proud farmer. 


in honor of him, i decided to post the words to the poem & video- God made a farmer. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sillEgUHGC4&feature=player_embedded


                                                         charles a. wolf 
june 3, 1913- february 4, 2009 

the art on the wall above us is a painting of my grandparent's farmhouse in minster, ohio 
some of his legacy... at the lake at home 





the poem:



So God Made a Farmer
And on the eighth day, God looked down on his planned paradise and said, “I need a caretaker.” So God made a farmer.
God said, “I need somebody willing to get up before dawn, milk cows, work all day in the field, milk cows again, eat supper, then go to town and stay past midnight at a meeting of the township board.” So God made a farmer.
“I need somebody with arms strong enough to wrestle a calf and yet gentle enough to cradle his own grandchild. Somebody to call hogs, tame cantankerous machinery, come home hungry, have to wait for lunch until his wife’s done feeding visiting ladies, then tell the ladies to be sure to come back real soon and mean it.” So God made a farmer.
God said, “I need somebody willing to sit up all night with a newborn colt and watch it die, then dry his eyes and say, ‘Maybe next year,’ I need somebody who can shape an ax handle from an ash tree, shoe a horse, who can fix a harness with hay wire, feed sacks and shoe scraps. Who, during planting time and harvest season will finish his 40-hour week by Tuesday noon and then, paining from tractor back, up in another 72 hours.” So God made a farmer.
God had to have somebody willing to ride the ruts at double speed to get the hay in ahead of the rain clouds and yet stop in mid-field and race to help when he sees the first smoke from a neighbor’s place. So God made a farmer.
God said, “I need somebody strong enough to clear trees and heave bales, yet gentle enough to help a newborn calf begin to suckle and tend the pink-comb pullets, who will stop his mower in an instant to avoid the nest of meadowlarks.”
It had to be somebody who’d plow deep and straight and not cut corners. Somebody to seed, weed, feed, breed, brake, disk, plow, plant, strain the milk, replenish the self-feeder and finish a hard week’s work with an eight mile drive to church. Somebody who’d bale a family together with the soft, strong bonds of sharing, who would laugh, and then sigh and then reply with smiling eyes when his family says that they are proud of what Dad does. “So God made a farmer.”
grandpa~ 
although not very glamorous and not always well respected, i am so proud of what you did and the legacy that you left behind... 
rest in piece, gramps. we miss you - all the time.  

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