Skip to main content

Worlds Intersected

The phone messages from him began arriving at the start of a very long and busy day; the first was waiting for me when I arrived at the office.

The message told of finding someone living on the street and how they needed help. “Please call back,” the slightly quivery voice said, “I’ll be out on the tractor, but you can ask my wife to call me on the two way radio and I’ll come in.”

For the rest of the day we played the familiar game of “Phone Tag.” I was out when he called me and when I called him back I got the answering machine. His messages sounded increasingly urgent.

Towards the end of the day a woman answered the phone. “I was down doing eggs,” she said, “Father is out in the fields. I can try to reach him but I doubt he’ll hear the radio over the sound of the tractor.”

I told her that I was working late and that he could call me whenever he got in. Before I hung up the phone, I asked about the farm. She told me that “Father” was 84 and still farming 400 acres. “He always wanted a farm and he bought it when he came back from the war,” she said. Apparently there was a North Farm, South Farm and the Home Farm on the land.

The woman said with a little laugh, “I’m a town girl that went country,” and it was obvious that she loved the life and was happy to still be working side by side with “Father” after sixty years.

I worked on in my office as evening grew dark, while the wind blew rain that was fast turning to sleet past my window. My car, in the parking lot across the road, was gathering its first winter coating of ice.

We finally connected. He’d been out in the fields, working against time, bringing in things before the bad weather hit.

In between gathering information about the young man he’d called about, I learned more about the farm and just as his wife called him "Father," he called her "Mother."

It was obvious as I listened to him and the deep emotion in his voice, that he had a heart of compassion for people who were lost in one way or another, and a deep faith in God. He said it had always been the way on the farm to take in people in need of a place to stay, almost like stray animals. “You’d come in after dark and never know who you’d find sleeping on the floor,” he said.

I was touched by his concern for the young friend he’d found on the street. He reminded me of an older version of Paul. “I am married to a man with a heart like yours,” I told him.

“Then you’re lucky,” he said, strangely without a trace of pride--he was just a plain and honest farmer telling me a fact…and I knew that he was right.

Worlds intersected that night; I in my office, deluged in an avalanche of paperwork; he working hard against the clock, bringing in bales of hay; both of us part of the family of God and really working for another world all together.

Comments

OK, you've got me curious, what's happened to the kid on the street?? I love stories like this.
Belinda said…
It turned out that he was no longer on the street, although that was where the man had met him. He was in a group home for people with mental health needs (his diagnosis was Schizophrenia). The farmer--"shepherd" was still very concerned and wanted him to be helped by our faith based agency. Although the list of people with huge needs is long, and it sounded as if his needs could be better met in the mental health system, we decided to explore as far as we could in our direction.

I'm so glad you liked the story. That's a great compliment from a man who is one of my favourite story tellers!

Popular posts from this blog

Just Joy!

Our family has a standing date for Sunday dinner on the first Sunday of every month. Not that we don't see each other at any other time, but we all know that particular Sunday is pretty much for sure--and I look forward to it so much--the front door bursting open and our house being filled once more with the voices and vibrancy of six grandchildren and their parents. 

This week Spero, Brenda's new Australian Shepherd puppy came too, and met his extended family, leaving Molson at home to have a rest! He was duly adored by all of us.


He came with a dazzling array of toys and is proving a fast learner, already sitting on command and responding to Tori's training. I was so impressed at her technique of quickly rewarding a turnaround from any slight naughtiness with praise for "good sitting," or "good" any other desirable behaviour! 

Tippy had her hair cut stunningly and bravely short the day before; making a statement about who she is as a unique individual, o…

The Secret Adventures of Susan's Scottish Scarf

By Belinda (with a lot of help from Susan :))
I was saying goodnight to her at the front door this week when she told me. There was apparently more to the scarf around her neck than I knew. 
The scarf had been a gift from me for Susan's birthday on Tuesday December 18th. It had been her 60th; and that day I had treated her to lunch to celebrate. 
We met at a tiny restaurant, Port Soiree, in Schomberg,near her office. It was a restaurant neither of us had been to before and it turned out to be a gem, with artsy ambiance, amazing food, wonderful service and modest pricing. In other words, it was perfect!