To Laugh at the Storm

Snowdrifts! Scudding clouds! The harsh wind!

But we mind them not, dear Lord. 

Snow will have filled the stock pond. 

Harsh wind will have planted flower seeds in the fence row. 

Help us, our Father, in twenty and [nine] days to do the work of thirty-one, and to catch up on our reading too. 

O Great Shepherd, bless the dumb creatures hereabouts as they multiply, that we may have more meat for our strength--we who go striding out, so well-booted and so well-bundled from their substance, to encounter the gale and laugh at the storm. 

For health and plenty and hickory wood, we thank thee. 

With humble hearts. 

But big plans! 


(excerpt from the book, The Farmer Gives Thanks by Samuel R. Guard; photo by Ciprian Pardău via

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