August 26, 2007

A Father’s Arms

Growing up on a farm included chores. One of those chores was walking the cow’s home each evening to milk them. Before my brother and I were deemed old enough to walk them home ourselves, our father would occasionally take us along.

He was running late one hot summer evening and decided to take a short cut through a soon to be harvested wheat field to get to the pasture where the cows were grazing. He told me and my little brother to stay behind. We waited until he was out of sight, grabbed each others hands and followed him anyway. Soon the wheat was over our heads and I lost the grip on my brother’s hand. I hear him crying and I push my way through the billowing wheat trying to find him. It was futile so I resorted to calling for help.

Suddenly, I am lifted off the ground by two strong arms. Our father had heard our cries for help. He carried the two of us through the wheat and deposited us at the end of field with strict instructions to go directly home.

We feared a reprimand and a spanking but it never happened.

We also never followed him again into a field of wheat.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

It's great that you remember so much from childhood, I can't remember very well.

My mother could never remember things very well either and I used to get frustrated with her, but now I understand. I'm the same way.

Pam Dyson, MA, PLPC said...

I suggest you keep a thought pad and pen by your bed. At the end of the day jot down your feelings and anything else that pops into you mind. You don't have to elaborate, just write a few key words. The next day take those thoughts and put them down on paper or use your word processor on your computer. I have found that the more I write the more I can recall from the past. Try it and let me know if it works for you.

hbl said...

What a nice story!