Udder End Farm

When I was a little girl, I awaited Christmas Eve with unfailing hope and anticipation of a great wonder. Not for presents- not the kind you think of when you think of children. My parents were generous, so receiving presents was not a great concern. I wanted a Christmas miracle. I do not recall when or where I got the notion, but I was convinced that at midnight on Christmas Eve all the animals would be given the gift of speech. After the family activities subsided, I would bundle up and head through the snowy Michigan night to the barn to await this miracle. Sometime before or after midnight, I never quite knew which, my father would come and bundle me, soundly sleeping, back to the house. It seemed I always missed the miracle.

I don’t recall when I first became aware that animals, in fact, have the gift of speech. Furthermore they possess this ability at all times, not just on Christmas Eve (we all know this is particularly true of goats). The miracle had occurred in me- I had been given the gift of hearing them; and not just at feeding time. I still spend quite a bit of my Christmas Eves in the barn for one reason or another, but always filled with gratitude for a hope realized.

Lots and lots of people have been given the gift of hearing the animals talk. It’s a simple abundant gift, found widespread among people who (surprise!) live with animals; but not a universal gift. I watch my older daughter struggle with her spirited horse or a rebellious goat and I think “When will she get it? When will my kid learn to respond to this creature? After all; she’s my kid! How can she not have the gift?” Perhaps she just hasn’t unwrapped it yet. She hasn’t picked up and unwrapped her gift of hearing the animals. Perhaps good folk everywhere have not picked up and unwrapped many wonderful gifts they have been given.

Our mothers all told us it is more blessed to give than to receive. I’ve just about figured out that our mothers were wrong. Giving is easy. Giving is fun. I am surrounded by all kinds of people who do it every day. I also get a kick out of sharing from the abundance the Good Lord has bestowed on me. But this story isn’t about how blessed it is to give, because we all know that. The really difficult thing is to accept gifts; be they material goods, physical assistance, or just plainspoken words of wisdom. Or people’s time- time is so fleeting and precious and rare; how can we in good conscience accept such an irreplaceable gift?

Barn raising is a perfect example. My husband and I are building a modest pole barn with our own three hands. But it’s difficult to build even a modest barn, or parts of it, with just three hands. He comes home from work every night with just an hour or two of daylight left and we work on this barn. But very soon after we started this project more hands magically appeared. Neighbors to whom we hadn’t spoken a dozen words to in as many years (it’s that time thing, you understand) appeared with tractors and augers to help him level the location and set the posts. Dear friends have spent whole days with their own equipment doing backhoe work and welding on gates for us. A very precious lady showed up one weekend four days after her husband’s funeral and helped us finish the framing- then she thanked us for letting her help! “It was fun,” she said. “Marvin and I loved to build things. I needed to get out of that house”. These are very difficult gifts to unwrap. People did not come help raise this barn expecting an exchange. They simply came.

Here is another one that keeps me awake at night. The second year we grew hay we struggled endlessly with recalcitrant old equipment. We have a small tractor; we mow with an antique sickle bar, rake with a two wheel rake and contract the baling. Neighbors watched in amusement as we got in the first cutting. The second cutting was a real doozey and the sickle bar would not do the job. For three days Eric fought his way around the edges of that field without making much headway. The fourth morning, a Sunday, we awoke to the sound of machinery outside our window and found one of our favorite neighbors mowing our field with his swather. I knew for a fact that his own hay lay half cut in his field. I stood speechless before him as he explained. “I don’t do this for anybody- I can’t keep up with my own work. But at least you folks get out there and try ! I guess I don’t mind helping folks who will at least try.” A week later we went to his funeral. He had been dying of cancer for a year and hadn’t mentioned it to anyone. Pop quiz- was the greater gift his physical assistance, or his words of wisdom? Or was it was his time, what little he had left?

Here is one of my all time favorites. Walking around my back yard are a fabulous Kaptein grandson and several gorgeous Kaptein granddaughters, placed there freely and without hope of recompense by some wonderful kind folks, who simply wanted me to be encouraged and raise even better goats. I actually am paying them back for those gifts- by being encouraged and raising even better goats, just like they hoped. Thank you.

Have you ever, in these modern times, had anyone volunteer to come milk your cow twice a day for week, so you could go on vacation? I have. An apple pie, a word of encouragement, help with the kids (two legged), help with the livestock. Admit that it is difficult to freely receive, without worrying about a chance to reciprocate. But gifts are just that. They aren’t meant to be repaid. They are meant to be unwrapped and enjoyed, played with, treasured, and sometimes shared. Here is a bizarre statement for this day and age: I believe people give all sorts of gifts freely, out of hearts filled and flowing with love. I believe miracles happen. I believe every day is Christmas. This is based on my true life experience. Honest injun.

Can I share my best gift with you? The gift that makes it possible to receive and unwrap every other gift, every moment, and every circumstance with gracious gratitude ? Every good and perfect gift comes down from the Father, with whom there is no variation or shadow of turning. This Christmas Eve when you’re out in the barn waiting for another miracle, for the birth of that most special baby (four legged), please ponder in your heart that most special Baby (two legged), and the greatest gift He brings; freely given to you, and to all who will receive and unwrap it.
Merry Christmas, and Great Tidings of Comfort and Joy