Heart of a Farmer
We usually post pictures of happy kids and the beauties of life on the farm. This isn’t one of those. But it is a very real picture of life on the farm.
This picture is over a year old. I’ve had a hard time putting words to it. You might wonder why anyone would even want to put words to it. I’ve wondered that myself.
Nobody wants to see pictures of crying kids, but this is more than an upset little girl. This is life on the farm.
Hallie doesn’t cry much. Don’t get me wrong; she has her moments like all kids do. But for the most part, she’s pretty tough.
Crying gets very little sympathy around our house. Life is full of hardships and problems, but crying doesn’t fix those things. Of course we are emotional beings, but we don’t want our kids to see crying as a solution to their problems. Crying is not the way to get what you want.
As heartless as it sounds, tearful little faces are usually turned away until the crying has stopped.
However, this tearful little face was not turned away. These were not selfish tears. These tears capture the heart of a farmer.
Life on the farm is just that: full of life. Farming is more than the production of food. Farming is a participation with life. Producing food is both life giving and life taking.
Life on the farm is full of life… and full of death.
No matter what kind of farm.
A farm with no death is a farm with no life.
Hallie understands how life works.
She understands how death works.
She has a greater appreciation for food because of it.
She has a greater appreciation for life because of it.
She is not blind, and we don’t try to hide reality from her.
She’s here on chicken processing days.
When we eat chicken for dinner, she knows where it comes from.
She knows the whole process.
She understands that we give our animals the best life we can.
She also understands that without people eating chickens, we can’t afford or justify raising them.
She understands that people eating our chickens is what allows our chickens to live the best life we can give them.
So why the tears?
I remember like it was yesterday Hallie reluctantly approaching me trying to keep it together. Well aware of our lack of sympathy for crying, she was making an intentional effort to stay composed, but her little chin quivered as she told me, “My favorite little chicky died.”
There were over 500 live chicks running around in the brooder, but she was heartbroken over this one.
This was not the first dead chick she’d seen. Typically, about 5% of all our chicks die before making it to the field. She’s been around plenty of dead chicks and understands that some just won’t make it.
Why so upset about this one?
Because she thought she could save it. She noticed it struggling in the brooder. She gave it special attention making sure it was close to water, feed, and a heat lamp.
She tried to keep it alive.
But she couldn’t.
It was her job to care for these little chicks,
And she felt like she failed this one.
She knows the life cycle of a chicken. She wasn’t upset simply because it died; she knows living things die.
She was upset because it missed out on living life.
Don’t get me wrong. A chicken life is not a glamorous life. But a chicken life on our farm is the best life we can give them, and this one missed out on that life.
It didn’t get to march across the field with the other chicks chasing grasshoppers. It didn’t get to fertilize the field and contribute to the soil and ecosystem like the other chicks would.
To her, it was a chick that didn’t get to fulfill its potential.
And she felt responsible.
We don’t act like living things are not living.
We don’t act like living things won’t die.
We don’t treat living things like they are dollar signs or walking pieces of meat.
We don’t treat our animals like they’re pets.
We treat living things like they have a purpose.
Because they do.
Our job as farmers is to allow them to live that life of purpose.
To make the most of their life.
To make the most of their death.
To allow them to live how they were Created to live.
In spite of her best efforts, this little chick missed out on that life and the greater purpose that could’ve come with it.
But because of her best efforts, thousands of chicks would live. They would live the best life we can give them. They would grow to be healthy chickens and fulfill that greater purpose.
After talking about it for a few minutes, she wiped her tears, nodded her head, put her chin up, and went back in the brooder to care for rest of the chicks.
The heart of a farmer.