THANKSGIVING at STRAWBERRY RIDGE
We've had many interesting Thanksgivings, but one stands out as the best and most joyful of all. It was not planned in advance, a fact that supports good things sometimes defy planning. When my wife and I were married we immediately moved in to my family farm. It was located at Strawberry Ridge in Pennsylvania. Wild strawberries did grow there, but the area is not known for that delicacy. One thing that identified the farm was the large paintings on the side of the big, red barn. Two white horses were rearing, facing each other, with a large eagle overhead in the middle.
Strawberry Ridge was the name of a rural village about a mile down the road. Until the end of World War II, it was a busy place with only a handful of houses, but a group of businesses that served the agriculturally dominated area. It had a milk receiving station, a feed mill, a general store that handled everything, a railroad freight station, a church, a hotel and a former one room school converted to a polling place for the township. There was regular railroad freight service, and the village was located on a slight ridge with a four corners crossroad. While there were larger villages in the area, Strawberry Ridge was a center of local farming supplies and needs. There was no other milk receiving station nearby, and farmers hauled their milk daily to the receiving station.
During the war years, schools dismissed students at 1pm., right after lunch. This was to make the children available to assist on the farms. The war effort required an increased production of all kinds of agricultural products. Both boys and girls helped with the farm activities, but the boys were introduced to field work and other tasks at an earlier age than usual. They learned the trade and were the first generation to make the transition from horses to tractors. Because the war effort required tanks, airplanes and mechanical equipment, new tractors were not available. Neither were new cars available until the war's end. People got used to shortages of all kinds. Some things like tires and nylon stockings were scarce. Almost everything was rationed, and after the military, farmers were next in line for scarce commodities.
By the time of this Thanksgiving, the war was long over, and the
transition to modern farming was well underway. Now that labor saving equipment was available, most farmers, like us, stepped up the volume of activities. Some took outside jobs or pursued a professional career along with maintaining a farm. My work in the ministry was put on hold, as I accepted a position with the Department of Agriculture. It was an opportune time, because the national management of crops was beginning. I later moved to the newspaper business as a writer, editor and photographer.
My wife managed the business and work of the farm, and still managed to continue her education in the ministry field as well as becoming qualified to serve as a magistrate. The combination of our long work hours and outside jobs did not leave much recreation or holiday time. We spent some pretty sparse Thanksgivings. During my military service years I didn't take holiday leave. There were younger men who needed the down time at home worse than I.
The Thanksgiving I'm writing about here seemed to follow the usual pattern, with extra work on the farm as animal chores were in the winter mode. That meant more time for feeding, watering and cleaning bedding areas. We didn't have off farm work this day, but needed the extra time to catch up on projects. We had purchased items for a bountiful meal, but it looked like we wouldn't have prep time for the main dishes. That all changed with a phone call early in the morning.
We were just getting underway with chores when the call came from friends who lived about 50 miles away. This family--husband and wife, and son about 10--became friends with us because of their interest in dairy goats. Among our 200 head of livestock were dairy cows and dairy goats. The goats were special because we began our herd with national champion does from the Sandberg Estate. They set production records, and gave us international sales and recognition. Our friends--the Mosher family-- had visited our farm several times and were interested in our operation. They were also Christians, and we enjoyed our scriptural discussions.
The Moshers were observing Thanksgiving alone, and thought it would be a good idea to invite us. It was a wonderful idea, but we knew there weren't enough hours in the day for us to do all the chores and make the round trip of over two hours. We thanked them for the invitation, and they had visited often enough to understand the rigors of wintertime chores. Then, they came up with a super idea. They could pack up all the goodies, including the turkey, and bring the feast to us. They didn't have the time constraints as we did.
It was a sort of reverse invitation, but having most of the dishes
prepared ahead of time meant we could even have the meal close to the normal desired time. Wow! Did we ever accept their offer, and we moved briskly into the chores. We weren't quite done with the work when the Moshers arrived, and Skeeter assisted Mary Lou in making the final preparations. We added some of our planned menu, and we had a scrumptious meal. In addition to the Moshers, we had a young lad
staying with us for the holiday vacation. We were six very thankful
people.
Joy abounded, as we enumerated the many things each of us had
been blessed with, including the great fellowship of Christian friends.
Instead of watching football after the meal, we could exchange stories
and events in our lives for which we were thankful. The fellowship was
actually better than the bountiful meal. What had begun as a possible
drudgery day with the prospect of eating on the fly, ended with happy
conversation and a visit that included time with the animals.
What I have come to know as I've gotten older is that we take God's
blessings for granted and only "see" the big events in our lives. When
I deviated from a bells and whistles message at a gathering some years
ago, a self righteous impersonator (he thought he was a Christian) urged
me to speed up my message. The Holy Spirit disagreed with him, and I
followed the Holy Spirit's leading. We should all be thankful for the many
everyday "small" things we don't miss until these functions are lost. It
is then we become aware of how much God gives us and how often we
just accept these blessings without appreciation. Happy blessed
Thanksgiving everybody.
Rev. Walbear
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