By Wenda Grabau
Heritage is a big part of each person’s life. It is defined, in The World Book Dictionary, as “What is or may be handed on to a person from his ancestors, such as land, a trait, beliefs, or customs; inheritance:” Our inheritance does, indeed, include all of that.
Our farm has existed for 163 years. We have spent but a short time in its history. We credit much of our situation to those who have gone before us. Sights, sounds and places on the farm have influenced our lives and those of our family.
My husband has been at work refurbishing one of those places. It is the farm lawn swing. It is a place there many of our friends who visit us enjoy a peaceful time soaking up the scene God has created – the verdant countyside, the brilliant sunset awash over the landscape. Nights as darkness settles on the earth, my family delights in the spectacle of twinkling fire flies flitting around the yard.
The lawn swing is suspended by a free-standing frame. Two benches joined by a platform can hold up to six adults. The platform, pumped by the riders’ feet, sets the swing in motion. This particular lawn swing is unique – my husband built it with lumber made from trees he and his Dad felled. In addition, my husband’s father designed it.
Yes, there is much for which to be grateful as we ponder the setting in which God has placed us. Many men and women have labored and lived here. They have left their marks. In their absence we can appreciate their participation in forming this place we call home. One such person is our children’s Grandpa.
Grandpa’s Fingerprints
Wenda Grabau © 2000
I see Grandpa’s fingerprints all around this farm,
From the shelves lined with jars of home-canned food,
To the blazing furnace that heats with wood.
I see Grandpa’s fingerprints all around this farm.
He grew up a young, sprite lad all around this farm
Leaving notes for Ev’rett, Be’trice and Joe
(On Ma’s cupboard screen where her pies would go,
In fresh cement Pa had trow’led) all around this farm.
With his share of work to do all around this farm,
Our young Grandpa milked Holstein cows by hand,
Husked corn from the field with love for this land.
Yes, he left his fingerprints all around this farm.
He could see God’s fingerprints all around this farm.
Hay, corn and cattle on the
rolling hills,
And in the flower bed, Ma’s Daffodils.
Grandpa lived his life for Christ all around this farm.
Grandpa lived as a wise man all around this farm.
He found a young maid that be loved dearly.
They vowed faithfulness and love sincerely.
New fingerprints enriched life all around this farm.
The neat, red-painted buildings all around this farm,
Green grass, manicured gardens, the wind mill,
The cozy farmhouse and picket fence will
Quicken fond mem’ries of life all around this farm.
Gifts to show his love for us all around this farm;
Cedar chest, writing desk, picnic table,
The lawn swing built with heart and hand able.
Dear Grandpa, sweet Grandpa, we miss you on this farm.
You said, “God called me to work all around this farm.”
Your godly values forged a healthy start
For your offspring, the delights of your heart.
Your fingerprints are not just all around this farm.
*Dedicated to my father-in-law, Norman William Grabau
I, too, have a chance to leave my fingerprints on this place, at least in the hearts of my children.
One of the fine memories we have in the summertime is making popsicles. They come in handy when we are doing hot work, like baling hay. I don’t recall where I got this recipe, but it is tops!
Homemade Popsicles
1 3-oz. package of flavored gelatin
One cup hot water
Cold water
1 package of same-flavored Kool-Aid (Try different flavors, lemonade is good.)
1 cup sugar
Dissolve gelatin in steaming hot water. Place mixture in a 2 quart pitcher. Add cold water to make 2 quarts. Dissolve Kool-Aid powder and sugar to mixture. Mix well.
Pour liquid into popsicle molds or small paper cups with sticks and freeze.