I’ve been told that a visit to the farm is like therapy. Even when we’re trying to outsmart a catfood-stealing raccoon or mending fences for goat escapees, there is something therapeutic to tending the animals, walking to the creek and searching for crawdads (aka crayfish).
Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, we continued a tradition of having bonfires as we cleared more brush from the pasture and fence lines. The difference this year was that we actually had goats inside the fence with us. We even gave the newest baby goat (ZsaZsaZsa-Noel) her first vaccine, and we did a round of goat deworming medicine for the others.
When Kristie and Ali visited the farm, we had hoped that the donkeys would bray at the sound of a violin, but the donkeys just turned and walked to the barn, much to my disappointment. Kristie said, “this is the first time my audience has ever pooped during a performance.”
Ali fed the goats and donkeys crackers and goat snacks, gathered eggs, and we looked for crawdads in the creek. This time of year can be overwhelming to adults. It’s remembering that acorns with caps, pinecones on dead trees and crawdads under rocks in the cold creek water are pure joy.
It’s coloring in books, spending time and being present that is the present that so many seek this time of year. When the tree is put away, the wrapping paper torn and the lights grow dim, the time we spend in the company of angels is the gift that we carry throughout the year.
In the words of the old hymn, “What can I give Him, poor as I am? If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb. If I were a wise man, I would do my part. Yet what I can I give Him, give my heart.”
May you give from your heart.
Photos courtesy of Janet Reep-Morgan, Kristie Bittleston and Jim Morgan. Used with permission on raisedbyavillage.com