The other night I decided I’d walk from my little home over to my grandparents house. They live just across from a nursery where almost every plant in the world is grown, I’m sure of it. I left the house almost too close to sunset but I had been baking bread to give to them and it had taken longer than usual to finish.
When I was little, I said I would never live in town. I’d always be a ranch girl, just like my mama was, as was her mom. I couldn’t imagine starting an urban life where I’d be trapped on asphalt fields and in a chain linked cage. I just knew that houses would be so close that I could spit from my window into the neighbors.
Little did I know back then that I’d end up living in town and being quite satisfied with it. As I walked along the dirt path to my grandparents, I realized how much of the world I grew up in is still with me now.
On the right side of the street, just ahead, several acres are the home to one of the most productive sweet corn crops in the area. Usually the owner sets up a stand on the weekends and sells his harvest. People come from far and wide to buy it. On the left side is an old southern style home. You know the type, like you’d see on Gone With the Wind. Rumor has it that when our area was first settled, the rich ranchers lived in these types of houses in town and their hired men actually lived out on the ranch and did the real work. The yard abounded in flowers of every color and hue. It almost looked as if it could be from a painting or at least in a calendar. The sign in front of the dirt drive way said “Tuk-r-inn.” How clever J. I walked farther and passed some houses that were more plain, a little log home that had a tree trunk carved to look like a friendly moose, stood in the front yard. “Welcome to our Cabin” was painted on a forest green sign on the door, I kept walking. Up ahead I saw a dark red house that looked like it once was a barn. The white picket fence all around it really set the mood. I had to crane my neck a little, and I’m sure I even looked a bit snoopy, but I noticed chickens out in the back pecking away at the freshly sprinkled, vibrantly green grass. A nicely kept lean-two in the back looked to be the perfect city side coop. I was almost to grandmas house at that point but just before I rounded the bend, deep rooted oak trees caught my attention. They lined the driveway to a two story house. Dark blue in color with white trim, like frosting on a cake. The red roses in the front and old iron pump hydrant completed the scene. Finally, I approached grandpa and grandma’s front door.
It was almost as if they knew I would be coming. Even though their getting more feeble, they quickly slid the door open and welcomed me with warm hugs and smiles. As usual, grandma was almost apologetic that I would bring them anything. As I set the bread down I explained that I used to find so much joy in baking for a whole crew after branding or sheering, and now I get that same joy by sharing the food that I make. I knew I couldn’t stay long because the sun was going down and I still had the entire walk back. As I turned to leave, grandpa said “We always pray for each of you kids and your families, everyday. We know that we can’t be as great of a help to you now that we’re getting older. But the greatest helper is God and when we call on Him, we trust that He will always be there for you.” It almost brought tears to my eyes when grandpa said that. A man of such wisdom and such a clear mind even though his almost 90 years of age have really started taking a toll. Grandma broke my train of thought and urged me to start my trip back “Before the dark catches up with you!” was her explination. We hugged and shared some farewells.
As I headed home, the sun was just finding its resting place on the horizon. Each layer of the sky was a different color that again brought to life all of the special pieces of this little town and the lessons that each piece represent. The deep rooted oak trees are like the deep heritage Grandpa and Grandma have passed down from their ancestors, to my parents and now, to me. The chickens in the back yard of the old barn-style home make me aware of the freedoms we have as Americans. We aren’t trapped in by strict laws or so much legislation that we’re unable to do what we’d like. This image blended right into the blue house with white trim and those bright red flowers in the front. When we experience freedoms like we do in America, we need to celebrate with patriotism and be proud of our freedoms, lest we let them be taken away. It was like the little log cabin sung a song of welcoming. With the friendly moose and the kind sign. It almost felt like I knew the people inside. I hope my smile can be just as warming and welcoming to all that encounter it. The “Tuk-r-inn” looks attractive and inviting. Now, if I could only make my personality that way. Where people would consider me very approachable and someone that they can confide in. The field full of produce reminds me that we are able to pick the seeds in our life we’d like to produce. This way we can grow exactly whichever attitudes and habits that we’re willing to water and feed everyday. Keeping in mind that we have to weed out the negatives and sprinkle maricle grow on the really good attributes we should maintain. The fancy house makes me look to God. He could be like those rich landowners. Hire people to do the dirty work because of His entitlements. But God doesn't accept a higher position, he wants to walk with us everyday. Helping us through each struggle and caring for our every need. I guess living the town life isn’t as bad as I’d imagined. It's a place I thought I’d never call home, but a place that has truly realigned my perspective.