Inspired by the Super Bowl commercial and a comment from my youngest sister, Tory, I have fashioned this reply to Paul Harvey’s speech. Dedicated to my Mom, sisters and hundreds of farm wives that are some of the most spectacular women I know. This is for you…
And on the 9th day God looked down and said, “I have just asked a lot of this old boy, he is going to need some help,” So God made a farmer’s wife.
God said, “She has to get up before dawn and not let that farmer hit snooze for the third time, cook breakfast while he is milking cows, wake and ready the brood for school, take supper to him in the field and remind him to quit in time to get to the school board meeting in town.” So God made a farmer’s wife.
“I need someone strong enough to carry his children and at 8 months along run cows out of corn field. Someone to run for parts, come home and throw a meal together and deliver another meal to a sick neighbor. Someone to mend his clothes and keep them clean, who will deliver her good towels and own hair dryer to the barn to warm a shivering calf.” So God made a farmer’s wife.
“I need someone who will trade off with him in the barn while saving that newborn colt. And when it dies, she will cry, when he says, ‘Maybe next year.’ Someone who can use that ax and knows where to find it. Who can fashion a child’s belt out of baling twine, while running horses back in and fixing the hot wire. And who at planting time finishes her forty-hour week by Tuesday noon, 16 of those hours at her in town job.” So God made a farmer’s wife.
God knew that farmer would need someone out there bucking bales & bouncing along at double speed helping get that hay in ahead of the rain. Someone who would run with him to the neighbors’ when he sees smoke and then come up with enough food to feed the tired, hungry, impromptu firemen. So God made a farmer’s wife.
God said, “She has to be strong enough to heave bales, scoop out bins, carry feed buckets, yet gentle enough to fix a child’s boo-boo with a duct tape & shop towel bandage in the middle of a field. It has to be someone who won’t cut corners when it comes to the land and animals but cut them in her clothing, grocery, beautician and decorating budget. Somebody to seed, weed, feed, breed and rake and disc and plow and mix calf bottles and load livestock and haul them to town. Who makes sure everyone is bathed and in the pew Sunday morning for church.”
“Somebody who would trust his guidance, but offer her suggestions, as he baled his family together in love and sharing. Who gently reminds him of who he is working for. Someone who would laugh, then sigh and then reply with smiling eyes, when her daughter says she wants to grow up and ‘marry a farmer.’” So God made a farmer’s wife.
For another perspective on this topic, check out this similar post by Diane over at her blog, A Farm Wife.
**This post has gotten tons of views, and I appreciate that! However, if you care to repost this poem or share on your own blog, PLEASE include a link back to me and give credit where credit is do! Megan is a talented writer and I would be so ashamed and sad if someone was to claim her words as their own. She gave me her permission to share these words, so please do us both a favor and don't share without proper credit. Thanks.**