Hello again from Nicholas. I have heard that it is customary to "blog" on the weekends that you have "farm duty." And so, this weekend I drew the straw for weekend duty. Furthermore, because I am finding myself with a bit of free time, I thought I would share another meditation that may get lost in the shuffle:
The beauty on the WHRI farm is incredible. But, for me, the appreciation has been growing. When I first came here, I noticed un-mowed grass, clumps of weeds, a messy barn, and many other things that to the 21st century eye (addicted to plastic, artificial things) might seem a bit unkempt and "messy." But, it is in these things that I am finding more and more beauty. The farm acts as a boundary between nature and man, and everywhere the two meet, beauty flourishes...in the rusted farm equipment, in the compost piles, in the community kitchen and its myriad of nooks and crannies, in the garden and its furrows and beds, in the blooms, the farmcats, and the farm family(ie)s. Wherever labor is sown, order is grown from chaos, and creativity brings forth beauty.
I am just amazed and so grateful to be on this lovely farm. It has started to refine my "type A" personality and humble me in ways I didn't know needed it. Thank you God, and thank you farm for being so beyond my "control" that it is laughable.
World Hunger Relief, Inc.
2 comments:
Thanks for this reminder Nicholas! That was beautiful.
Lynsey
Yonder Way Farm (Brenham)
p.s. Tell all of the TOFGA goers I said "wuz up!"
Oh, Nicholas Grant!
Your beautiful soul--so God-Given--is always amazing for your mother to see "in print." I am so thankful you are finding beauty in the midst of disorder...for disorder contains all the raw ingredients for everything God has invested in our hearts and minds and souls. I have a picture in my heart now of my lanky son tending bees, composting and bending down to stroke the sun-warmed fur of a farm cat who is twining around his legs and needing a bit of human attention.
I will copy and paste for you one of my all-time favorite poems, Pied Beauty for it speaks to my often cluttered and less than perfect heart about God's love for "dappled...freckled... and spotted" things. (A "pied" pony or horse is one that is splotched and spotted..."painted" as it were by the brush of the Divine in bold and random strokes. I like that God loves "quirkiness!")
Pied Beauty
By Gerard Manly Hopkins
Glory be to God for dappled things—
For skies of couple-color as a brinded cow;
For rose-mole all in stipple upon trout that swim;
Freshfire-coal chestnut-falls; finches wings;
Landscape plotted and pieced—fold, fallow and plough;
And all trades, their gear and tackle and trim.
All things counter, original, spare, strange;
Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;
He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:
Praise Him.
I love you, Nicholas...forever (plus a day!)
Mom
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